David pulled up in front of the mansion. It loomed over him like ship's prow, casting him in shadow. It looked old. Very old. In fact, it looked as if it hadn't been touched in years. Though the structure remained stable, the façade was crumbling and the gardens were wildly overgrown.
As David exited his car and approached the front gate, he thought he heard some rustling in the tangle of overgrown plants. Apparently, some of the local wildlife had decided to make this place their home.
The front door was large and impressive-looking. Its wood was intricately carved, though the specific designs were hard to make out. David pushed the door in with difficulty, as the hinges were rusted and the wood was overgrown with climbing plants and weeds.
The foyer was just as large as the outside of the building lead him to believe. The lofty ceiling was buttressed by several large statues. Several suits of medieval armor decorated the fringes of the massive room and beautiful tapestries graced the walls. David felt as if he had just stepped into a place which time hadn't touched for hundreds of years. The place looked like an ancient European castle brought to life. The illusion was slightly ruined, however, by the thick layer of dust obscuring everything.
David continued to explore the mansion, hoping to find whatever great-grandpa Ben had hinted at in his will.
He came across a gigantic dining room that looked as if it could seat at least a hundred people. The curtains were drawn back from the enormous windows, letting the light play across the tables. As David entered, he stirred up some of the dust. The yellow light caught every mote of it, illuminating them until it seemed like David was in a maelstrom of molten gold.
As the disturbed dust settled, David noticed an irregularity in the smooth sheen of the table next to him. Several irregularities, actually. As he drew closer to them, his heart leaped in his chest. They were words written in the dust!
My dear David, the words read, Knowing you, the dining room will be the first room you seek out. Therefore our little game will begin from here. David smiled slightly, remembering the games he used to play with great-grandpa Ben. They seemed so long ago. He continued reading. You will find what you seek in the third room on the right on the third floor. David raised an eyebrow. He thought this very strange, as his great-grandfather had delighted in intricate puzzles and elaborate riddles. This, however, was very straightforward.
Feeling a vague sense of disappointment at not being able to play one final game with Ben, David located the room specified by the writing.
It was locked.
Feeling a grin creep onto his lips, David enjoyed the familiar thrill of excitement that had always preceded the challenges great-grandpa Ben threw at him.
Examining the door, David noticed a piece of paper pierced by a dagger, shadowed by the doorframe. He removed it and wasted no time in reading the message written on it.
Surely you didn't think it would be that easy? David had no doubt that his grandfather wrote these. He could easily hear his great-grandfather speaking the words aloud in his head. Let's have a little chase, you and I.
The map to the Key is sundered to four,
You must read all of them to unlock the Door
None of the parts is like its brothers
If you can read one, you can't read the others
To find the First Key, the first of the parts
You must find the room where every Day starts
The room where every day starts. He must mean the bedroom. Ben's challenges always began ridiculously easily to throw David off and lull him into a false sense of security.
Turning over the note, David found what he assumed was the map the riddle mentioned. It was in the form of another riddle.
It was complete gibberish.
David began to understand the nature of the challenge he was up against. Each key was in fact a word or phrase that would give him a clue as to how decode part of the map.
Pocketing the dagger, which had a heavy pommel carved in the shape of a rose, David set out in search of the master bedroom.
True to Ben's old formula, the bedroom wasn't hard to find. Like the rest of the house, it was smothered with dust which made it hard to see the details of the room. However, David could see that this room was once very grand. The ceiling was covered in a giant mural of the night sky with, as far as David could tell, authentic reproductions of all the constellations. The large east facing window ensured that the sleeper would wake up at the crack of dawn every day. Last, but not least, the bed was an enormous four-poster with a king-sized mattress and maroon colored curtains that could be drawn for privacy.
The note containing the Key awaited David on the mattress, its crisp white color at odds with the dull grey of the all-encompassing dust.
What a large bed! Fit for a King!
This King had his share of tossing and turning
Unfortunately, his reign was brought to an end
Most tragically, by the hand of his Friend
To find the next Key, you must not yield
Look for the Rose in the heart of the Shield
So he was looking for a king? A king who had been deposed by his friend. Tragically. That implied that the change in power had been violent, possibly fatal. So, a famous king that had been assassinated by his friend. The first instance that came to mind was Julius Caesar. The more David thought about it, the more he became convinced of it. Great-grandpa Ben had been an admirer of Shakespeare's works, which had popularized the historical assassination. But what did that mean?
David pondered it for a while, idly fiddling with the dagger in his pocket. Struck by a sudden thought, he pulled it out and began examining it. Caesar had been assassinated by stabbing. Maybe the dagger was significant. However, its only distinguishing characteristics were the heavy rose shaped pommel and vine design etched into the blade and the leather wrapped around the grip.
