Chapter 11
Buffy woke up the next day feeling refreshed. It took her a moment for her to realize where she was. The teen quickly got dress and strolled down the hall.
After seeing the same painting for the second time, she came to the conclusion that she was lost. She tried to go through many doors that she thought could take her to a staircase but they were locked. It was like going thru a maze with trap doors and hidden openings.
"How am I going to- OW!" Buffy cried as her head made contact with a hanging trap door on the ceiling. It was wooden and was broken in some places. Hanging from the inside of the hole was a chord made of yarn and had a figurine in the shape of a mermaid at the end.
The desperate teen yanked on the chord and got out in the nick of time before a wooden ladder fell out landing on the floor with a thud. This will hopefully get me to the dining room. She thought and started to climb. It was pitch dark as she climb up the ladder. She could make out little ruins on the walls but since the area was in need of a candle, she could not see a single complete picture.
Sadly, the ladder did not take her to the dining room. It led her to the attic which held magical pebbles that gave off light hanging from the ceiling. Those ruins she saw were actually pictures of pixies, sprites, and elves dancing around because they were also on these walls. Jars stood on shelves filled with eyes, pebbles, and other things Buffy did not want to know about. This is not the dining room. Buffy grumbled in her mind. She was in desperate need of some toast.
She wandered over to a trunk that was open and next to a bookcase with jars of sprite guts. It held some books, bottles full of powders that were as diverse as the rainbow. What really interested her was a black and white picture bleached out a little by the sun. Buffy picked it up to inspect it and what she saw startled her.
It was the library she went to. It looked a little bit cleaner and the time was about a decade ago but it was the library. On the back of the picture was the owner's writing. It said My Dream Home. How did someone from here have a picture form there better yet of the library that held the book that brought her into this whole mess?
To satisfy her curiosity, Buffy opened up one of the books. She was lucky. It was the mystery man's journal. It read:
January 28, Year 23 of Age 7
Dear Journal,
I will soon leave this land and go into the real world that created us. I will leave you since the spell makes me only bring the clothes on my back. I have found the perfect place for me to live; a library that is in a peaceful village. It does hold the book but I will learn to resist its calling. I will miss you and leave you halfway full.
Sincerely,
E.R.
This made Buffy more confused. Who could have written this? Who was E. R.? While her mind went to work over this, Rupert poked his head out of the hole.
"There you are. I have been wondering where you were," he commented and pulled himself up. He went over and saw the book in her hand. For some odd reason, he froze and then picked up the book and picture and lowered into the trunk and closed the box.
All of this made Buffy want to ask a certain question. "Rupert, who lived here?" she asked.
Rupert was unresponsive for a little while. It seemed like he trying to decide whenever or not to tell, but he soon did. "It was Ethan's house," he said in a monotone voice and led her to the dining room. After all of that search for the room, Buffy did not touch her food.
