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The lord and his steward neared the castle grounds. Their feet crunched the dead leaves blown by hollow winds. The iron gates thundered as they swung open under the weight of years of rust. As old as the mossed path before them. Flowers, primarily blue, invaded both the ground and the air with their colors and even moreso colorful scents. The now-bare walls loomed with pikes where banners had once hung.

“I reckon Nashdome was once a military quarter.” Kaniel wondered aloud.

“Not just,” Gora said, removing his hand from the door. “Thirty years ago, it was the military center of the north. The area thrived despite the constant battles. Now, only the battles remain.”

“What happened to the previous lord they had sent from the capital?” Kaniel asked as he moved forward, looking around.

It was clear that someone had poured their heart into the garden long ago. But now, that love was buried under the bushes of thorny brambles as the smell of wood rot dragged from the dark archways. Neglect. A few bushes bore signs of pruning, the cuts so uneven whoever tended the garden had given up halfway through, overwhelmed by the sheer scale.

“He made a contract with a demon to improve his health,” Gora said, hands clasped loosely behind the back. “Didn’t work out.”

The hedges lining the path had grown wild, no longer trimmed. Some roses bloomed along the garden beds with petals so broad they lay flush against the earth, thorny and rusty. Frost persisted despite summer.

“My Lord, what were you trying to accomplish with that?”

“What do you mean?” Kaniel scowled, glaring at Gora. But it seemed Gora had seen through his bullshit. He sighed, “To set an example.”

“Lies,” Gora said with a low voice. “I’ve received a report from the capital in preparation for your arrival. You possess no mana and have no mastery of either aura or elementals. Forgive me, My Lord, but how were you supposed to set an example with such a body? You knew I’d step up, didn’t you?”

“You speak in riddles. At times rude, at others relenting. Just like how nobles speak.” Kaniel’s expression softened. “Why did I instigate hate, you ask? What do you think?”

“I wouldn't ask if I knew.”

The clearer sight of the castle rose. Once the crux of the military power, the monolith still had the menace it had wielded in its prime. Not a place built to impress visiting nobles or house lavish banquets, the castle had been constructed for survival at war, its walls thick, blocky, and without unnecessary decor, besmeared by years of storms, designed solely to repel sieges and endure whatever was thrown at it.

“Fascinating.” Kaniel tilted his head to the side, bemused. “The architecture. This castle will hold for a hundred more years.”

They walked in silence. Insects such as hoverflies and beetles whizzed on without any care and purpose, coming from nowhere, hidden everywhere.

“If you’re this interested, fine. I want to make him into a noble.” Kaniel gave in. “My eyes are good at picking people. He seemed like he’d do a better job, no?”

Gora straightened his posture and glanced at Kaniel, trying to figure out what kind of demon this man had made a contract with. “Some merchants with the city’s worth of fortune are willing to give it all up to become a noble. What prompted you for such drastic actions?”

“I want to live in peace.” He tapped a finger against his chin. “What’s the difference between being a noble and a commoner if you cannot enjoy life? I may act like a moron, but I refuse to live the life of one.”

Gora couldn’t help but think that it was too late. That the demon had already taken over the lord’s body. Why else would he spew such nonsense? “Is that the best excuse you can muster?” Rude he was. But Gora couldn’t stand those blatant lies for longer. He was a human, just like any other, and had a reservoir of patience that was running thinner and thinner as his time went by talking to this madman.

“You said that the previous lord practiced dark arts, correct?” Kaniel changed the topic shamelessly. “That means he had some chamber of sorts where he had done the experiments. Good. I’ve found a place to set up my alchemical grounds.”

Gora clenched his hands tight. The new lord was even more insufferable than the last one. “I’ll be watching you.” He gave him an empty stare.

Kaniel’s gaze was still plastered on the wondrous castle.

Narrow arrow slits presided over the upper levels to give defenders cover while raining arrows down on attackers. Most openings were boarded shut now, others stuffed with rags to keep the cold winds out. Crenellations of the remnants of old battlements were chipped, a few sections having collapsed, even. The watchtowers had their parapets slanted, the windows set into these towers narrow, their glass panes long gone, replaced by wooden planks.

Kaniel noted the murder holes carved into the ceiling of the archway they passed through, through which scalding oil and boiling water would have been poured on invaders. Now, the holes were clogged with dirt and bird nests.

Finally, they arrived at the entrance. At its top was an engraving of the symbol of the Nashdome Barony, a beautiful northern black warhorse, eroded by frost yet proud still, its eyes fierce and legs stretched forward and back.

Gora opened the door and gestured for Kaniel to step in. Yet, the lord stood frozen, still gazing at the coat of arms, the horse. His eyes were darker than usual, darker than his hair, the horse, or even a starless night sky. Darker than they usually were and the darkest he had ever seen. Gora looked at where the lord did. Beneath the horse were damaged letters. A slogan. Did it trigger some memories? He seemed to mutter something under his breath.

“My Lord?”

Hearing his voice, Kaniel finally awakened from his reverie. He clasped his hand tight against his heart, biting his lips. The dark lusters in his eyes were no more. “I'm pretty tired from the two-week journey to the north.” He smiled at him, weakly.

Gora nodded in acknowledgment. Too many secrets to uncover, but he'd probe another time. It was true that the lord had gone through a strenuous journey, after all. He could sympathize.