When the answer finally came to him, he laughed out loud. It was so simple. The first key was in Caesar cipher. Caesar had developed this simple code to encrypt military missives containing sensitive information. Every letter was moved three places along in the alphabetic order, so to decode it; one simply had to move every letter three places back.
Excited, David began to decode the map. After a few minutes, though, he stopped, frustrated by one simple fact: the map was still unintelligible. He must have the wrong cipher. No, it couldn't be, it fit together too well.
The simplest answer is not always the truest. His great-grandfather's voice resonated in his mind. He used to say that at times like this, when the excitable boy had become frustrated with the lack of easy answers in their games.
He was right, of course. He couldn't jump to conclusions. He had to review what he actually knew.
He was in the middle of a wild goose chase set up by his great-grandfather before his death to find some sort of secret he wanted to share with him. That meant that these clues would be aimed specifically at him, possibly requiring him to utilize knowledge that Ben had shared only with him. Like what? A technique? A certain skill? He had no idea.
Unbidden, his mind went back to when he and Ben used to play their games. The thrill of the chase, the frustration of obstacles and the flush of victory. Ben had been so committed to giving his great-grandson a challenge that he created his own style of encryption that he shared only with-
That was it!
Great-grandpa Ben had developed his own code that only he and David had known about! That must be the answer! It was based on the Vigenère cipher, requiring a key word or phrase to decode the message.
On a hunch, David began to decode the first two lines of the map using the keyword "Caesar". He grinned in satisfaction when the cipher began to become clear. It didn't make sense yet, not without context, but that would be rectified when he found the other keywords.
Speaking of which, where was the next one?
To find the next Key, you must not yield
Look for the Rose in the heart of the Shield
Rose? Shield? Once again, David was stumped.
The first clue was historical; maybe the next one was, too. The War of the Roses, maybe? The long and bloody succession war between the families of Lancaster and York in 15th century England. Maybe the shield referred to the coat of arms of one of the sides. They were roses in shields. White roses for the Yorks and red ones for the Lancasters. David tried the words "war", "Lancaster", "York" and many variations thereof, but without success.
After some time of silent contemplation, David glanced out the window and was surprised by how dark it had become. He probably wouldn't have time to get back home at a decent hour; he might as well sleep here. He didn't bring anything with him, but he could make do.
Clearing the enormous from as much dust as he could, David laid down and instantly fell into a deep sleep; and for the first time in days, he wasn't disturbed by any nightmares.
True to his prediction, David was awoken at the crack of dawn by rays of sunlight lancing in through his window. Groaning, he pulled himself upright, momentarily confused as to where he was. In a moment, though, it all came back to him; the mansion, the puzzle. Glancing around the room, David's eye was caught by a glint on the ceiling. Looking up, he started; the constellations on the ceiling were sparkling! A ray of sunlight lanced into the room, searing his eyes. Furiously blinking back tears, David tried to clear his vision. Looking back up at the stars above him, he realized they were only painted. No glowing or sparkling. It must have been a trick of the light or the vestiges of a dream. He rubbed his eyes, yawning, dreading what the day would bring. He didn't feel up to solving anything more complex than a cup of coffee. Easing himself to his feet, David set out in search of breakfast.
Later, in the mansion's expansive kitchen, David felt much more awake, having consumed some oatmeal he had found in a cupboard. Raw, unfortunately, since he didn't have milk, water or any way to boil it.
Sticking his hands in his pockets, David realized he still had the dagger with him. He slid it into his belt, for fear of cutting a hole in his pockets. Besides, it looked better like that. David was in no hurry to get back to yesterday's frustrating riddle, so he took his time, enjoying the scenery.
Passing through the majestic foyer once more, David slowed to get a closer look at the suits of armor. Tarnished by the long years of neglect, they exuded an air of ancient pride and melancholy loneliness. Examining them closely, David saw that each of the ten knights who had owned these suits of armor had each had different crests emblazoned on their shields. An oak tree, a seven-armed candelabrum, a sun and many others.
David's heart skipped a beat. The shield belonging to the central piece had a large rose etched into its center. The Rose in the heart of the Shield!
Excitedly, David examined the shield, trying to find some sort of clue as where to go next. He finally found a tiny piece of paper wedged into a crevice between the shield and the gauntlet grasping it.
The Second Key is right in front of your nose
Though you may think it is, it is not the Rose
Now you should go and find the Third
To find it you must think like a Bird
Where do you think you would want to sleep?
