“I never thought getting an apartment would be this exhausting”
I don’t think I’ve mentioned this on here before, but I’m moving to Minneapolis in the fall of this year. I’ve told pretty much everyone close to me at this point, as well as anyone who will listen and/or ask what I’m doing in the fall, but in case you haven’t heard, that’s what’s up. Sometime around July or August, I will be packing up and leaving the Champaign-Urbana area for the first time in four (!!!) years, which is really weird when I type it out. And, what’s more, this will be the first time I’ve lived out of Illinois, excepting Philmont. So I’m pretty excited!
Why am I doing this, you may be asking? Is it because there are better job prospects? No, not really. Is it because Minneapolis is better than Champaign-Urbana? Maybe true, but no. Is it because I live by the seat of my pants and am unable to imagine my own future outside of unrealistic pipe dreams? Probably that one, yeah. Mostly it’s because I want to, for one. But for two, mainly it’s because my brother is moving to Minneapolis for school, as he’s going to the University of Minnesota for the rest of his undergraduate program. He and I always thought it would be really cool to live in a new city together and explore a new place together, so we always kind of planned to move together, and now that we have the chance, I’m jumping on that opportunity to follow him to a different place. And what’s even better is that my partner, Cheyenne, is moving with me! So the three of us are going to be living in a brand new city, having new adventures in somewhere that isn’t Illinois. Finally.
But what does this have to do Spectral Crown, since that’s the title of today’s blog? Well, admittedly very little, but circumstantial evidence suggests that I was in Minneapolis with Cheyenne this weekend to try and find a place to live, and I ended up not having enough time to write more for my blog than this. But I can give a quick rundown on Minneapolis! We walked around downtown and got dinner in the skyscraper area, and then we took tours of different neighborhoods and suburbs to see what housing was available and also within our price range. We walked along the lakes to the west of the city, and even got a chance to go to the Mall of America, which is a place so bizarre that it could probably be a post here in and of itself. We only had like 48 hours or less in the actual city, so we didn’t see much more than apartments, but it was still a pretty nice time. And the city is super pretty, too! I’m really excited to move there, it seems like there’s tons of different things to do. And it’s closer to the boundary waters, so I can finally try and go canoeing, maybe.
Once I get some more time in the city, I’ll probably write a whole post about it, just like I used to for other cities. I mean, nothing’s quite as easy to harp on as it is in, say, Los Angeles, at least from an environmental science standpoint, so maybe I could do a positive review of a city? I’m not sure yet! But you can bet your bottom dollar that I’ll be talking about the city a lot more in the future, hopefully when I have an actual job and a regular schedule and I can, for the first time in my life, block out a specific set of regularly-scheduled writing time to put together a weekly blog. Wouldn’t that be something? Guaranteed writing time every week? Wonders never cease.
Anyway, since I don’t have that luxury yet, here’s Spectral Crown again. And here’s the previous chapter.
Spectral Crown, by Andy Sima: Chapter Twenty
Once I woke up, and once we had ascertained that no one else had been spirited away in the night, I gathered my wits and made my way to the common room, where I noticed that most people were already seated to breakfast. The platters that were laid out were, like always, delectable in every way, but I now suspected their true purpose; the Blestemats were fattening us up. But that didn’t matter. Food was food, and I didn’t intend to get devoured, anyway. Whatever Simon said, I did plan on returning to those walls sooner or later. Perhaps alone. That would be easiest, anyway. I had to see that green room again.
I sat down at the breakfast table next to my mother and across from Simon and Reinhard. He didn’t usually choose to eat with us, but then again, he had no one else to sit with.
“Good morning, mother,” I said, and helped myself to a plate of something that looked exotic and tasted even stranger.
“Good morning, Saelac,” she said, cutting at a piece of ham. “How did you sleep?”
“Fitfully,” I said.
“Nightmares, I would imagine,” Simon said, not looking up from his plate, where he studiously pushed what looked like olives back and forth. “I had a few, myself.”
“You didn’t even go in the tunnels,” I said. I did not want to offend Simon; I simply wanted to point out a truth.
“This is true,” he said, tired. The fervor he had last night was all but gone.
