I approached the castle with some hesitation. I was mildly fearful of Lord Richard, since seven Christmasess ago, when I was ten and just recovering from my accident, he'd tried to exorcise my great-grandmother and the next day she'd died. Of course, this was merely coincidental (I think), and shouldn't have affected me...but somehow, it has.
So as I and my horse slowly made the climb towards the castle, I reread his letter, which I'd kept in my pocket. This is what it said,
My dear cousin Lukas, son of Lord Martin of the Marshlands (My name just happens to be Henry Lukas Martin the Sixth. I go by my middle name to avoid confusion)
I have a proposition for you. You've always been a smart lad, one with words, so I know you must be reading this letter with curiosity. Your cousin Richard hasn't contacted you in a long time. Well, to be honest, I need you for something.
I want you to visit my castle. A maiden has accidentally been put into an endless slumber. She was supposed to be a different maiden, who would be awakened with the kiss of a prince, but sadly, this is not the case. She is not a maiden, and the prince won't come to kiss and wake her. I was hoping you might be obliged to do it.
I have enclosed 15 gold pieces in this package. It is only one-third of what I plan to pay you if you come and wake her.
Your loving cousin,
Lord Richard Carlton
Before I knew it, I had reached the main gates. I tried to stifle both my unease and my now rising doubts as I surveyed the place.
It was the picture of an abandoned castle from fairytales. The grounds were unkempt, the buildings in disrepair, and in general looked as if no one lived there.
But Richard was, as I was soon made painfully aware, in that fortress.
No one came to greet me, and no one was guarding the large, iron gates. Yet, creaking on their hinges with a screeching of rust, they opened as I approached. Unsettled moreso than before, I glanced around for someone who had opened them, but barely even saw the rustle of a bush or tree, or a shadow or noise.
Did I mention this was all taking place on a sweaty, humid, late August day when there was absolutely not the slightest hint of a breeze? In most circumstances, I would have been spending the day drinking lemonade out in the garden, reading a book.
The castle really appeared like an overgrown berry patch that a little kid would want to go crusading in, but I ignored that fact as I spotted Lord Richard off to the side. He was by himself, in a deep red tunic with a black short sleeved shirt underneath and black hose. His cape was the same color that is commonly associated with darkness, and he wore jewelled rings on his fingers. He's quite a bit older than me...ten years, at least, but he keeps his beard shaved and his raven colored hair long.
I suppose we do actually look somewhat alike. That's what mother always said before he went crazy, at least.
"Ah, my young cousin..." He began as I dismounted from my horse, "I see you're well as ever. Um, most of you, that is." He finished, casting a glance at the evidence of the accident several years ago. He couldn't see my pegleg under the boots I was wearing, but he must have remembered which one it was.
I suppose it is time I explained.
When I was ten years old, I was playing in the forest one day. And, you guessed it, was attacked by wild boars. I would have healed just fine, had it not been for the gangrene which began spreading. So, just as neat as you please, it was amputated and that was the last of it.
Since it isn't necessary to the story for me to explain everything about it, I'll just say that it's on occasion hard to get around with your right foot missing, but mostly, it poses no problem.
I greeted my cousin with similar friendliness, choosing not to acknowledge his comment.
“Well, then, since you're here, just leave your horse to be tended to, and we'll get straight to work.”
I wasn't sure where my horse would go or who would take care of him, seeing as there was no one else but Richard and I, but I decided not to worry about it and followed my demented cousin into the keep.
The corridors were cool and refreshing compared to the outside. I could hear water running somewhere; probably an underground stream.
It was as we rounded a corner and came upon a flight of stone stairs that Richard stopped. I glanced upwards. There was a landing, about twelve steps up, and then they turned out of site. The long, small window chiseled out of the stone provided faint light.
The sound of water running was to my left, and I realized that it was seeping out a crack in the wall. I turned to Richard.
“Is this a spring?”
“Yes. As you may have noticed by now, we descended several stairs as we entered this keep. We've been underground for a while. Since the castle is built into the mountain, it's natural for a few springs to be around. This one conveniently runs through here. Now, the mystery as to why the structure is still sound is one that I may only explain with magic.”
I groaned.
“Now, now, be a good lad and wash your sweaty face off, and we'll go on up and visit her.” He responded.
Finding no other options before me, I did as I was told. After splashing my face with water, we ascended.
Up until then I hadn't really believed in magic at all. But in the next few months, a battle of questions would be waged within me, and the reality of magic would definitely be one of the fiercest wars.
~A.K.~
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