In a dark place, probably, where small things creep
David had to find the second keyword before going anywhere else. Fortunately, this one was fairly simple. In front of his nose, but not "rose". It had to be "shield". Sure enough, the next two lines were decoded without difficulty.
Returning the growing map to his pocket, David scrutinized the rest of the riddle. The wording made him shiver with apprehension. He hated dark places, especially dark places where one could find small things creeping. There were two places that fit the criteria, in David's opinion: the basement and the attic. Of the two, the attic made more sense. Where else would a bird roost? Determined not to let his uneasiness get the better of him, David set out toward the attic.
It was even worse than he imagined. It was pitch black with a stifling sense of claustrophobia and what smelled like enough dust to cover a small country. Pinching his nose to prevent himself from sneezing, David felt along the wall, looking for a light switch. There wasn't one. Fighting down a growing sense of panic, David began to search for a window he could open; more for the reassurance of light than the light itself. Finally, blessedly, his fingers brushed against threadbare fabric. Curtains. Throwing them open, David breathed a heavy sigh of relief at the rays of early-morning sun penetrating the dark room.
Turning around to reassess the attic, David realized that the hypothetical country the dust would cover was a little larger than he had originally assumed. It was everywhere, covering every nook and cranny. It made him feel like sneezing just by looking at it. His hand back in place on his nose, David began to search the stuffy attic for anything bird-related.
The dust made it hard, but eventually he found a battered birdcage. Examining the inside of the cage, he realized the cage still had an occupant. Horrified, David dropped the cage as if burned and took a step back. The thing in the cage didn't move. Carefully, he approached and took a closer look at the bird. It was a fake. Feeling slightly foolish, he noticed that time had taken its toll on the bird and that it was hardly recognizable as one at all. In fact, it was so old that the seams were coming apart and the metal insides were visible. At one point it must have been a beautiful thing; its bright feathers and, if the metal innards were anything to judge by, its song would have been quite the treat. The note wasn't hard to spot; clean white against the dirty gray.
Look at this bird, this lowly thing
I once saw a Bird fit for a King
Its vibrant plumage shone in the pyre
As I saw it reborn, rising from Fire
The Phoenix. It had to be. The supernatural bird, known primarily from Greek mythology, also appeared in many other cultures around the world: the Ancient Egyptian bennu, the Russian firebird, the Persian simurgh, and so on. It was known for its ability to regenerate its body after attaining a great age by bursting into flames and rising, reborn, from their own ashes. It was always a symbol of rebirth or immortality.
David tried decoding the next two lines of the map using the keyword "phoenix". It worked. The text became legible. Only two lines remained gibberish. It was time to find the last key. David read the rest of the note.
The Fourth Key, perhaps, is the hardest to find
You must be sharp and keen of mind
It resides in the Library; that much I will say
But you need not fear it will be stolen away
For, you see, the Key and the Library are One
Find the Key and you'll see you have won
This was it. The final line of defense. Anyone other than him wouldn't be able to figure this out. This was far from reassuring. The first time Ben had done this, using his own cipher only they had known, it had taken him forever to figure it out, and that was for the first key. This was the ultimate challenge for him, crafted by someone who was intimately familiar with his thought processes. Well, at least he knew where to look. That did little to lessen his apprehension, though.
The library was a sight to behold. It seemed even bigger that the foyer. It was gargantuan. The late afternoon sun illuminated a quote etched into the vast ceiling. "Treasure the stories, for they are our strength, our lives and our salvation." The words were positioned in a way that they were visible from every point in the library.
Were they the keyword? David experimented with several versions of the quote, but none worked. It wouldn't be that easy.
The sheer size of the library was only eclipsed by David's dismay. He was supposed to find a single word in this monster of a room? And in a library, no less!
Not wanting to waste any time, David began to forage through the shelves. The layout seemed to be designed to confuse and lead astray. Gaps between the shelves often doubled back on themselves and set out in unexpected directions, completely ruining the overall symmetry of the library and getting a certain young man hopelessly lost. David wasn't sure he could find the exit even if he tried. The giant writing on the ceiling provided him with some idea as to where he was, but he could never know whether a corridor would stay true to its course, deviate to a completely different direction or even lead to a dead end.
The entire place was giving David a queer feeling; a nagging sensation that he was missing something.
Not knowing exactly what he was looking for, David began to read the titles of the books as he walked past. Some were familiar, but most were not. He even saw some fairly recent publications. Frowning, he removed one of the books he recognized. It had come out barely a few months ago, yet it was in this dusty, old mansion that looked as if no one had visited for years. Opening the tome and reading a few lines at random, David confirmed that it was, in fact, the same book. Why would an abandoned old mansion have a book in it that didn't exist until a recently?
