“Does Anybody Really Know What Time It Is?”
Is it lazy to post this stuff instead of new content? I say no, because while it may not be new content to me, it’s new content to you, dear reader, and that’s reason enough. Although it does go against most suggestions for how to make your blog stand out in ten easy steps with diagrams and circles and arrows and a paragraph on the back of each one explaining what each one was to be used against us in court.
By the time you read this, I’ll be somewhere out east of Illinois, likely hunkered down in a car for ten hours in order to get from empty space to empty space while my brother and I work our way across the country on a road-trip odyssey not unlike a reverse of Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, in most senses of the term. Or, depending on when you read this, I guess, I’ll be back in Illinois, or somewhere else entirely. Who knows? Time is irrelevant on the internet and in real life. Everything that has been always will be, and everything that will be always has been, and everything that is now will probably not be is now for long because who is where is now?
Here’s the most recent chapter in a more chronological story.
Spectral Crown, by Andy Sima: Chapter Seven
It was hard, at first, to see beyond the wall, as it encircled Castle Blestem in its entirety, but once my eyes registered what I was seeing, the castle came to the forefront of my vision. It was stunning and beautiful in every detail, mirroring the nature of its inhabitants down to their shimmery appearance. Constructed of a dark granite, the color of a ripe storm, the gothic structure expanded beyond what I could see from my vantage point on the ground. I felt as if I would break my neck trying to see the entire structure. The structure put Chateau Uradel to shame, as there was no outward hint of any weakness here. A true and proper castle, the stone spires of the towers rose high into the air, seeming to transcend the sky itself and push forth through the grey clouds that swirled overhead. Enormous stone gargoyles, faces twisted in fury, squatted out from various locations on the towers, glaring down with halberds and claymores in hand. Windows like massive eyes stared out from the castle’s many sides, giving it an appearance that it was always watching, always seeing everything that might be going on below. Turrets and minarets shot out from the sides of the castle and from the wall that encircled.
And what a wall, indeed. Now that I had drank my fill of the castle itself, I could turn my attention to the guarding wall. It circled the castle, blocking my view of the lower levels, save a massive wooden gate, now closed. But it must have been manned. One did not have a castle such as this without properly equipping it. With such a grand façade presented to the world below, the castle must have contained treasure beyond my imagining.
“My guests in the nation of Umbra,” Iacob said, stepping down from his driver’s seat as we servants escorted the royal court out of their respective chariots. “Welcome to Castle Blestem, as tall as the nights are long and as old as the shadows themselves.”
“It is beautiful,” my mother whispered to me.
“Absolutely stunning,” I muttered.
“A triumph of engineering,” Simon said quietly.
We stared up, enraptured by the single largest structure we had ever seen. If Iacob had told me then that the castle was carved out of a mountain, I would not have doubted him for an instant. It seemed the most likely explanation for its magnitude.
Off in the distance, I heard the King discussing something with Iacob. “Why did you have us exit our carriages here?” King Adalbert asked. “We have not yet reached the castle!”
“All things in their course,” Iacob said. “I simply wished to give all a chance to admire the view. You do appreciate it, do you not?”
“I would much rather see the inside of it,” the King huffed. The Queen and Prince were silent, apparently as startled as the rest of us were.
“Understood, your majesty,” Iacob said. “You may return to your carriage.”
“Thank you, Prince Iacob,” the King, and ushered his frail family back into the gilded mobile home. Iacob, upon climbing to the driver’s seat again, made a face of disgust. Reinhard had never even exited the carriage.
“Come on, then,” Iacob called out. “You heard your king. Let us move into the castle.” I took another look at the grand edifice before hopping back into the carriage. There was but one road that I could see, and it was the one we had traveled to reach the heart of Umbra. Other than that, surrounding the castle were miles and miles of forest, pine trees that blocked all chances of seeing beyond the clearing in which the castle sat. I would have to trek to the castle’s peak, at some point, and see beyond the forest, I decided. High above, spinning grey clouds coated the sky.
