Chapter 3: The Missing Host

The haunting chime of the grand clock echoed through the ballroom, signaling that time was slipping away. The atmosphere had shifted. What began as a glamorous, festive gathering had now become something darker, charged with suspense and uncertainty. Holly could feel the weight of the mystery pressing on her chest, each passing second making it more difficult to breathe.

Victor Noel, the shadowy billionaire who had invited them all here, was nowhere to be found. Just like a magical disappearance, like the electricity that had gone out just a few minutes ago. His unexpected disappearance left an emptiness in the room, but that was not all. It left a question floating in the air: Where did he go and why?

The guests had dispersed, still murmuring in confusion and disbelief. Holly, Clara, and Nick were among the few who remained near the portrait. The star that never shines still hovered in the corner of Holly's mind, but the disappearance of Victor demanded their immediate attention.

"Where did he go?" Nick muttered, pacing the floor. "That's not like him. He was just here, talking to us like he knew what was going on."

We should look for him," Holly said, her voice quivering slightly. She didn't like admitting it, but she felt a sense of foreboding rising up her spine. What if he's in danger? What if they were all part of something much larger than just a Christmas party?

Clara shook her head, her lips compressed into a thin line. "It's no use. He's not here. We have to focus on what we can control." Her eyes flicked to the locked box at the center of the room. The one with the snowflake emblem.

The box had just materialized there, set upon a small pedestal that hadn't been there moments before the lights went out. Nobody had seen it come in, and nobody had noticed that Victor had taken it. It just sat there like an object from another age; mystically old, full of secrets, waiting for someone to unlock that.

"That's what we need to focus on," Clara said again, more insistently this time. "The box. It's the only thing that's real right now."

Nick glanced at Holly. "She's right. We're not going to find Victor if we don't have a clue about this." He leaned forward, eyeing the box. "We need to solve the riddle. We need to figure out what it means."

Holly nodded, though doubt gnawed at her. Something about this entire situation didn't sit well with her. She couldn't shake the feeling that they were being watched. That someone—or something—was pulling the strings, guiding them toward a destiny they weren't ready for.

"What do we do first?" Holly asked, turning to the others.

Clara was already exploring the box with her fingers, tracing the patterns on the emblem carved into its surface: a snowflake. "This symbol. it's important," she muttered. "I have seen this one before. It is an ancient family crest but one I have never linked to the Noel family name."

"Family crest?" Holly repeated, feeling intrigued. "What do you mean?"

Clara straightened, meeting Holly’s gaze with a look of mild surprise. “The Noel family is known for their wealth and influence, but they also have ties to ancient traditions. The snowflake emblem—if I’m not mistaken—was part of an old bloodline, a legacy that dates back centuries.”

Nick folded his arms. "But the Noel family's been pretty reclusive. They've kept a low profile. Are you saying there's something more to them than just rich people throwing extravagant parties?

Clara's eyes gleamed with something sharp. "Much more," she said, her voice low. "Victor is not the first Noel to host these kinds of gatherings. His ancestors were heavily involved in something—something that tied them to an even older prophecy.

Holly’s mind reeled. A prophecy. She couldn’t shake the feeling that they were standing on the precipice of something vast and mysterious, a secret so big that even Victor Noel himself had been keeping his distance.

There has to be a way to open this box," Nick said, leaning closer. He looked at the lock on the front, taking in the detail. "No keyhole, no combination, no buttons. Just this engraving.

Holly looked at the engraving again. The snowflake was beautiful but seemed ordinary at first glance. It wasn't until she really focused that she noticed the subtle lines running through it, almost like a pattern waiting to be uncovered.

She leaned in, running her fingers along the box's surface, tracing the edges of the engraving. Her heart skipped a beat when she realized something: the snowflake seemed to shift under her touch, as though reacting to her movements.

"I think I see something," Holly said, her voice a whisper. The engraving was no longer static. The pattern seemed to change, the lines shifting to reveal hidden details.

What is it?" Nick asked, leaning in as well.

Holly pressed gently against the snowflake, and to her surprise, the box clicked open, revealing a hidden compartment. Inside was a small, folded note, written in elegant handwriting.

Clara wasted no time grabbing the note from Holly's hand, unfolding it with trembling fingers. She read aloud:

The first clue lies in the star that never shines. Look to the past to find what's been hidden."

"Look to the past?" Holly repeated, trying to make sense of the cryptic message. Was it referring to something in the mansion's history? Something from Victor's family's past?

Nick sighed in frustration. "This is a dead end. We need to find something. Anything to make sense of this.

I have an idea," Holly said suddenly, her mind racing. "Victor said earlier that the mansion holds a secret. What if the clue is tied to its history? Maybe there is something in the mansion that can give us more answers."

Nick and Clara exchanged a glance, clearly thinking the same way.

"Then it's settled," Clara said, determination in her voice. "We start looking through the mansion's history. The walls here must hold more than just expensive paintings."

With renewed focus, the three of them made their way to the nearby library, a large room lined with bookshelves that stretched from floor to ceiling. A grand fireplace sat in the center, crackling with warmth despite the cold air that had settled outside.

As Holly and her husband came in, they immediately noticed, standing out as incongruent with the much more modern interior design, this collection of extremely old, book-bound leather items. These dusty, ancient leather books had such an air about them.

"There's something here," Holly whispered, approaching the shelf. She pulled one of the weighty volumes from the shelf, blowing off some of the dust, revealing on the cover a family crest similar to the emblem of the snowflake on the box.

"Victor's family history," Clara said softly, her eyes growing wide. "This might be what we need.

As Holly opened the book, the pages crackled with age. They were filled with faded text, written in a language that seemed distant, almost forgotten. But at the center of the book, there was one page that caught her eye—a page that seemed newer than the rest. It was a letter, written in English.

The letter started with the words: "To my beloved family, may our legacy continue even in our darkest hours…"

Holly kept reading, knowing she was going to find a piece of Victor's family history that could lead them closer to the truth.