“It was a dark and stormy night.”

Someone in the audience groaned. Marcus rolled his eyes and continued his slow walk back to the castle.

“On second thought, that’s not right,” Clonk said. “It was bright and clear that morning, but by late afternoon, a blanket of fog had descended upon the mountain. When I first saw the banners of the invaders who had come to lay siege to us, it was already too late to flee.”

Marcus stopped near where Gideon was leaning against the wall. “Hmm,” he said, then pulled a pipe and a small tobacco box out of his pocket.

In its carrying case, Gideon’s staff was leaning against him. Though he was starting to feel paranoid, it hadn’t left his side since his fight with Mortimer Rook.

“Though it might surprise you, considering the current state of Castle Kastorus, this was once a place of sunlight, joy, and life. Make no mistake, dear guests. This castle is not haunted by the ghosts who dwell within its halls. It is haunted by the memory of what it used to be, of what it wished to be, of what it lost. I suppose I shall start there. With the last day before its fall, and the first night of its haunting…”

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That day is like a wall dividing my memory—everything else is considered in relation to whether it happened before or after the crusade.

I will not say that my friends did not deserve their reckoning. There were dire experiments performed here, abominations in the eyes of the gods and the god-fearing. They say that no wizard truly fears the gods because in their hearts, they wish to one day number among them.

Lord Kelvan Kastorus fit that description. All his life, he wished for nothing more than true understanding, absolute mastery of his reality. There was only one thing he loved more than wizardry, and her name was Lady Harmony.

Even now, hundreds of years after her passing, it pains me to speak of her. She had been stricken by manaplague as a child. In those days, there was no cure. Though she recovered, its effects lingered. The disease followed her like a shadow. In the end, she succumbed before her time.

After her passing, Lord Kelvan did everything he could to bring her back. And I do mean everything. If you go deep enough, some of the horrors from those days still linger beneath the castle.

Many of the castle staff began to leave in horror and disgust. In the end, I do not know how the crusaders found out. But when they finally came, the castle was close to empty. Everyone sane had already fled.

When I saw the banners and lights approaching that day, coming up the mountain pass just as you did, I ran from the castle overlook to the central keep as fast as I could.

I banged my gauntlet on the door to Lord Kelvan’s study. I still remember those moments clearly. I did not wait for an answer, instead opening the door and barging into a meeting between Lord Kelvan and Grimsby Harrington, whose cuisine you have all enjoyed this evening.

My Lord was immensely annoyed with me.

Mr. Harrington, however, looked relieved. Or at least he did until I started to speak. As it turned out, I had interrupted his resignation. He was planning to leave this castle the very next day.

Sadly, he never got the chance.

“A force is coming up the mountain,” I said, and the room became quiet for a long moment.

“Do they have a banner?” Kelvan asked, steepling his fingers above his desk. He did not act surprised. If anything, he seemed almost pleased that the conflict he’d been expecting had finally come, and that he would have more materials for his experiments.

“A white flame on blue,” I said.

“Crusaders of Celestra,” Grimsby screamed, knocking over his chair as he stood. “I told you.” His voice was reproachful as he turned to Lord Kelvan and jabbed his shaking finger in our master’s face. “They’re here because of you. You thought you could do whatever you wanted without consequences, and you just—” His voice sputtered out, and his fists shook in rage. “You’ve doomed us all.”

Kelvan’s face betrayed no emotion. He shook his head, then picked up his staff from where it leaned against the wall and cradled it in one arm as if it were a child. “I can’t apologize for something I do not regret, Mr. Harrington. If Lady Ondine had passed, what would you have done to bring her back?”

Grimsby picked up the overturned chair, sat down, and put his face in his hands. His silence was answer enough.

“Lady Ondine made no attempt to discourage me, you know,” Kelvan added. “On the contrary, she handed me the bone saw and told me where to cut. I would have made it only half as far without her.”

