Anglo Rose

In the deep night sky, a moon like an icy disk cast cold waves of light upon the dark, lifeless earth. Several blue-tinged stars near the moon blinked curiously, gazing down at the “giant serpent” sprawled across the land: a river known to the native humans as the Swell River.

   The river's origins were likely traced back to 500 BC, when a group of burly, long-skulled, fair-skinned men with blond hair and blue eyes carved it out. Or perhaps it was forged in 43 AD, when the Romans seized this land as a province, driving a band of Celts to dig day and night with whips, clubs, and daggers.

   Regardless, whether the earliest Celts, Romans, Angles, Saxons, and Jutes, or the Britons who ultimately survived independently on this land, none would ever have believed the strange event unfolding at midnight tonight.

   In the tranquil, deep night sky, a vast swirling mass of threatening clouds appeared silently, accompanied by a bottomless fissure. Immediately afterward, a mysterious object plummeted from the rift, rapidly descending toward the Swell River below under Earth's gravity...

   Isabelle, her head leaning against the left window, suddenly jolted awake from a prolonged stupor. Sitting bolt upright, her eyes wide, she stared fixedly at the scene beyond the car's windshield.

Something felt terribly wrong. She hurriedly glanced out the left window again, muttering, “Damn it, where the hell does this go?”

   Just then, an icy chill crept up her legs. Looking, she gasped, “Damn it, why is there water in my car?”

Isabelle hurriedly led the way, realizing she was in extreme danger. Her used Ford SUV was suspended over the icy surface of a freezing river.

   Had she not led the way immediately, this rugged SUV might have offered her a sliver of survival. But now, it was already too late.

The seemingly calm yet bone-chillingly cold waters of the Swell River, concealing turbulent currents beneath, swiftly flooded the SUV's cabin. Watching the SUV sink inch by inch, Isabelle had no choice but to give up everything and leap into the water.

   When she hit the opposite bank, she surfaced and scrambled onto land. The Swell River, having swallowed her SUV whole, now bubbled up in triumphant little bubbles, as if taunting her: “Hey, girl, stop it. Why not just accept reality?”

   Soaked to the bone, Isabelle sat alone on the bank, staring blankly at the river's surface. “Damn tornado! Goddamn it, why didn't anyone warn me this was a ‘Finger of God’ tornado?”

“Thank God I have a life. Oh, I almost forgot—I'm going to call Mom.”

   “Damn it, where's my phone?” Isabelle searched every pocket on her body but could not find it.

   “It must be in the car. Should I dive back in to make it or find a payphone?”

   With that thought, she looked to look at the riverside scenery under the night sky. Everything here felt eerily still. Beyond the immense forest lay endless wilderness, with faint traces of cultivated fields visible far ahead.

Isabelle stood up and emerged from the riverside woods and walked onto a dirt road, scanning her surroundings. By now, she had fully recovered from the earlier terror and began to think seriously: "Where is the one? Could I have been swept by a tornado near the Rio Grande, where Texas meets Mexico?"

She crouched down again, feeling the surface beneath her feet—it didn't feel like concrete pavement. She pondered further: “The Rio Grande is narrower than this river, and the road beneath me couldn't possibly be dirt.”

“Even a rural road should be based.”

“What the hell is happening?”

   “Fine, wherever I am, I'll figure out a gas station convenience store and get a hot coffee. Damn it, this river water is freezing cold!”

Isabelle searched every pocket again, finding only a few pennies, a multi-tool outdoor folding knife with a tiger-striped blade, and a diving watch with a compass on her wrist.

   Glancing at the time on her watch and studying a distant field to her left, she devised a makeshift plan: “It's 2:13 a.m. Based on the moon's position and the road's direction, I think I will head northeast.”

   After walking nearly two miles, everything about this place grew increasingly baffling. First, not a single car had passed along this dirt road—barely a highway—during her entire trek. Second, in the pitch-black night, she hadn't spotted a single neon sign for a gas station, convenience store, or motel.

   At that moment, within Nottingham Castle—towering like a mountain peak and standing steadfast along the banks of the River Swell—the head butler, Arthur Field, directed several uniformed servants bustling about with urgent efficiency.

   Arthur frowned, covering his mouth with a checkered handkerchief as he ordered, “You lot need to go faster. Throw everything this woman touched onto the cart.”

One of the new servants hurriedly replied, "Mr. Field, this woman also handled some of the lord's belongings. Must we haul all the Lord's possessions outside the castle to burn them, too?"

Arthur nodded. “Yes. Within Nottingham Castle, no man's life or any object's value outweighs the Lord's life.”

Soon, the servants loaded all the household items and utensils destined for burning onto the cart. As two servants climbed aboard, the coachman cracked his whip, driving the cart swiftly through the castle's rear gate and into the wilderness beyond.

Arthur watched the receding cart and the gatekeeper slowly closing the rear gate before finally exhaling. Putting away his handkerchief, he instructed the remaining servants, "Before you rest, I must tell you this: If within the next two weeks any of you notice someone with a high fever, extreme fatigue, headaches, or back pain, report it to me immediately."

As the servants gradually departed, only the night watchman remained in the castle courtyard. Arthur gave him a few more instructions before intending to return to his room for a brief rest.

   Just then, the gatekeeper guarding the castle's main entrance came building up to him. After bowing to Arthur, he stood respectfully at his side and said, “Sir Field, there is a bizarre woman outside the gate who wishes to seek lodging for the night in the lord's castle.”

Arthur glanced at him and asked, “A mysterious woman? From which direction did she come? How did she arrive?”

   The gatekeeper replied softly, “She walked in from the west, from Musk.”

“On foot? Did you see clearly if she was alone or with others?”

“I saw clearly she was restricted. Nonetheless, this woman is soaked through with water and dressed in very strange clothes.”

   Arthur, hands behind his back, inquired further, “Oh...? Well, did she say who she was or why she came to Nottingham Castle?”

The gatekeeper pondered for a few seconds before answering, “She said she did not know she was here either. She also expressed that her... carriage fell into the river, and she nearly drowned.”

Just minutes earlier, when Isabelle Walton arrived outside Nottingham Castle, she tilted her head back to gaze at the ancient fortress—its silent walls, centuries-old structure, and solid stone construction. Shaking her head in disbelief, she let out a series of exclamations: “Wow, this is totally incredible!”

   Then, the sight of this castle reminded her of others she had been a trouble before. She pondered, “Good heavens, did a tornado blow me to New York? Is this... Bolt Castle in Thousand Islands Lake, New York? But it seems somewhat similar to Hammond Castle in Massachusetts...”

   As she pondered, a bitterly cold wind from the Swell River sent a shiver through her. Then, a sharp sting in her nasal passages made her open her mouth and let out a tiny sneeze.

Isabelle immediately realized this might be the first sign of an impending cold. Though her clothes were now soaked through by the Swell River's icy waters, she instinctively pulled her hooded sweatshirt