Chandeliers glinted like raindrops dripping from the ceiling while luxurious rugs bearing intricate designs cushioned my feet. It was overwhelming, but my mind surged ahead. Everywhere I looked, thriving plants, many bearing blue and peach roses, shuddered when I passed.
As my senses soaked in the opulence, there was an automatic shift, from marvelling at the beauty around me to scanning for a touch of the modern world. My eyes began to search for any sign of technology. A phone, a computer, any gleam of a screen that could connect me to the outside world.
But as I turned my attention from the artefacts of the past to the corners and shadows of the present, I found nothing. No soft glow of a charging port, no buzz of electricity signifying the presence of a hidden device. It was as if this place existed in a bubble, untouched by the digital advancements that defined my everyday life.
However, my mind refused to view this as a dead end. Instead, it presented a challenge, a puzzle to solve. With no visible means of communication and no easy way to send a message home, I wondered how I could adapt. What resources did I have in a place that seemed to reject the very essence of my modern existence?
What kind of people choose to live so disconnected from the rest of the world? More importantly, how could I use this environment to my advantage? My mind raced as I considered my options. Maybe, just maybe, the key wasn’t in finding a hidden phone or computer, perhaps it lay in understanding the rules of this place and discovering the cracks within its foundation.
The search for technology had transformed into something deeper, a quest not just for means of escape, but for comprehension. It became a game of chess, played not with pieces on a board but with the very fabric of this world. One lesson my real dad taught me about chess when I was little was that every opponent, no matter how strong they seem, has a weakness. I just had to findtheirs.
***
The delicious aroma of food filled the room, its elaborate spread creating a striking contrast to the tense atmosphere at the table, which was set against a backdrop of a lush green garden. My hunger, initially forgotten amidst the evening’s uncertainties, made itself known with a betraying growl from my stomach.
Cillian guided me toward a cushioned chair at the end of the table. I sat down and comfortably sank into the seat. At the opposite end of the table, Fionn and Torin were already sat eating from a platter of fruit and drinking ruby wine from large shimmering glasses.
A servant stood quietly by the wall, dressed in a slate-grey tunic adorned with faint silver patterns that shimmered as he moved, resembling constellations stitched into fabric. His presence was unobtrusive, yet his posture felt slightly off, elegant, yes, but also otherworldly as he stared.
Torin gave a dismissive gesture towards the door. He turned and left the room without a word, the door closing behind him with a soft click.
Fionn looked at me with an expression that seemed laden with scrutiny and unspoken judgments. Feeling uncomfortable with the seating arrangements and exhausted from the day's events, I leaned tiredly on the table.
Fionn’s gaze shifted to my elbows resting on the table, a small act of defiance against the formalities of our gathering. His look sharpened, not with anger, but with an authoritative chill that seemed to demand respect or submission.
I remembered my father admonishing me for placing my elbows on the table during Sunday dinner, saying it was rude. Yet he never taught me how to cope when the table felt like the only thing holding me together. I sat up, trying to straighten myself as much as my exhausted body would allow.
"Eat, Tilly," Cillian's voice broke through the tension, offering a semblance of warmth in the cold standoff.
"You must be hungry. There will be time to rest later."
The food looked divine, but so did poison, once.
“No, thank you.” I replied.
His eyes stared directly at mine, he was trying to intimidate me. “You must eat,” Fionn commanded, his voice leaving no room for negotiation. “You must eat,” Fionn commanded, his voice leaving no room for negotiation.
I was hungry, but who knew if the food was drugged? I didn't know anything about Fionn and his brothers or what they were capable of. I wasn’t just refusing dinner; I was refusing to submit.
“I said no,” I stated, this time more firmly.
“There’s no need to test me,” Fionn retorted, his tone calm yet assertive. He didn’t raise his voice; the tension in the room did that for him. He dragged a hand through his dark hair, pushing it back into place with a controlled, irritated sweep, as if smoothing himself was the only thing stopping him from snapping.
“Well, excuse me for wondering if the food is poisoned, given how welcoming you’ve been,” I shot back, my words laced with sarcasm.
Fionn’s gaze remained steady, a clear indication that he was not easily swayed or challenged.
“The food on Earth is the poison you’ve been consuming all your life,” he said, dismissing my concerns. “The additives, the chemicals, it’s unbelievable what you subject yourselves to. What’s in front of you now is real, untouched by the corruption of your world.”
His words offered no reassurance; they were a critique of everything I found familiar. Cillian stayed silent, observing as the tension grew.
I looked down at the plate. The food was beautifully arranged, but that wasn’t the point. Fionn was not just feeding me; he was testing me. This wasn’t about nourishment; it was about control. To him, my hesitation wasn’t a sign of caution; it was a weakness.
Cillian's quiet observation from the sidelines spoke volumes. His silence conveyed understanding rather than indifference, a recognition of the diplomacy and power dynamics in which we were all unwilling participants. He acted as a bridge between Fionn's unyielding authority and my own scepticism, serving as a mediator in a conflict that was as much about mutual respect as it was about asserting dominance.
Torin laughed and helped himself to a generous serving of the fruit pastries. I grimaced as he stuffed two into his mouth like a starving animal.
"If these treats are poisoned, then I suppose I'll be the first to find out. But logically, what would be the point of bringing you here to poison you?"