Our caravan of carriages and squad of soldiers reached the gate, and Iacob stood up in his driver’s seat. He made some wordless signal with his hands, and the gates opened with a sound like trees falling. A cloud of dust rose about the road that led into the walls and obscured my view of the area beyond. All I could see was a gaping dark hole in the side of the wall. The caravan trundled onward, into the unknown.
We entered that cavernous mouth in the wall, out of the light and into darkness. We were only in the wall’s shadow for the few seconds it took to pass through, but in that time, I saw no soldiers or individuals of any nature controlling the gates. As we passed close to the wall’s interior, I could see that it was an incredibly thick structure, easily a score of feet across or more. I was unsure what kind of armies that this wall was protecting against, as it seemed like overkill for mere human soldiers.
Once we crossed this stony passage and exited back into what little sunlight shone through the clouds, I saw that the wall itself encapsulated not only Castle Blestem but also a village. It hugged at the outskirts of the human-made monolith like an abandoned child, and abandoned was indeed a fitting word; the town seemed to lack life of any kind. Its wooden buildings were falling into rot, and the roads were rutted and not particularly well-kept. No wonder Iacob let us out before the walls. Letting us out inside the walls would have ruined any sense of wonder.
“Where is everyone?” my mother asked out loud, to no one in particular.
“Not here, apparently,” Simon replied, looking out the window at the rundown buildings that passed us. “Perhaps it is too early for them?”
And maybe Simon was right, ludicrous as the idea seemed, because every so often I could have sworn that I saw shadows and figures move in the alleyways of the town or in the windows of the homes and shops. Humanoid shapes that drifted and gusted about in the town like so many ghosts. There was no form to them, and I could not pin down any details because as soon as I spotted them they returned to the rotted wood that they appeared from.
“There are people, though,” I said. “Do you see them moving?”
Simon, my mother, and the other servant with us stared hard out the window.
“I don’t believe I see what you’re talking about,” Simon said. He wiped his glasses on his travel cloak.
“I see movement, yes, but they can’t be people, can they?” My mother said.
“Maybe it’s livestock,” the other servant said.
“No, they’re definitely people,” I said. “But why are they hiding? Wouldn’t a procession be a cause for celebration?”
“Perhaps the sun is too bright,” Simon joked, looking out the window and up at the grey clouds above. No one laughed, for in this odd realm of Umbra, it seemed all too plausible.
We were quiet the rest of the short route through the decomposing village, and once we reached the foothills of Castle Blestem, the carriages turned away from the main doors and looped around to the right.
“We shall park the carriages in the stable house,” Iacob explained to the drivers. “For now, it is preferable that guests do not leave their carriages.” Looking through the windows, I noted with a sinking feeling that the soldiers were nowhere to be seen. I had not seen them since we passed through the wall.
Our carriages, all of us waiting eagerly to be inside the castle and out of the foul, empty town, moved forward. Eventually we turned a corner around the castle and came upon a large empty space, in which there were neither rotten houses or any castle structures. It was simply a large field, flush with the castle’s wall, in which some stray horses grazed breezily. Moving through this field, past the Blestemat horses, I got the distinct impression that we were in a world very different than the valley I had grown up in.
On our left was the castle wall, and on our right, beyond the little field of horses, was more of the strange town that we had passed through. But, reaching some mark that I could not see from the carriage, Iacob signaled for us to halt. Then, as a particularly dense cloud blocked the sun, something made a massive rumbling sound from outside. All was dark on the inside and outside of the carriages, and by the time my eyes adjusted, the cloud had passed on, leaving thinner specimens in its trail. But it was then that I saw we were no longer in an empty field. By some strange mechanics, the field had disappeared, only to be replaced with a stone stable, attached to the side of the castle. The walls seemed to have simply sprung up around us.
