Unfurling Ancients: Jack Grangot's Unbelievable Quest.

I've been at this house for a long time now. Six years, to be exact, since I first came here. And six years is also how long it took me to realize something.

I'm not sure what it was that made me figure this out. Maybe it was the fact that I was still alive. Maybe it was just my luck. Maybe it was the many, many times I almost died. But whatever it was, I finally realized it.

The Grangot House isn't haunted.

It's inhabited.

The Grangots don't want me dead. They haven't killed me yet, and they've given me a lot of chances to die. I've been buried under collapsing buildings, in tumbling carts that went over cliff sides, in burning timbers that collapsed on top of me, and every time I escaped, I expected to die. And for the past six years, I've wondered why.

It's because I'm a guest. And the Grangots are my hosts.

I'm their entertainment. They feed off of the fear and the adrenaline I feel when I'm in danger, and they get as much pleasure as I do from feeling them close by. The woman at the end of the hall is the only one I've seen, but she's the one who makes her presence known the most. Her face is always hidden behind a veil, but I can hear her voice as clearly as ever. It's beautiful; a soft, comforting tone with the faintest hint of the Southern US.

She's always telling me what to do, what not to do, where to go, where not to go. And she's always predicting my death, or letting me know when I've narrowly escaped it. She's just as much of an adrenaline junkie as I am, though she doesn't seem to make any effort to show it.

I miss my family. I miss my friends. I miss being able to go outside without having to worry about the walls caving in on me. But I've never been happier in my entire life than I have been here. It's like living in a fantasy novel, and I get to be the hero. I have no doubt that if I asked, the Grangots would allow me to leave, but I can't imagine doing it.

I'm only nineteen, but I feel like I've lived a thousand lifetimes. I won't go back to the real world until I'm ready. I'm not sure if I'll ever be ready.

I miss my family. I miss my friends. I miss being able to go outside without having to worry about the walls caving in on me. But I've never been happier in my entire life than I have been here. It's like living in a fantasy novel, and I get to be the hero. I have no doubt that if I asked, the Grangots would allow me to leave, but I can't imagine doing it.

I'm only nineteen, but I feel like I've lived a thousand lifetimes. I won't go back to the real world until I'm ready. I'm not sure if I'll ever be ready.

"Jack."

It's the woman's voice, and my heart skips a beat. I've learned to recognize it after all this time. She's somewhere close, and she wants me to look in her direction.

"Jack, Jack, Jack."

There's something in her tone that makes it sound like she's exasperated, but it's also oddly affectionate.

"Jack, I've been looking for you for a long time. I'm so glad I found you."

I look up, and there she is, standing in front of the window. It's hard to see her face, but I know the voice well enough to tell that she's smiling. I can see the faintest glint of a pair of eyes in her veil, but that's all.

"What do you want, Grangot?" I ask. It's a question I've asked thousands of times, but I never tire of hearing her answer.

"I brought you a present."

She reaches into her dress and pulls out a long bundle. It's wrapped in a blanket, and with a gentle motion, she unwrapped it.

The light is dim, but I can see perfectly well. And the Grangots gift was revealed to me.

It's a sword. A long sword. As long as my arm, and heavier than I could carry. It's a beautiful, shining blade, and it looks sharp enough to slice through metal like a knife through butter.

But that's not the best part. The best part was the handle. It's carved out of a white, marble-like stone, and it's shaped like two hands clasped together. And in those hands is a gemstone, a deep blue diamond that sparkles with inner light.

"This is yours, Jack," the Grangot says. "It will help you find your way. Now go, and may you protect us from the darkness."

I take the sword from her, and she vanishes. I turn around, and there's a door, one that wasn't there before. It's a simple wooden door, but it's old and weathered and very, very heavy. I put my shoulder against it, and it creaks open, revealing a rugged path that leads down into a valley.

I know where I have to go. I've known since the beginning. In a few hours, or days, or weeks, I'll find what I'm looking for. And when I do, the Grangots will finally be safe.

And so will I.