Come dawn, the fog dissipated with the first rays of sunlight. Alaric, Jason and his friends, Clara and Ava set off on the reinforced carriage pulled by Cinder. Sol and Luna ran on either side of the mare, keeping an eye on their surroundings.

  “What can you tell me about the castle?” Alaric asked, gripping the side of the carriage tightly as it hit every bump on the terrain. It was nauseating.

  “It’s pretty old,” Lochlan said with a scowl. “I wouldn’t trust anything that isn’t a solid wall not to crumble the moment you touch it.”

  Worse than Castle Lorne then. Alaric pursed his lips. “Were there any places you didn’t explore?”

  “We didn’t go down into the basement – the stairs were… well, they didn’t exist anymore. And we wouldn’t get up to the third floor. There was a door, but it was locked. Bloody thing was sturdier than the entire structure, I can tell you that much.” He folded his arms and scrunched up his forehead in annoyance.

  He couldn’t help but find that quite suspicious. A single locked door in an entire, dilapidated castle? It had to be locked to keep something important out of sight. Perhaps a mana core. Hope kindled in his heart as his gaze focused on the castle they were rapidly approaching.

  With Cinder pulling the carriage, it didn’t take too long for them to arrive. They hopped down onto the wet earth a few dozen steps away from the entrance.

  “Right, be ready for skeletons.” Lochlan said with a smirk. “I suggest sending these two in first.” He tilted his head towards Sol and Luna. Both wolves wagged their tails with what looked like excitement.

  Readying their weapons, they approached the castle entrance. The once sturdy reinforced wooden gate had fallen off its hinges, leaving the entrance wide open. Unlike in Castle Lorne, there was no courtyard here. The entrance led straight up half a dozen stairs, and into the large, dilapidated structure.

  The once lavishly decorated hallways were now covered in a thick layer of white dust. The air was heavy and dry. Each step they took caused small clouds of dust to rise for a few short moments.

  Alaric narrowed his eyes. “Isn’t it a bit… quiet?” His voice echoed in the hall despite keeping it low.

  Lochlan shrugged. “Maybe the skeletons stayed dead.”

  I doubt that. Alaric turned his gaze downwards. There were tracks on the layer of white dust. More than one thing had passed through here. He gestured at the others to wait, then approached middle of the hallway and crouched by the tracks.

  There was small prints that he couldn’t quite make sense of. Was that how a skeleton’s tracks would look like? Then what are the bigger ones? He let out a quiet sigh as he stood back up and dusted off his clothes. He couldn’t make any sense of these.

  “Let’s be wary. I don’t think we’re alone here,” he said, keeping his voice just above a whisper. Unsheathing his flaming blade, he slowly moved forward.

  They left a trail of footprints behind them. The eerie quiet only shattered when one of them stepped on a shard of glass, or a piece of broken furniture hidden under the thick layer of dust. The long corridor ended at a large set of wooden doors. They were clearly once intricately crafted, but not much was left of the craftsmanship anymore. Time had eroded it all.

  Jason made a face before pushing the left wing of the door open. It let out a deafening creak as it swung open, and its bottom edge scraped against the floor before finally coming to halt, half open.

  “I feel like everything is one touch away from disintegrating,” the young man grumbled.

  The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

  “Yeah.” Alaric glanced at everyone else before walking past them and passing through the door.

  He found himself in a large, oval chamber. Remnants of a red carpet peeked through the layer of white dust, leading from the entrance to a raised platform on the opposite end. Half a dozen steps led up to the platform, where a rather cold and unceremonious stone seat stood.

  A throne? Alaric glanced around with narrowed eyes. A lord’s throne, probably. It’s owner didn’t seem to be here anymore. He couldn’t help but wonder how old this place really was.

  “You know,” Ava scrunched up her forehead. “It looked way more impressive from atop the cliff. Are you sure there’s something here? It looks abandoned to me.”