“True, indeed, but maybe not forever,” Reinhard said, far too chipper for his own good. The only time I had ever seen Reinhard so happy was when he was about to execute someone.
“Are you suggesting I will venture into the tunnels, too?” Simon said, eyeing Reinhard.
“There’s no telling what the future may hold,” the little man said. “And Saelac,” he added, “how did you sleep?”
“Fitfully,” I repeated, not sure where this was going.
“No, I mean, how did you sleep, knowing that two, maybe four deaths, were on your hands?” Reinhard said, chittering quietly.
“My hands?” I said, quietly. I lacked to energy to confront that particular goblin of a man now.
“Yes, your hands. George. Kolte. And maybe the other two were stolen away because you went into the tunnels, hmm?”
“No, they ventured into the tunnels on their own accord,” my mother lied.
“Even better,” Reinhard said. “They only knew about the tunnels because Saelac found them in the first place.”
“That’s enough, Reinhard. Leave the boy be,” Simon said, still staring down.
“Oh? And how do you intend to enforce that, Simon Taylor?” Simon said nothing, but began to pick at his glasses as well as his food. Reinhard sniffed. “I thought so.”
“Regardless,” my mother said. “Their deaths are not Saelac’s fault. They could not be. If this were a normal castle, we would all still be alive.”
“But this is a normal castle,” Reinhard grinned. “As normal as any other.”
“You know that is false,” I said.
“Prove it,” Reinhard said. “Show me something supernatural.” He was goading me into taking him into the tunnels or telling him what I had seen there. I would not, no, could not cave to it. Some part of me was certain that Reinhard should not enter the space behind the walls. I regarded Reinhard with silence and continued to eat my meal. I ignored him as best I could.
“Silence won’t get you anywhere, Saelac. Just enjoy that meal while you can,” the short man said. Under his carefree demeanor dripped a venom that was normally reserved for the most vicious of beasts.
Reinhard stood up, taking his plate with him, and retired to his own section of the male quarters. He had such a flair for the dramatic that I was certain he existed only to give cryptic statements and provide antagonism to our lives. Perhaps that was really what he fed on, and physical food was just a front.
“A piece of work, that man,” my mother said.
“A piece of work indeed.” Simon murmured in agreement and continued to eat. From around us, others of our caste began their meals or finished them and talked. There was an underlying sense of dread to it. We all knew what our fate was to be here. This was just prolonging the inevitable.
It was just after the last of us had finished breakfast that Iacob’s servants came to us. “Good mornings to all,” the tallest servant said after they had stepped through the locked door. We hadn’t even realized they were present until they rang the little bell they always had with them and summoned everyone to the common room. “The Uradel royalty has requested their servants in catering to them during the arduous process of preparing the royal wedding. If you will, follow me forthwith.” The urbane figure of the servants turned around as one and walked back to the door, which they unlocked and opened. Once we made sure everyone was accounted for, we followed them.
“You are missing one more,” the tallest servant said as we tailed their group down the halls and towards the spiral staircase. “Kolte, was it?”
“An astute observation,” my mother said. There was no further mention of Kolte or of the two who had gone missing of more abstract means.
As we trekked around the castle, down the stairs and through the vaulted halls that led us back to the great foyer, I fell into step with Ema. I gave a hello.
“How are you faring this morning?” I said to her.
“Not well,” she said, declining to look at me. “But better than yesterday.”
“You seem to be doing better than Franz, at least,” I said, checking over my shoulder. Straggling behind us, at the back of the group, were the hulking, orange-haired figures of Franz and Freda, haloed in smoke from their pipes. Franz’s movements lacked an impetus and were more like those of a puppet.
“That does not matter,” she said. “What use is it to compare my status to that of another?”
“None,” I supposed. “But it attests to your character.”
“And what value does that have, if Kolte is still dead?” she said, staring straight ahead. “I’m sorry,” was all I could say. And as the conversation ended there, I drifted over to my mother. She, at least, had not yet forsaken her beliefs in me. I hoped.
“How goes it,” I said to her as we walked. By this time, we had passed out of the great foyer and down some other halls, which looked nearly identical to the ones we had just came from, except now the walls were draped with royal tapestries and vases of flowers stood on pedestals in every nook and cranny. We were approaching the royal quarters.
