The stagnate moat surrounded the castle. The drawbridge was down. The wood worn, and in need of repair, did not look strong enough for a dog to cross safely. The chains for raising and lowering the drawbridge were rusted stiff. The walls hadn’t only collapsed in spots; it was riddled with missing blocks throughout. Crumbled towers leaned in places like steps. Clouds of mosquitos hovered above the surface of placid water; some dragonflies perched on reeds, others zipped back and forth.
On the ground, just to the right of the lowered bridge, rising from of the dirt was a blue rose with a bright green stem, and leaves. Mykal was tempted to reach for it. The tip of the rose suddenly blackened. The darkness spread down the pedals as if plagued. The breeze whisked away the charred ash as the en
