The first thing Morpheus noticed after stepping into the castles entranceway was that the flickiering light did not penetrate to this level of the building, it was pitch dark. The long nights of winter had bred good night vision into the Illians, so after a few moments Morpheus eyes adjusted to the low light. He looked around.
Nothing.
From the outside he could see that the flickering light was coming from one of the higher levels of the castle. What ever was making that light might just be the only thing in the ruins, Morpheus thought to himself, as he looked around for a stairwell.
He eventually found what passed for stairs, negotiated the holes and the slippery rocks and made his way to the upper level. He caught sight of the light towards the top of the stairs. It was coming from a room at the end of the corridor.
As Morpheus stood at the top of the stairs staring towards the light, he felt the first stirrings of fear starting deep in his belly. Again, the thought of turning back and leaving the castle alone never entered his mind. The pull of the light had taken him but one part of his mind was starting to quiver with worry.
Cautiously he inched up the corridor, taking care to make no noise in the process.
There was no door to the room with the light, so he made his way along the adjoining wall as quietly as he could, so as to give no clue to its inhabitants that he was there. This also meant he was unable to get any clues as to who might be in there.
Surprise was his major advantage, he decided as he finally reached the door. Pausing for a moment to listen but only hearing silence and feeling the tug at his soul harder than ever, Morpheus leaped into the entranceway and waved his club in front of him while screaming at the top of his lungs. Wildly looking about for the enemy he saw
.
Nothing.
Well not quite nothing, for sitting in the corner of the room was lying a sword, gleaming like a molten river of iron.
This was what had been calling to him. Walking up to the sword, Morpheus picked it up without hesitation and brandished it aloft. Suddenly he screamed out in pain as he could feels jolts of energy transfer itself from the sword into his body, to every part of his body but as quickly as they came they faded and the sword turned dull.
Smiling, Morpheus took a deep breath, he felt good, better than he could ever remember feeling during the Age of Ice. Stronger as well, he felt he could wrestle every bear in Bear Cove and not even get a scratch.
He would send word back to Garduk that he was fine, he thought as he was exiting the building. As for the sword, he would keep that to himself.
Not once did Morpheus ever wonder why the sword was just lying in an empty room of an abandoned castle, or who it had belonged to. It belonged to him now.