Gaia

Chapter 8 The Crimson Keep: The Bow of the Ancient Knights

The silver-lit mist swirled around them, cool and damp, as Shay and Shiloh followed the ancient black path. It shimmered faintly, veined with what looked like liquid silver beneath their feet, the glowing symbols on its edges casting dancing shadows. The air grew clearer here, losing its cloying floral sweetness, and in its place came the scent of cool stone and something crisp, like mountain air.

Then, through a sudden thinning of the mist, it appeared.

A colossal bridge, seemingly hewn from a single, impossibly white stone, arched across a chasm that disappeared into the vapor below. And lining its entire length, on both sides, stood paladin knights. Their armor, gleaming like fresh snow, was adorned with intricate gold etchings that seemed to catch and amplify the ambient light. Each knight stood perfectly still, a silent, imposing sentinel.

As Sir Damian, who had now caught up to them, began to cross the bridge, the first line of knights moved in unison. With a soft clink of metal, they raised their gauntleted hands to their brows in a crisp salute. The gesture rippled down the lines, a wave of respect flowing before him.

Shay watched, a knot forming in her stomach. Her unease only deepened as they passed the first few knights. As she and Shiloh drew closer, the salutes transformed. One by one, the paladins dropped to one knee, their heads bowed in a profound gesture of reverence. The sheer number of them, stretching back to the castle's entrance, was overwhelming.

Shiloh, however, was oblivious to Shay's anxiety. His eyes were wide with wonder, a breathless "Wow!" escaping his lips. He tugged at Shay's hand, practically bouncing with excitement. "Did you see that, Shay? They are bowing to us! Like we're royalty!"

Shay didn't reply, her gaze fixed on the endless line of kneeling knights. Her heart thudded a frantic rhythm against her ribs. Why were they kneeling? The question echoed Damian's earlier words about the "blood you carry," and a shiver that had nothing to do with the cool mist traced its way down her spine. The welcome felt less like an honor and more like a heavy burden settling on her shoulders.

The bridge seemed to stretch on forever, a tunnel of silent, bowing paladins. Finally, it culminated in a grand archway, framed by towering trellises thick with the same vivid red roses that adorned the path they had left. These roses were monstrously beautiful, their petals a deeper, richer crimson than any Shay had ever seen, almost black in their intensity, and impossibly perfect. They cascaded over the stone, forming a living, thorny frame.

And beyond them, was the castle.

It was a structure born of nightmare and dream, simultaneously menacing and majestic. Its spires, impossibly tall and needle-sharp, pierced the sullen, grey sky, tipped with what appeared to be glowing red crystals. The stone of the castle itself was a deep, charcoal grey, almost black in places, but accented everywhere with streaks of brilliant, almost violent, crimson. Great, gaping arched windows, like shadowed eyes, lined its walls, some appearing to glow with the same internal light as the spires.

At the very heart of the castle's towering facade, two massive, blood-red doors stood, they seemed to pulse with a faint, inner light, reflecting the surrounding roses and the ruby-tipped spires. No ordinary wood or metal, they looked as if they were carved from a solidified essence, both inviting and forbiddingly powerful.

Shiloh, who had been grinning from ear to ear at the kneeling knights, now fell silent. His earlier excitement was replaced by a wide-eyed awe. He clutched Shay's hand tighter, a subtle tremor running through him. "It's really big," he whispered, his voice barely audible, as if afraid to disturb the profound stillness of the place, Shay grabbed his hand and faked a smile of reassurance, "its going to be okay, we will do this together".

Shay felt a chill that had nothing to do with the outside temperature. The air around the castle hummed with an almost palpable energy, a sense of immense power contained within its dark walls. It was grand, undeniably, but there was a stark, almost brutal beauty to it, a beauty that felt dangerous. The vibrant red, so dominant, felt less like a welcoming color and more like a warning, a splash of something primal against the muted grey.

She looked at Sir Damian, whose face remained impassive, his gaze fixed on the massive red doors. He seemed completely at home here, his calm presence a stark contrast to Shay’s rising unease and Shiloh’s wide-eyed wonder. This place, she knew instinctively, was far more than just a castle, she could feel that it was the heart of the realm Orrin guarded, and whatever awaited them within its blood-red walls was tied to the mysterious "blood" Damian spoke of.

A soft, almost imperceptible thump echoed through the stone as the last of the paladins on the bridge knelt. The silence that followed was profound, broken only by the distant murmur of the mist and the beating of Shay's own heart. The red doors before them remained unmoving, yet felt as though they were watching, waiting.