Unless…it wasn't abandoned.
Hastily returning the book to the shelf as quietly as he could, David tried to quell the feeling of panic rising in his throat. Was that a bookshelf groaning under its load or being jostled by a passing person? Was that the flutter of a pigeon's wings outside or a flurry of footsteps?
Was that a shadowy figure creeping toward him?
Losing all composure, David bolted down the corridor back the way he had come. Heart racing, David pounded down the corridor, looking for a way out.
Left turn. Right turn. Switchback. Left again. David didn't think about where he was going. He only tried to get away from whatever was behind him, if there was something at all. He didn't care. He just wanted to get out of this interminable maze of books.
After what felt like hours, David collapsed, exhausted. He hadn't found the way out. The labyrinthine library had him trapped. Breathing heavily, he tried to calm his racing heart. The light from outside had almost disappeared. Checking his watch, David was mildly surprised to find that he had been on this wild goose chase for hours; it was already evening.
Looking around him, he saw he had come to the wall of the library. Tall ladders leaned against the walls at regular intervals, allowing access to the tomes stored in the walls. A small detached part of David's mind noted that, strangely, the thick layers of dust he had encountered throughout the house were conspicuously absent from the shelves.
He had to find his way out of here. But… maybe he should rest a bit. Yes just for a moment before…
He was still in the library. The sense of urgency was gone. He felt so calm. No, he had to get out, didn't he? But why would he want to do that? He was home.
He rose above the shelves, looking down at his domain. Yes, this was where he belonged. He loved this place. Every story was precious, stretching on into infinity like this place.
The shelves which seemed so disorganized a moment ago now made perfect sense. Every row was exactly where it needed to be in order to... what? Why did the shelves have to be like this? There was a reason, he was sure of it.
He rose higher and higher. He could now see the tops of the shelves. They were in a pattern, they…
David rose abruptly, only to collide headfirst with the shelf above him. With a hand held against his smarting cranium, he tried to ignore the pain.
He knew the answer.
It all made sense. The maze-like quality of the library, the strange way corridors seemed to contradict all logic. The Key and the Library are One.
Rushing to the nearest ladder, David began to climb furiously. The shelves sank down as the vast library unfolded before him. He climbed higher, seeking a good vantage point.
Finally, he stopped and turned away from the wall. The shelves stretched on and on, gleaming in the morning sunlight. David gaped in astonishment. He was right! The shelves twisted and turned to form one enormous word.
Create.
That was it; the last keyword. It was one with the library, so it couldn't be stolen away. Flushed with victory and with a broad grin on his face, David realized he still couldn't find his way out of the library. Examining the ceiling, he judged where the entrance would be and tried to find a path that would lead there. Fortunately, there was a blessedly straight path along the wall that led in that direction. Descending the ladder, he set off toward the exit.
Outside the library, David let out a sigh, relieved, but exhilarated. He did it! He would have made Ben proud. He was about to begin decoding the final part of the map when his stomach let out an angry growl. David paused; he hadn't realized how long ago his last meal was. Before decoding the puzzle, he set off to the kitchens once more.
After a hearty but rather bland breakfast, David compiled the disparate parts of the map to the key.
Well done, well done, you are commended
But now, however, our romp is ended
You wanted a chase, and a chase you got,
Although, I'm afraid it was all for naught
You saw the Key at the very beginning
In plain sight and ripe for the winning
Turn the Rose thrice in the way of the Clock
Then you will see the way to unlock
The key was there the whole time? Despite his considerable annoyance, David felt a grudging respect for Ben. This kind of thing was exactly his style; making him dance around, thinking he was doing something important, when, in fact, it was all a wild goose chase.
He had to find the key now. It had a rose on it. Was it the shield? No, that wasn't at the beginning. What else had a rose on it?
The dagger!
Excitedly, he removed the blade from his pocket with fumbling fingers. Turn the Rose thrice in the way of the Clock. Grasping the heavy rose shaped pommel firmly, David twisted it clockwise three times. To his astonishment, the unscrewed pommel fell away completely, revealing that the pommel was, in fact, the head of an ornate key hidden inside the blade. The craftsmanship was superb. The burnished bronze was carved with a vine motif along the shaft, mirroring the blade it had emerged from. The head was equally impressive; detailed to a point where even a master locksmith would be hard pressed to duplicate it.
Hurrying back to the locked room he had found two days ago, David turned the key in the lock with a satisfying click. The room beyond the door was something of a disappointment. It was completely bare except for a large mahogany wardrobe standing opposite the door. Attached to the front of the wardrobe was one final note covered in Ben's scrawling handwriting.
My dearest David…