“It goes,” she said, and she, too, took note in the change of décor. The tapestries displayed the normal array of knights performing heroic deeds and kings saving their kingdoms, but every so often we would come across one that seemed off. My mother pointed one of these out to me.
“Do you see that one?” she said, gesturing up to a tapestry hung from the ceiling.
The tapestry was a soft green, not unlike the crystal thrones that Iacob and Sorina rested upon, but depicted shadowy figures at its heart. Unformed things danced and writhed for whatever odd purposes they could find, and at their very center sat an emerald crown, an even more vivid green than the rest of the tapestry. The shadow figures seemed to dance all the more as I stared.
“That is an odd motif,” I said, for I had noticed that same crown on some of the other tapestries.
“Are we art connoisseurs now, Bergmann family?” Reinhard said from behind us. “Keep walking.”
Eventually we were lead into a large room, not dissimilar to the court room back in Chateau Uradel, or even the throne room in this very castle. A large table was set in the middle of the room, with satellite tables on either side of it. All the chairs were already filled, with Maynard and Sorina at the center, circled by King Adalbert and Queen Annalise on Maynard’s side and Iacob and the stablemaster on Sorina’s. The rest of the seats of the remaining tables were taken up by the many members of the Uradel court, and Laurentiu, who I unfortunately noticed was present. Sorina’s handmaids stood in a cluster at the far wall, near a set of doors. The Blestemat king and queen were still nowhere to be seen.
The royals seated at the table were wrapped up in some sort of discussion regarding the nature of relations between the two families, once the marriage was consummated, and who would live where. Thrown in were bits and pieces of other discussions, mostly being taken up by the lesser Uradels as they worked out what meals would be served, who would provide the music, who would partake of the first dance, when the ceremonial dishes would be smashed, and other such intricacies that no lower-class marriage would ever hope to afford.
The talk that was spread about that room was quite useless and did not serve any purpose except to stroke the egos of the Uradel royals. I had the impression that the Blestemats did not particularly care for the details as Sorina and Iacob seemed disinterested in the day’s proceedings. But they kept up impressions for the sake of Maynard, Adalbert, and Annalise.
“Please stand at intervals around the room,” Iacob’s servant instructed us. “The royals will call upon you as needed. The door at the back of the room leads to a secondary kitchen, where you may retrieve refreshments as requested. Should the royals need anything else, check the stock room. There will be an Umbra guard to assist you.” He pointed to the far back wall, where Sorina’s maids still stood, near doors to the kitchen and the storage room, presumably. The doorways were similar to the bricked-up approach we had found in the castle’s secret chambers.
I heard a hiss from Simon. “You heard the man. Spread out. We have work to do.”
“Work to do indeed,” Reinhard said to himself. “I will be seating myself at the end of this table.” And so the little man did, dropping himself at a subsidiary table on the right, where there was, somehow, an empty chair. As if he had been expected.
I positioned myself behind Prince Maynard by walking around the outside of the room, just as Simon moved to King Adalbert and my mother to Queen Annalise. We stood, silent sentinels, and waited to be called upon. It was our job, and for quite a while, it felt as if we were back in Chateau Uradel and nothing had changed. We existed to serve.
There came after a while a lull in the proceedings, and Maynard called me over to refill his wine glass. “Ah, Saelac, it has been quite a while,” the thin prince said. “Sorina, my sweet, have you met Saelac yet?”
Sorina, the beautiful Blestemat woman, looked me over and smiled approvingly. “Iacob has told me of your nature, Sir Bergmann,” she said.
“He is quite an adept attendant, I will add,” Maynard said. “Never fails to do his job.” There was a beat of silence. “Well?” he said. “Aren’t you going to thank me for my compliment?”
“Thank you, your highness,” I said, and bowed low.
“That’s better,” Maynard said, and grinned at Sorina, apparently proud of his control over a fellow human. Sorina smiled as if dealing with a child. “Now, Saelac, please refill my glass.”
“Yes, your majesty,” I said, and took his empty glass from the table. I crossed behind the rest of the royals, slipping through some throngs of servants, and made my way into the secondary kitchen that Iacob’s servant had mentioned.