“How did we get into this building?” I asked my mother.
“I’m… not entirely sure, Saelac,” she replied. She looked about.
“We came through the front door, of course,” Simon answered.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“We simply moved on the carriages into this stable house. How else would we have entered it?” Simon said. But sweat was forming on his brow. His eyes clouded, and he seemed confused. He tittered nervously and muttered something about a headache.
I heard a call from Iacob outside the carriage. “You may now disembark your vehicles,” he said. The other servant in our carriage hastily opened the door and hopped out, walking away without looking back. He muttered something about going to find his brother, a soldier, as he left. The small boy’s name, I think, was George.
I looked around me at the stone and wood stable, and saw holding pens with numerous horses, ones that I had been sure just a minute before were grazing peacefully outside. I looked around, at the stone ceiling above, at the hay covered floor below, and at the wooden beams placed at regular intervals. Ours was tied to one such column, as were all the others. The room was lit by torches hanging from the ceiling.
We were no longer in a line, as the carriages had been while travelling, but a rectangular formation to better fit in the stable house. I had no recollection of the train changing shape, but the more I thought about it, the more I recalled an event of that nature occurring. And in the same way, the harder I thought, the clearer an image appeared to me of us entering the stable. And yet I could not shake the feeling that it had simply popped into existence.
Iacob stepped down from his driver’s seat and opened the door for the Uradel royals. “Your Majesty, we are now within the walls of Castle Blestem. You may breathe easily.”
The King, Queen, and Prince stepped out of the carriage. After a moment, the pudgy Reinhard tumbled out, too. “Say, King Adalbert,” Reinhard began after squinting at his surroundings. “Where are the soldiers?”
Now that someone else had spoken it, the thought finally registered that the men had seemingly vanished into the wall just minutes before. Where had they gone? Where could they have gone? The wall was solid rock, and the village was empty. How do heavily-armed fighters disappear?
“They were led into the castle through a different route,” Iacob explained, raising his voice so that all could hear his explanation. “It was more efficient for them to travel with Umbra soldiers, so they could become acquainted with the terrain. You will see them again soon enough.”
“I don’t like our guard being removed without my permission,” the King said. “Where are they? I would like them to return to us at once.”
“My apologies, your majesty, but that is not possible at the moment,” Iacob said, red lips smiling a crescent-thin smile. “For their safety, it was necessary that they travel with Umbra soldiers, departing from our caravan at the wall.”
“For their safety?” Reinhard asked. “They’re the best men in Uradel! What could hurt them here?”
“It is best not to discuss that question at this moment,” Iacob said, eyes burning intensely on the little man. Iacob held his hands behind his back, twisting his fingers ever so slightly.
“If you insist,” Reinhard said after a moment of fiercely gazing at Iacob’s blank paper face. The little man began to perspire and looked away quickly.
“And I do insist,” Iacob whispered. Although he whispered, I could hear his voice as clear as day.
“Now,” Prince Iacob said, and addressed the ensemble as a whole, turning to the troubled court members and servants alike. “Have your servants remove anything you wish to bring with you into the castle. Do not leave it with your carriages. The horses may damage it. Uradel nobles, please follow me into the great hall. And drivers,” Iacob added. “You may unbridle your horses and direct them to any empty stall.”
There was a minute of indecision, and then a cough from the king. “Well?” he croaked. “Let’s get on with it!”
“Yes, move it!” Prince Maynard cried, imitating his father. Queen Annalise said nothing, but her icy eyes gave impetus enough.
My mother, Simon, and I made our way over to the king’s carriage and began unloading the trunks there stacked. I felt eyes on the back of my neck and turned around for just a moment. But that was enough to see Iacob watching me before he turned away and strode into the castle, cloak billowing behind him and the Uradel nobility in his wake.
Some time in the future, or in the past, or if you read this at exactly Tuesday August 18th at 1:30pm Central Standard Time in the present, the next chapter will exist online…
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