The Source

The attendant turned and nearly ran towards a hallway to the left of the golden doors. The hall was completely tiled in azul blue stone and every three feet was a painting. Each painting was different but all of them captured a single strawberry. The hallway lead to a giant room with and arched ceiling that was at the end of the hall, he turned again, and Troova found herself in another hallway. It was painted black with splatters of neon blue, green, pink, and purple. The floor was lined with black lights that made the white in Troova's dress shine. At the end of this hall, her guide stopped, turned toward the wall and began talking. Confused, Troova moved closer and suddenly she could see the thin man that had painted himself black to blend into the wall. The attendant stopped talking when she approached and the thin, painted man gaped at her, his mouth slightly ajar. Uncomfortable with the attention, Troova looked down and shuffled her feet.
Realizing his rudeness, the thin man straightened and cleared his throat. He looked at the attendant for a long moment then turned toward the wall and lifted a latch on an unseen door. A pale, peach-tinged light flooded the dark hallway as Troova was ushered through the door. While her eyes adjusted, she heard the door closed behind her and hurried steps in her direction.
"Malcolm," the attendant said, "go quickly to the Zodiac room and tell Lord Asa to come here immediately."
"He's in the middle of a hosting Nax, you know I can't interrupt him."
"Then wait until he's finished, then bring him here."
Malcolm, a rotund man with ferret like eyes and a fixed frown, stared at Troova with open mistrust.
"What's going on Nax?"
Nax, disregarding his question said, "When you see Lord Asa tell him...." he walked over to Troova and took her hand. "...tell him The Source has come."

And I heard a whisper...

She had of course, heard many things about Grace Flame Castle, but to see it was to feel its magnificence. It was as though it was built by its history. The sun-bleached stone walls pulsed with victory, boasting at the scars they received from century after century of war. Its' seven towers housed the king's seven sorcerers and an occasional sparkle of magical light would fill up the windows. At the very center of the castle was a giant bronze dome. It was pocked with groupings of holes that made up the sky's constellations. At the top of the dome rose a long spire that dug deep into the sky, its end lost amongst the clouds.
"We must proceed Miss or we will be late."
"Oh! Sorry, sir." Troova blushed and then lengthened her stride to catch up with Purple Face.
As they approached the entrance, Troova gasped in awe. The massive gold-plated doors she walked through were covered in mystic symbols that shimmered with a thousand different colors and whispered in a foreign tongue. Some symbols were larger than others and whispered louder than the symbols surrounding them. Troova touched the door and immediately pulled back. An imprint of her hand burned in blue then faded slowly into the door. Her palm was either ice cold or burning hot, she couldn't decide, but as she looked at it, it glistened white briefly before returning to normal.
"Excuse me, sir? What are the doors saying?"
The attendant stopped and turned to look at her. His eyes were narrowed and his tiny mouth was slightly open.
"You-you heard the doors speak?"
"Yes", Troova said nervously, "is that bad?"
He approached her and leaned over closely. "What did they say?"
"I don't know. I-I couldn't understand their language".
He stared at her for a brief moment and put his hand on her shoulder.
"What is your name Miss?"
"Troova, sir. Troova Hollifax".
A shocked look waved over his pudgy face. He stood quickly and looked down at her with urgency.
"Well then. Come with me quickly, Miss Hollifax", he took a deep breath, "She'll want to know you've come."