  Alaric pointed at the tracks on the layer of dust. “I’m not quite so sure. These aren’t shoeprints, and they certainly don’t belong to the wolves.” He glanced at Lochlan. “Where are the stairs?”

  “This way.”

  They went back to the corridor, then followed Lochlan until he stopped in front of steps leading upwards. There was a rather large hole in the ground next to the steps.

  Alaric approached the edge of the hole and peered down. It was quite dark down there, but he thought he spotted a momentary glimmer. Is something moving down there? He held his breath and listened. The faint sound of their clothes rustling, and the others’ breathing was all he could hear. His own heartbeat masked whatever was down there.

  “There’s no way we’re going down there.” Lochlan shrugged. “Sorry Alaric. We can go up, if you want to.” He pointed at the stairs.

  He released the breath he was holding. “Yeah. It’s fine. Whatever’s down there should probably stay down there anyways,” he absentmindedly said with a sigh, and headed up.

  “Wait, what do you mean?” Clara looked down, then quickly stepped away from the hole. “Is there something down there?”

  “No way.” Ava shook her head. “Even if there was, it’d be long dead. This place must have been inaccessible for bloody ages.”

  But something moved down there. He didn’t voice his thoughts. He was sure of it, the glimmer he saw was that same sickly green colour they saw glint atop the castle. Biting his lower lip, he hurried up the stairs with both wolves by his side. The others followed only a couple of steps behind, arguing about what could and couldn’t survive for centuries down there.

  When he reached the final steps, wood creaked softly beneath him.

  Wait. He glanced down, at the stone stairs he was standing on. His gaze turned forward, at the hardwood floors. That wasn’t me-

  His thought got interrupted as a blade lunged forward from around the corner, missing him by a wide margin.

  The skeleton holding the blade stumbled past him, tumbling down the stairs.

  “What the hell?” Jason shouted, smashing his halberd into its skull.

  The cry of a crow echoed in the hallway. Alaric’s gaze snapped towards the sound. The bird turned the corner and flew upwards through the half-broken stairwell.

  A crow? Quickly climbed the remaining few steps. The hardwood floors creaked under his weight. They were dry and old. It was impossible to be silent here. No white dust here. He scowled. Why?

  “Alaric?” Clara called out. The corridor echoed to her voice. “Are you ok?”

  “Yeah.”

  The corridor stretched to his left and to his right. It was old and dusty, and the walls and remaining furniture heavily damaged. He couldn’t even bring himself to trust the wooden floorboards beneath his feet. It felt like they could give in at any moment, and a fall to the floor below could very well be lethal.

  “Let’s go up.” He waited for the others to catch up, then marched up the stone stairs. At least they felt sturdy and secure.

  Luna and Sol dashed ahead this time, clearly not willing to allow a second ambush. Alaric followed them, blade in hand.

  “Well that was a surprise. You do realise you won’t be able to smash any skulls with that.” Jason let out a sigh, then pointed at the flaming sword.

  “You guys can finish them off.” He glanced at the halberd the young man was holding. They were the few things they had been able to loot the first time they came to this place. Well cared for weapons that had been kept in pristine condition. Unlike the Bloodrose Witch, whoever owned this castle clearly did the maintenance on these weapons.

  A low, guttural growl came from above. Luna? He hastened his steps, then stopped as soon as he spotted the two wolves. They had just reached the highest floor of the castle. The stairs led to a wide corridor, which ended at a large, reinforced wooden door. The wolves stood at the top of the stairs, their backs low, and gazes focused on the two dozen or so skeletons standing between them and the door.

  So here they were. He tightened his grip on the handle of his blade.

  Jason, Lochlan, Avery, and Reuban stepped forward, between Alaric and the skeletons. Their halberds pointed at the skeletons, they slowly stepped forward.

  The sound of a crow’s cry echoed. Alaric’s gaze snapped upwards, towards the wooden beams on the vaulted ceiling. There it was – the crow from before. It was sitting on one of the larger beams, watching them from above.

  He clenched his fist.

  You’re not a normal bird.