Kaniel stepped across the threshold first. Gora followed without a word. As the great door creaked shut behind them, the noise of insects faded into oblivion.

High above, wooden beams sagged. What few torches remained in their brackets along the walls were cold and blackened, untouched by fire for months, if not years. Dust, wood rot, and old smoke pervaded their nostrils.

The only sound was of their faint steps, each one a drop into a still pool. The hallway was lined with pillars that reached a ceiling lost in shadow. Old banners drooped from iron rods fixed to the walls, what symbols they had once borne long since lost to decay, the threads unraveling.

Kaniel wandered his gaze along the walls as they moved forward, his fingers trailing over the straight lines carved into the walls, marks where weapons racks might have stood, and hooks for armor long removed.

They reached the first intersection in the hallway wherein a narrow staircase spiraled upward. There, four maids stood, waiting on a red carpet. Each wore a simple black uniform, worn yet orderly, freshly pressed despite their frayed edges, with white aprons and collars that looked hastily washed as if pressed into service on short notice. They bowed gently. Two to the left and two to the right.

“We welcome the Lord,” said the head maid standing at the right. Despite her age, she looked young, her white hair braided close to the scalp and gathered under a white cap.

Kaniel immediately looked at the maid who stood next to her. To her large and round, hollow and half-lidden, red eyes. Those eyes didn’t belong to a human. Undoubtedly a mutant. The girl didn’t sway from his stare. She stood as she stood, unmoving, unblinking, detached. Her black hair draped around her like a curtain and spilled past her shoulders down her back in unruly waves. The strands near the ends tinged with a dark crimson as though soaked in blood. She held a faint pout to her lips. Not as though she was about to complain but had already given up on the thought in its entirety. Standing in line beside the headmaid seemed to be just another exhausting chore.

“Why is a vampire lost here?” Kaniel asked, locking eyes with Gora.

“She’s Lumine!” someone on the left voiced their dissatisfaction before Gora could respond.

Kaniel shifted his gaze and watched the twins who stood to his left. One pierced him with her dark brown eyes while the other glared at her sister. Perhaps only in north one could find a maid who’d speak back to their noble.

“Very well,” he whispered, pressing his thumb against his brow. “I just want to rest. Then we’ll talk on how to fix this mess. Seriously, only for four people to look after an entire castle? No wonder.”

“I’ll take you to your quarters, Lord!” The same maid raised her hand energetically.

Once again, Kaniel swept a gaze through the twins. The only two physical differences between the bold and timid one were that the latter wore glasses and had her hair braided tightly over one shoulder. Otherwise they were identical. Same round faces. The same couldn’t be said about their personalities; whereas one beamed with energy, the other was a borderline vampire. Right, there was a damn literal vampire to his right.

“Wait. Don’t tell me…” He pointed a finger at Lumine. “She isn’t the demon you were talking about, is she?” he asked Gora.

Gora shrugged. “Yes.”

All the maids tensed up, almost, except the suspect herself who was as indifferent as ever.

“Let’s get out of here.” Kaniel smiled at the maid. The twin. The cheerful one.

She, too, hated awkward situations, as such, quickly led Kaniel toward the staircases.

“We’ve prepared a good meal, Milord,” the headmaid proposed.

“Later.” Kaniel shook his head as he waved his hand.

They slowly trod the stairways. The young maid glanced back at Kaniel every so often, gauging his mood. Kaniel followed in quiet strides.

“What’s your name?” he asked.

“Zara,” she said. “Lord Kaniel, right?”

“Indeed. Though you don’t seem to care about the ‘lord’ part.”

“Hmph,” she tsked. “Uncle Gora told us about you before you arrived in north. A terrible, terrible womanizer!” Her loose bangs fell over one eye. “And what’s wrong with being a vampire, huh?”

Kaniel dismissed her accusations. Instead, he formed a crooked smile. “Aren’t you scared, then, leading me into my quarters, cutey?” He tried to imitate Ehrina.

Zara’s body shook in disgust.

Kaniel trailed one hand along the rough stone wall as they ascended. It grew narrower as they climbed, the torches fewer and farther between, the air colder. When they reached the top of the staircase, she stopped abruptly and turned to face him, her hands clasped in front of her.

“Almost there,” she said with a smile. “Your room overlooks the northern forest. Not much, but peaceful. As peaceful as things get around here.”

They stopped at the end of the hallway. “Your room,” she announced with a flourish, pushing open the large wooden door. The fire in the hearth had already been lit, showering the large room in light across the walls.

At the center stood a large bed draped in blankets, opposite to it a wooden writing desk near the window, and finally, a narrow balcony overlooking the forest beyond at the very end of the room.

He shrugged off his coat, tossing it onto the bed, and crossed the room to the window, then stood there, in silence, watching the wind carry itself.

“I’ll be off then, unless you need something from me,” she said cheerfully.

“I do. Listen.”

The forest was vast, endless, crowded. Yet, it felt lonely.

“You need not worry. I won’t touch Lumine or your sister.”

The sun shone. Yet, it felt cold.

“You neither. You’re too ugly, Zara.”

The door shut with an explosive force. Kaniel looked back. Finally, he was alone.

“System,” he whispered.

A blue hologram formed before him.

98.3%... 98.4%... 98.5%...

The pain in his heart intensified.

Would this be an end? A new beginning? A continuation of past sufferings?

98.6%...

Or perhaps, the beginning of the end.