Chapter 59 :Painting
In the afternoon, William meets the other students in the building during lunch. The only person missing is the loner from the East, who still refuses to leave his room.
The moment William crossed the threshold, he noticed something peculiar. A plate loaded with well-cooked meat, fresh bread, and a bowl of hot soup was already waiting for him at an empty spot.
He looked around. There was no cook, no servant, and no one else in sight.
“How did the food get here?” William asked.
Caleb, already sitting nearby, shrugged. “Nobody knows.”
William raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean, nobody knows?”
“I mean nobody knows,” Caleb said, taking another bite. “I’ve tried figuring it out.”
“You have?”
“Of course. I spent an entire day sitting right here, waiting for someone to bring the food.”
“And?”
“I saw nothing,” Caleb said, pausing dramatically. “The food just appears. One moment the table is empty, and the next, there’s a meal sitting on it. Either it magically materializes out of nowhere, or someone puts it down the moment I blinked.”
William glanced toward the dark kitchen entryway. “So you never figured out which one it is?”
“Nope.” Caleb sounded almost proud of his failure.
William picked up a piece of bread and took a bite. It was surprisingly good—the meat was tender, the soup warm and flavorful, and the bread crusty and fresh. He couldn't decide whether to credit a master chef or pure sorcery.
As they ate, William chatted with the others and learned that students from almost every corner of the Empire—the West, East, South, and Central regions—had already settled in.
“The North hasn’t arrived yet?” William asked.
“Nope,” Caleb replied. “They’ll probably get here today or tomorrow.”
William nodded to himself. ‘That explains why Mark had told them to be ready for orientation the day after tomorrow.’
William was about to take another spoonful of soup when Edward chimed in, speaking with the measured air of a seasoned veteran.
“It makes sense for them to be the last,” Edward said, slurping his food. “The North is cold all year round. The roads are always frozen, and continuous snowstorms combined with a lack of vegetation make traveling conditions extremely difficult.”
Caleb paused mid-bite and stared at him, his eyes lighting up. “You’ve been to the North?” he asked excitedly.
Edward suddenly choked on his soup, coughing for a second before setting his bowl down on the table. “No, no,” he admitted, clearing his throat. “But my father went when he was young. He’d always tell me stories about it whenever I complained about the cold during winter.”
After finishing lunch, Edward speaks up with a grin. “Why don't we explore the building?”
William hesitates. “Wouldn't that be dangerous? And what about the rest of the students?”
“People have been living here for almost a week and nothing has happened to them,” Edward argues, turning his head to look at Martha and Arya chatting with a few other students across the room. “Besides, they already look busy enough.”
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Caleb quietly observes the interaction, for once staying silent until Edward turns to him.
“What do you say, Caleb?” Edward asks.
Caleb blinks, caught off guard by the question, but a sudden gleam enters his eyes. “Yeah, that's a great idea! Why don't you lead the way?”
Edward turns around with puffing confidence, completely failing to notice the mischievous smirk spreading across Caleb's face.
As Edward struts down the corridor and takes a sharp right turn, William decides to follow. But the moment William steps into the hallway, a voice calls out from right behind him.
“William? Weren't you behind me?”
William spins around, finding Edward standing behind him with a thoroughly bewildered expression.
“I was,” William says, frowning. “You just took that turn up ahead—how did you end up behind me?”
“I think this place is built like a maze,” Edward replies, scratching his head. “I took another turn and before I knew it, I was back here.”
“Wait, where did you just come from?” William asks, a prickle of unease rising in his chest.
“What do you mean? I just came from right...” Edward's words trail off as cold horror creeps over his face.
Where the open corridor had just been, a solid stone wall greets them.
“But... how?” Edward stammers, his voice dropping an octave. “I literally just walked through there! There was a path, I swear—it had more rooms, and there had been a painting of a man holding a paintbrush painting a building in the hallway!”
Before Edward can panic further, a burst of uncontrollable laughter cuts through the quiet hallway.
Both boys look over to see Caleb doubled over, clutching his stomach with tears streaming down his face as he laughs hysterically.
Edward bristles with indignance. “What's so funny, Caleb?!”
Caleb gasps for air, trying to get his laughter under control. “Do you... do you really think you're the first person who thought about exploring this place? Let me tell you, half the people here tried, and every single one of them ended up completely lost like you! And the very first person to fall for it was me!”
“But why is this happening?” Edward asks in sheer exasperation.
“Who knows?” Caleb shrugs. “Maybe that's just how the building was constructed, or maybe they just don't want us wandering around where we shouldn't be.”
“Is it really safe, though?” William asks as a deep curiosity sparks inside him.
“Well, it should be,” Caleb replies after thinking for a moment. “Nothing bad has happened to anyone yet, and I'm sure the escorts would have warned us if there was actual danger.”
William nods slowly. “Let me check it out too.”
Carefully, William turns and walks toward the corner. Reaching the turn, he lets out a quiet breath and glances around the edge, expecting the worst—only to see a perfectly normal hallway lined with guest rooms and a simple red carpet.
‘It doesn't look strange at all... though I guess it would be more surprising if it did.’
He walks silently down the corridor and takes another sharp turn. Immediately, the atmosphere shifts.
This new hallway feels pristine yet strangely abandoned. Unlike the previous corridor, this one is bathed in the soft, flickering glow of wall candles. The carpet here is far cleaner, woven with rich golden borders, and every single room is sealed shut behind a heavy black door.
‘They never mentioned it getting this spooky...Every sensible part of me tells me to turn around.’
William turns his head and spots the artwork Edward had mentioned: a painting of a man with his back turned, brushing strokes onto a canvas depicting a large building. The artwork is surprisingly simple, rendered entirely in monochrome without a drop of color.
“Does this have some kind of hidden meaning? Edward said wealthy people love collecting things for emotional value rather than practical use…”
As William scrutinizes the canvas, a sudden realization strikes him. ‘Wait... why does this building in the painting look so familiar?’
Before he can piece it together, a sharp knocking sound echoes through the hallway.
William freezes, a cold chill creeping up his spine. ‘Where did that come from...? Was it behind one of those doors?’
He stares down the quiet corridor at the sealed black doors, his heart beating faster.
“Should I check them out?” he whispers to himself. “No... that's way too dangerous. I should just leave.”
Deciding not to press his luck, William turns on his heel and hurriedly walks out of the hallway.
A few moments after his footsteps fade into the distance, a subtle shift occurs in the corridor. Inside the frame, the painted figure slowly raises his brush, resuming his work on the canvas as a faint, dry voice whispers from the painting:
“A wise choice.”