Lord of Eternal Night by Ben Alderson

3

Iwoke to noise. A shuffling of feet mixed with the hushed murmurs of low talking. My entire body ached having slept on the floor beyond the door — where he had left me. But I was rid of all grogginess in a single moment.

Sunlight streamed through the large window in the room, slicing spears of light that exposed bouts of dust that danced once unveiled. After being left last night I had not moved from my squat behind the door. How long had it been? Enough for night to pass into day.

The room had been in the cloaks of night and I feared to explore it. Mother always said that what was hidden in the dark was best left there. So I stayed still, listening for the return of the creature, until I had fallen asleep whilst on guard.

In daylight I saw that there was nothing amiss in this chamber room. All but the impossible noise that sounded beyond the locked door. There were others here, in this castle. It should have been empty as all my teachings had informed me. I was not alone. Which went against everything I was led to believe.

The hairs on my neck stood on end as I listened intently, calming my breathing in hopes to catch some word or string of a sentence.

I pressed a hand against the polished wood of the door, covering the multitude of scratch marks beneath. Vibrations tickled across my skin. Their movement was close and their murmured chattering told me that they too were aware of my presence.

On my knees I reached my hand up for the brass knob, knowing that it would still be locked even before my fingers fully grasped around its cold, rusted handle. I had not woken to the click of the key.

“Shit,” I hissed, pushing myself to standing and dusting the dirt from my trousers. I had hoped the old lock had grown weak over the years.

It had not.

I breathed heavily, examining the marks across the door. Scars of a battle between another Claiming and a locked door. I had not been the only one locked away in this room. The thought sent a stabbing discomfort through my already aching body.

“Hello?” I called out, not caring for subtly. I waited for a response only to find the noise had quietened. “I can hear you! Please let me out…” I forced my voice to sound meek and pathetic. A plea that would tug at the guilt of someone listening. But it fell on dead ears.

I slammed my palm on the door, shaking dust from the frame above. Bang. Bang. Bang. I hit upon it until my wrist ached more than it had when the creature had dragged me into this room.

Fire willed within me, urging to be released. I could burn this door down if I wanted. Devour this entire room until the ancient stones that constructed it broke beneath my heat.

But I couldn’t. I mustn’t. Not yet.

Whomever filled the rooms with candlelight beyond did not want to help. Perhaps they worked for the creature? I thought that seemed both possible and impossible. I called out for them until my throat itched and I worried my annoyance would break through my pleas. If they had heard me, they did not want to reveal themselves.

Giving up, I moved to examine the chamber.

Dust layered every surface of the dark furniture that filled the modest room. The four-poster bed was far greater than anything I had slept in before. Sheer curtains draped between the four posts, held back by thin ties that revealed deep burgundy bedding.

Had he done this? The question echoed within me. Did he prepare this chamber for every Claiming?

I sat myself down on the end of the bed, a cloud of dust exploding around me. From my seat I could look out of the bay window before me and almost feel the fresh air this room so desperately required.

I wasted no time in unlatching the rusted, black handle of the window and pushing hard to throw it open. The glass almost shattered as the force swung the window wide, slamming it into the wall beyond.

Morning air, fresh and cool, trickled violently into the room.

It swirled around me, encasing me in its familiar touch, finally clearing my nose of the stale scent of the room. The air was brisk. It spurred a shiver to course across my arms and neck.

Then I smelt myself. An odour strong enough to turn my stomach. No amount of fresh air would help that. As soon as I could leave, I needed to wash.

There was a brass tub that took up space across a tiled corner of the chamber. I could only imagine how it would have been filled with warm water for the patron of this castle long before the curse. Now it sat, wasted space, with cobwebs taking home among the curved body of metal.

Like the dusty bed and dull furniture, the tub was only more proof that this room had been untouched.

So who was beyond the room now?

I leaned out of the window, taking in the view. Perhaps I would spot someone outside? Mist clung to the overgrown garden I looked over. Being on the ground level made me see little of Darkmourn that sat nestled in the valley. Would my family be thinking of me? Biting nails in hopes that I succeeded?

