The Chronicles of the Black Crystal. Vol: 1: Andrew River
Chapter 6: The Phantom Voice

Not too soon after Master Jim left, Ms. Doris came in with my supper. She brought some soup to cheer up my spirit. After my small meal, I decided to close my eyes and try to get some sleep.

“Andrew River wake up! A voice stated through the dense fog that surrounded me.

In a blink of an eye, the fog rushed back to where it belonged. And a sunrise took the place of the mist. I noticed I was on the dirt street with the huts as before.

The voice continued,” Annndreeew!” I realized the voice came from the hut next to me, on my right-hand side.

I sprinted toward the little hut, opened the wooden slate of a door, and an empty room appeared.

“Andrew! Andrew River...” The disembodied voice came from my right. Instantly, I turned as quick as I could to see who spoke to me. However, I found no person, only painting that hung on the wall. The painting had a picture of a black mesmerizing crystal. The crystal had the appearance of the diamond, while it sparkled in the painting.

“Andrew! Andrew...!” The voice was protruding out of the walls themselves. The voice had been even louder than before. I had to put my hands over my ears. Too quiet the noise.

" Hello, where are you. I am having trouble seeing you.” I said out of fear.

The voice commanded,” Andrew, run, do not let anyone find you. They will be coming for you. Run, hide!”

The room was disappearing into thin air.

“Wait, who is coming for me, who should I hide from?” I questioned in a panicked tone.

Before the voice couldn’t mention anything else, I heard a different voice than before. This voice came from the world beyond the moment. I woke up to find Ms. Doris walking toward my bed table. She was holding a silver tray in her hands.

“Master River, wake up, I brought you some porridge.” Ms. Doris said in a motherly tone. She put the silver tray, that contained my breakfast, onto my bed table.

“I am frightfully sorry Ms. Doris; I seem to be not hungry for breakfast.”

“You have to eat something; you are still recovering from your fall last night. Please eat your breakfast, I cannot waste it," she replied.

” Very well.” I ate the bowl completely dry. It would have seemed I was hungrier than I thought I was. She took the tray and left the room. I sat on the edge of my bed until Ms. Doris left. As she closed the door shut, I peered over to the satchel. It still laid where Master Jim placed it the previous night. I proceeded to push myself off my bed, clutched my night robe, and walked over to this mysterious bag. I was still a little bit weak from the events that occurred the day prior.

“What kind of bag are you?” I asked with no reply.

I started to reach over to the satchel; I stopped myself right before the tips of my fingers touched it. I thought about if I should touch it at all, remembering what had happened before. Did I want to go through that agony again? Nonetheless, I could not stand here all day, contemplating if I should touch it. I decided that I would, what is life without a little risk? I seized the bag. In a blink of an eye, I was in front of the painting from my past dream.

“Good Morning Master Andrew, we were looking all around for you. How are you feeling young chap?” Master Jim had been walking towards me, each of his steps echoed throughout the wooden floor.

I glanced to my side; the satchel slung across my shoulder. Many questions past through in my mind. The important one was how I got here in the first place. What should I do? Should I ask Master Jim for guidance? Most likely he would not have known what was going on in the first place. He would have thought I was a lune. I decided the best path for me was to play it casually.

“Good Morning, Master Hensworth. I was taking a stroll around your outstanding mansion.”

" I am to assume you are feeling much better than?”

“Yes, indeed I am... Master Jim, I am curious, what is the importance of this painting?” I asked. Sᴇaʀ*ᴄh the (F)indNƟvᴇl.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

" Ah, this my boy is the painting of a lost crystal that my father invented. He called it the Black Crystal. He is an ingenious man. He could make anything out of nothing.” He excitedly told me.

" Out of interest, has anyone found his Black Crystal yet?”

“No, no one has ever found it?”

" Not to be too bold, but what is the purpose of the Black Crystal?”

" No, you are not too bold. If the crystal gets into the right hands, it will help humanity with protection.”

“Protection from what?”

“Some say a great evil; others say a monster.”

“And if it gets into the wrong hands?”

" Everything that we know will vanish. Like the dew on the grass in the morning hours. Hopefully, wrongdoers will not recover it. “At that moment, Master Jim studied me curiously and asked,” Why do you find significance in this painting?”

" It is intriguing.”

“Very so.”

“Master Jim?”

“Yes, Master Andrew.”

“How did you encounter these relics in the room you showed me yesterday?”

“They appeared on my doorstep. As you did.”

I peered in his eyes.

He continued, “You do not believe me? I do admit it does sound a little far-fetched. Nevertheless, it is the truth.”

“No, I believe you," I concluded as we started to observe the painting once again.

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