Finishing eating I storm off to the front doors opening them wide. The air outside the castle was crisp, cool, and ancient, the kind of air that almost held memories of times long past within its breeze. I closed the heavy, wooden doors behind me, and they groaned in protest, as if they too held stories I wasn’t quite ready to hear. Stepping down the stone steps, I turned to look at the castle of my father—my home now, it seemed, at least for a while.
Its towering walls loomed before me, dark and imposing. The black stone seemed to swallow the light, leaving the place shrouded in shadow even in the brightness of the day. My eyes followed the walls up to the ancient spires that reached into the sky, a stark contrast against the blue. The castle had a beauty, sure, but it was a beauty marre