I could have reached for the scrying bowl and revealed my first failure to them. Instead I busied my mind, looking at the line of broken white stone statues. Limbs and heads littered the ground beneath those that were left standing. The carpet of mist clung to the ground, dancing and twisting along the blades of overgrown grasses and wild hedges. I reached a hand for the ghostly smoke which licked up the cold slabs of the castle’s walls, clambering towards me as if it had a mind of its own. Perhaps it did.

Entranced in the moving mist, I was locked in position. Unable to pull my hand away as it grabbed for me. A hand split from the mist, fingers closing around mine.

Panic gripped at my heart. Nails of anxiety stabbed into my flesh as the hand materialised and hardened into skin made of smoke.

Its hold on me was as strong and real as the creature’s had been.

Instinct warmed my blood. Just as I had the night before, I called upon my magic. At the tips of my fingers I commanded the air that lingered around them. My most familiar, wilful element. The blast of it exploded from my skin, dissipating the hand of mist in a moment until I was free once again.

I stumbled back, flicking my hand and sending a bout of wind to close the window as I put distance between it.

The glass vibrated within the frame, threatening to shatter from the impact as it closed.

“What in the Goddess’s name…” My breathing was uncontrollable as I pressed myself against a bedpost. Watching, unblinking, half expecting a ghostly face to appear behind the glass with a taunting smile.

But nothing happened.

I pressed a hand to my forehead and chuckled, the other held over my frantic heart. “Focus, you fool.”

There was a small, quiet knock at the door. It spurred a small scream as my body and soul was already on edge of panicking from the phantom I had just seen. I snapped my head towards the sound, expecting ghostly fingers to slip beneath the crack in the door.

“Are you okay?” a quiet voice called out from the corridor. My heart slammed in my ears, each beat deafening. Slowly I took a step towards the door, trying not to make a sound. “If you have hurt yourself you should tell me. I can help.”

There was something songful about the voice. It was light and gentle. Full of youth.

“I am … fine.”

I tiptoed towards the locked door, leaving footprints in the dust covered floor.

“Others have tried escaping through the window. But your fate within the mist is far worse than what you may experience here.”

I lowered myself to the floor, my cheek so close to the ground that I felt the coldness of it. Looking beneath the crack in the door, I expected to see feet.

But the floor beyond was empty.

My breath hitched. Closing an eye, I looked again, straining to see who it was that spoke. “I was not trying to escape.”

I expected no response knowing that the space beyond was empty.

But the small voice replied, chilling my blood to ice. “Good. Are you hungry?”

“Starved,” I said, pushing myself to standing. My stomach ached at the thought of food. Perhaps that was what caused the vision beyond the window. And this strange interaction.

“Then you should be pleased to know that we have prepared you a feast. Eat as much as you want. You can take it back to your chamber if you wish. But heed my warning: you must return to your room before the sun goes down. For that is when he will wake again. Marius will not be pleased to know we have let you out.”

Marius. The name rolled off her tongue. And with it brought a vision of the lord of moonlight.

“He… he locked the door. I can’t leave.”

Something knocked against my foot. I looked down to the key that rested beside it.

“Promise me you will return before nightfall?”

The key was in my hand in seconds, turning in the sister lock on my side of the room. I held my breath as I threw my door open to expose the speaker.

But the corridor was empty.

* * *

The castle was a maze.Each turn, each flight of stairs, I found myself lost. No corner was the same. Walls peeled with paper — exposing broken boards beneath. Carpets were worn. Stained sheets covered up hulking shapes that I could only imagine to be unwanted furniture.

And I found no one. No matter how frantically I searched.

As I lost myself in my exploration, I conjured an image of the person I’d spoken to. A young girl, it must have been. She would have to be here somewhere. Her and the rest of the people that made the noise I woke to.

Yet there was no sign of any life among the sunlit rooms. I clung onto the key as if it was the physical reminder I needed to prove I was not going mad. Leaving an imprint of it in my palm as my fist tensed with each undiscovered moment.

It was not long before I caught the scent of the promised feast. Yet another reminder that I was, in fact, not going mad. I picked up my pace, sniffing the air as I followed the scent to its origin. Perhaps the others waited within?