It was a quaint affair, really, rather cramped and homey. It felt much like the servant’s kitchens back in Chateau Uradel. Stone hearths blazed against the far walls, while tables of marble sat in the middle of the room, set for preparing whatever meal was required. Large vats of broth bubbled ceaselessly over fires, and cupboards and drawers lay open at odd angles, revealing their contents. I was pleased to find that they were typical kitchen implements and not something more evil. At the other end of the room were two doors, one that lead to the pantry and one to what was probably a cellar. Both doors were open but gave no secrets, as it was too dark to see. I was thankful that I did not have to venture into the cellar. A cask of wine was already set up in the far corner.
Brushing by hanging cloves of garlic and other drying spices, I made my way to the barrel of red wine and poured Maynard a glass. It came out especially viscous at first, but soon flowed more easily. I sniffed it experimentally. It smelled like red wine.
Leaving the kitchen behind as other servants entered to retrieve some other assortment of items, I smiled at Sorina’s maids as they huddled in the space between the kitchen and the store room. They stared me down, and as I was distracted, someone grabbed my arm violently. Surprised, I jerked around to look at the offending individual, and was met with the face of Laurentiu.
His face was still beautiful and young, like every other Blestemat I had met, but his hair, I noticed, was not close-cropped like Iacob’s or the stablemasters, but rather knotted into locks that framed his face with blackness. His eyes seemed to bore into me with a sort of swirling force that I could not look away from. He pulled me into the storeroom doorway.
“Hello, young servant,” the man hissed, voice low and strained, very much unlike the voice I had heard only yesterday. “I don’t believe we’ve met before.” His nails dug into the skin of my arm.
“I am Saelac,” I said, as calmly as I could. “Attendant to Prince Maynard.”
“An attendant, are you?” Laurentiu said and smiled evilly. His teeth seemed far sharper than they should have been. “Iacob has taken quite a liking to you, boy. But be careful.” And Laurentiu took a deep sniff, his nostrils opening like sinkholes. “In castle Blestem, we don’t like vermin in our midst.”
“I will remember that,” I said, and Laurentiu let go of my arm. Marks where his fingers had dug into my flesh were quite visible.
“Good,” Laurentiu said, still staring at me, still smiling. “You’d do well to.”
And with that, he disappeared just as quickly as he had appeared in the first place. I was not sure where he had gone or what his place was in the Blestemat court, but I did not see him again that day.
Shaking, hopefully not visibly, I moved over to where Maynard was seated and gave him his glass of wine. He turned and smiled at me, teeth as sunken into his head as his eyes were.
“Wonderful. Thank you, Saelac,” he said.
“Yes, your majesty,” I said, bowed, and moved back a respectful distance from the table. Sorina’s eyes watched me as a I moved away.
I stood there for quite a while, occasionally exchanging glances with my mother, and occasionally refilling drinks or foodstuffs as was needed. It was rather uneventful until Sorina called a recess for lunch.
“A capital idea,” King Adalbert said to his wife, and the two of them stood up together. The rest of the court stood, too, once the king and queen were standing, with Maynard and Sorina holding hands tightly. Her grip dwarfed his reedy fingers.
Iacob was the first to break away from the table, and made his way back into the store room, a room I had not yet visited. The rest of the royals ignored his departure and made their way to the front of the room and the door we had initially entered through. I was about to follow them, along with the rest of the servants, when Sorina’s tallest handmaid tapped me lightly on the shoulder.
“Prince Iacob Blestemat requests that you dine with him privately for this luncheon,” she said, face utterly impassive. I had a sudden sinking feeling and was keenly aware of a pair of eyes on me. Looking around, I noted that they belonged to Reinhard. The two sparkles that were Reinhard’s eyes twinkled with malice and joy.
“What for?” I asked, as carefully as I could.
“He will inform you once you are with him,” the maid said. “Follow me.”
And, having no other choice, I followed the group of handmaids to the store room, away from everyone else, as they lead me through the door and into the unknown once again.
You know, for all I’ve talked about Resident Evil: Village and its similarities to Spectral Crown, having now finished the game, they aren’t actually that similar after the first couple of hours. But it’s still a pretty cool game, and there may be a review in the works…
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