Ghost of the Dark Castle

Part 1--

The last thing I remember seeing was the agonizing glare of fire. I had never seen anything that was brighter than the sun in my entire life. It rippled and jumped in a way that was both graceful and fatal.

Before I had blacked out, I remembered hearing a sound that haunted me forever: blood curling screams and crackling applause.

At the same time, I both knew what had happened and denied it. I understood though, that there was no turning back and that what had happened did indeed happen.

I picked myself up off the ground and went to find my mother and my brothers.

Eventually, I spotted them by the river with the other survivors.

Forgetting that I could not be seen nor heard, I raced toward them, yelling out their names. None of them even blinked. No-one blinked.

Skidding to a stop, I realized with a sinking heart that it had indeed happened.

"Nothing is left for most of you anymore," our chief announced, "Those you wish to leave, leave with my blessing, but those who wish to stay, please stay and help me rebuild our village."

The crowd thinned. I knew my mother would be among the ones leaving the village. I knew for a fact that with what had happened to me, she would take my brothers somewhere where they could forget me and grow up without me plaquing their thoughts every minute.

I climbed onto the Windtrain, a fairly large cart with wooden seats and patched sails, with my mother and brothers. I could hear my youngest brother whooping when the wind blew onto his face as we departed. My mother even managed a smile.

sUnfair, I thought. The wind seemed to go straight through me and I felt as though I was standing the the desert, with its blistering heat pressing in at all sides.

I watched as the environment rapidly transformed from golden plains to a strip of sand running straight through the ocean.

I gazed in wonder at its diamond like surface. Never before had I seen such a magnificent sight! The river at the village could never compare to this.

As the Windtrain travelled across the ocean, I realized I hadn't experienced much in my short life. I believe my mother had once told me I was 'nine', and from what I have gathered, that isn't very old at all.

I took time to reflect on my life. I remember trees in the village - lots and lots of wondrous trees. I remember the moon - it rose brilliantly once a cycle and glowed beautifully. I remember the days when the clouds were clean and teethwhite, when on every other day of my life, they were stormy gray because of the pollution caused by our ancient ancestors.

There was so much more I hadn't seen, and so much more I will never.

Everyday, they ate the portions my mother managed to salvage. When they weren't eating, they were laughing at jokes I did not understand, and reading scripts my mother owned. I often peered over my brothers shoulders to try and read.

When the moon rose, my mother wrestled with my brothers to wrap them in the blankets she had brought. And when she was sure they were sleeping, she would rest too.

I often felt envy, watching their peaceful faces and their chests slowly rise fall, as well as my mothers protective arms armouring my brother even in their sleep. I couldn't ever have an inch of drowsiness again, or have the privilege of human contact ever again.

But the world, however hesitant, came alive at night. Owls hooted, and rode the waves of wind. Slim birds dove in and out of the currents with fruitful catches. Certain dolphins leaped, performing flawless leaps and twists for me. And I loved it! Perhaps what had happened wasn't too bad after all.

Whenever the sun began to climb his mountain, I felt half sad that the night was leaving, but exhilarated that my mother and my brothers were waking once again.

It seemed just ordinary, I thought, when every morning my mother, before rising my brothers, looked out into the distance. But now I suspect that she's looking for something.

My hunch was proven correct when my mother looked and whooped, scaring my brother horribly.

"Look!" my mother scooped my brothers up and squeezed them tightly. "The castle! Only one more day!"

My brothers, like me, had no idea what she was going on about,. So we patiently waited for the answer to reveal itself the next day.

The Windtrain slowly came to a stop as my mother took down the sails. My brothers bounced and around, and as soon as we halted, jumped off and stretched their legs for the first time in nearly a cycle.

Unlike them, I surveyed the scene. We had landed in front of a dark and forbidden castle. Vines crawled up the stone, and yellow grass grew in small nooks along the walls.

Of course, she couldn't see it, but I stared at her in horror. She had a look of glee on her face that only expressed enough that she was going to make my brothers - and me, for that matter - live here! Couldn't she see how dangerous it was?

Before my father had died, he had told me stories of a dark castle that lay across the sea in a land of fortune.

In the time before the modern cycles had begun, people were decapitated in its courtyard and thrown off the turrets. Secrets and deception ran through its halls, and death was its name. Some say the Dark Castle must be cursed, or how else would it have lasted so long?

I suspected that this was the infamous Dark Castle. My brother didn't even spare a second glance, but I stared at it for a long time.

Strangely, the more I looked at it, the more it seemed like a crumbling structure than a cursed castle. It lost its dark glare and gained a golden glow. I realized my mother had known this, and had the right decision in bringing my brothers here.

Grasping my brothers shoulders, she guided them into their new home.

They were raw happiness, kissing my mother a million times on the cheek and thanking her a billion times. "It's wonderful!" they exclaimed. "It's beautiful!"

Slowly, over dozens of cycles, my mother, starting to gray, and my brothers, growing into fine young men, my youngest with a gorgeous, caring wife, transformed the castle into a wonderful home. They built farms and gathered livestock, and made individual bedrooms. They hung painting in the hallways and often had camp-fire nights in the courtyard.

Sometimes, they would catch glimpses of me, and tears would well in their eyes. They often spoke of me, and wish that I had been among the survivors instead of perishing in that horrible fire. But they knew that I was there with them. And I stayed at the castle even after they had gone, and their children and grandchildren took ownership of the castle. They didn't necessarily knew who I was, but my story was passed down from mouth to ear well enough.

They called me the Ghost of the Dark Castle.

Part 2 --

Our family had lived here for thousands of years. And since the first, simple days, we had prospered.

I had heard the story of the ghost a few years ago when I had seen a young girl watching me off the battlement. She had cheek in her eyes.

They told me her name was Jade Leen, one of our ancient ancestors. They told me that she young, and had died in the horrible village fire of Angeles, a tragedy in one of the smaller colonies of the time. Angeles is now one of the biggest trade centres in the world.

Poor little Jade doesn't know that, though. She left Angeles forever with her mother, Sapphire, and her brothers, Onyx and Quartz. Sapphire was the one who took them to the once feared Dark Castle. Onyx and Quartz never knew of the deception and death that surrounded the Dark Castle, but Sapphire did, and bravely made it their new home.

Sometimes, they caught glimpses of Jade, and the days that followed were often painful as they remembered her short life ended by the fire of Angeles.

They told me two dozen cycles after their arrival at the Dark Castle, a native from the land of fortune that surrounded the castle visited, and a few cycles later, she was happily bonded with Onyx.

And so the Leen line continued.

Some of the Leen children decided to build their lives elsewhere, but most stayed.

And so, over hundred of years, and then thousands, the Leen changed shape and size, voice and mind, body and soul to become the most powerful family on the face of the earth. We have members, most under different names, of our line situated in the Antarctic and the Sahara.

The only things that didn't change was the castle and Jade.

I pain for her. She had to watch us grow and prosper for thousands of years when she never had the chance to gray like the rest of us.

But I suspect if she hadn't perished in the fire of Angeles, our line would have followed suit before it could even expand.

In a way, it's good she died. Jade gave us life.