The room in which my nose guided me towards had its door half open. Whereas the other doors I passed were all closed, this one was a clear invitation for me to enter.

Pushing the door, the creak made me cringe as the door’s weight struggled against the old hinges. I found myself swearing beneath my breath. My profanities soon dwindled into a breathless sigh as I beheld the vision before me.

Laid out across a long, set table were plates full of food. Delights of all varieties. Steam still curled from sliced meats surrounded by a bed of vegetables. What looked to be buns glazed with sticky honey, and other sweets, broke up the savoury options laid out across it. For such a large table, there were only two seats. One at the side closest to me, the other at the far end.

I found myself hesitating with my hand above the empty, waiting plate before me. Mother’s scorning voice filled my head, urging me to wait for the others to pick food first, followed by the sting of a slap on the back of my hand.

But I was alone, and she was far beyond the curse boundaries of the castle. With a smirk I snatched the plate and wasted no time in piling heaps of food onto it, and impatient fistfuls into my mouth. I did not care for the mess I made, nor the questions of how this food came to be, as I lost myself to the lust of hunger.

My mouth exploded in flavour, which was soon washed down by a glass of red liquid that I swept up without much of a thought.

The entire gulp burned as it laced down my throat. Wine. I had drunk it before during rituals and sabbats with the coven. But this taste was… different. As though I drank wealth rather than the scraps of wine Mother could obtain from the town’s small market.

I drained the glass until I stared at its crystal bottom. Then I found another and finished that too.

My mind spun but on I ate until my belly ached, pleading me to rest.

Candles burned in holders all along the length of the table. But their purpose was wasted as daylight lit the room from the four, elaborate windows across the far wall. The glass was stained with blue, red and yellow. Its reflection created a rainbow of colour across the room.

Unlike everywhere else I had been thus far, this room was well kept. Sideboards and shelving were kept clean from dust and the table still shone as though it had not long been polished.

I could not imagine the creature doing this. Which only added to my belief that others did in fact dwell within the castle.

Did they too hide from the creature? Coming out during the day when they knew they would be safe from the night dweller?

So many questions — answers of which I would get when I next came into contact with someone.

I stayed in the room, warmed by the food in my belly, until the light began to dim beyond the windows. It may have been time itself that was impossible to grasp, or the aid of the wine that let it slip away from me. But what the wine did not dull was the warning the girl had given me. As the colour changed from bright blues to dark navy I knew it was time to return.

Before I left to find my way back to my room, I grabbed a handful of cheese and bread. It may be a long night.

I should have left sooner as I did not take getting lost on my way back to the chamber into consideration. The longer I took, the more the cold fear returned at the base of my skull, which only intensified by the slicing feeling of eyes following me through the darkening castle.

The sensation of that gaze prickled the hairs down the back of my neck and made me walk faster. But the wine made my legs clumsy and my feet awkward.

The castle was darkening quickly. Quicker than I thought possible. I threw myself down the stairs and back towards the main doors of the castle, turning left down the corridor that led to my chamber. The very same hallway I had been dragged down upon my arrival. Returning to this room was easier than expected, but studying ones surroundings was one of mothers many lessons. And it was now being put to good use.

By the time I entered the room and turned to close the door behind me, I was certain I saw a figure standing at the other end of the corridor.

I did not wait long to be sure of it.

My hands shook as I pulled the key from my pocket, locking the door with awkward fingers. I left the key in the lock to ensure no one could undo it from the other side.

Knowing the power was in my hands, I calmed, pressing a hand against my heart in hopes it would still.

“Get it together…” I hissed, almost laughing at the fear that had found comfort in me. “If he saw me now he would think me pathetic.”

Good. The thought passed through my mind. That is how you want him to see you.

The room was dark. Void of light which made the room seem endless as the corners were lost to the shadows. It was a long while since I was fearful of the dark — a luxury I was not blessed to have. Sitting on the edge of the bed, I remembered the scorning Mother gave me as a child who struggled to sleep without candlelight.

Do not fear the shadows, for they do not fear you. But what Mother seemed to forget was it was not the dark that frightened me as a child. It was the creature that was warned to command the shadows.

And now I was in his domain.