I listened to them argue patiently, saying nothing, taking no sides. Because I understood. Neither of them were wrong. I was only saddened by the fact no one meant as much to me as Kelvan’s wife had meant to him or Ondine meant to Grimsby.

After all, I was only armor.

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The longer he spoke, the more silent the courtyard had become. There was barely a whisper until Marcus blew out a cloud of smoke, cleared his throat, and asked, “So by then, you were already dead?”

Clonk stopped and seemed to consider the question. Then, carefully, he reached up and lifted off his helm, revealing only emptiness where his head should have been. He placed his helm on the stage next to him. A few people in the audience gasped.

Caelan Whitfield turned around in his chair, looked back at Gideon, and gave a thumbs up as he smirked. “Clever,” he whispered.

Gideon smiled hesitantly back. Did Caelan think Gideon was performing this illusion all by himself? Back when Clonk was going to perform a dramatic reading, Gideon had planned to work the lights, and use a [Quake] to gently shake the audience during the part of the story where Wraithwood Manor began to collapse. But now that Clonk had gone off script, Gideon had only been paying rapt attention.

If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

“You assume I was once alive,” Clonk said from the stage. “I would tell you my origins if I could remember them. All I know is that I have watched over this place longer than any other inhabitant. A thousand years, perhaps? Not that I have ever counted.”

He picked up the helm and put it back on.

“Anyway,” he said, “where was I…”

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I left Kelvan’s study and ran to the armory, which used to be located next to the gatehouse but has since fallen to ruin. If you look over there, you can see a few moss-covered blocks, which are all that remain. The rest was taken long ago and used to repair other parts of the castle.

From the top hook of a weapon rack, I retrieved a long, gleaming silver polearm etched with runes. The touch of the metal filled me with serenity and grace. The weapon was older than I was, and I did not know its origins. All I knew was that I had never been defeated while wielding it.

Unlike now, both gate doors were on their hinges and were bolted shut. But I knew they would not stand forever against the host I had seen.

Soon, Lady Ondine came to the courtyard to join me. Grimsby had already informed her of our troubles, and she looked pensive. She wore one of her usual dresses, as white as the moon, and a shawl wrapped around her shivering shoulders. I suppose the fog had made the air cold, but I couldn’t feel such things myself.

She was hugging a leather satchel tightly against her chest, and I looked at it curiously, wondering what Lord Kelvan’s personal alchemist and Lady Harmony’s closest friend had prepared.

“You should go back inside,” I instructed. “Or to the overlook with Lord Kelvan. You will be safer there.”

She shook her head and walked past me. Slowly, she climbed the steps leading to the gatehouse roof. I followed her carefully.

When we reached the top, I peeked over the battlements and saw the train of invaders closer than before, about to turn up the final stretch of the trail that led straight to our gates.

Ondine emptied her satchel and lined up a row of glass bottles on the roof. The mixtures within them were various colors. Some bubbled or steamed, while others appeared inert.

“Allow me to use those,” I said, but she shook her head again.

I tried to think of something that might discourage her recklessness.

“Mr. Harrington is in love with you,” I told her, because it was true. I hadn’t realized it before that day. I was not very perceptive of such things. But everything had become apparent after the conversation I’d heard in the study.

She looked up at me and scowled. From the bag, she took out a sling. I realized it had a cup that would fit the bottom of the glass bottles.

“He would have already left the castle, but he stayed here because of you,” I added.

At last, she spoke. “A curse on your house, Knight. I never ever asked him to do that.”

“You didn’t need to. Were you blind to his affections? Did you make any attempt to dissuade him?”

Lady Ondine’s eyes narrowed at me, and she scowled. “What do you know of such things? Your metal heart can hardly perceive them, yet now you presume to lecture me.”

“Not at all,” I said. “But perhaps you could explain to me your strategy. Tell me where to aim each of these and their effects so that you might attend to more important matters within the castle.”

“You blasted chamberpot,” she said. But she handed me the sling and gave me a short explanation. Some would explode in flames, others were caustic acid, and one was a sticky fluid that would hold the attackers still. After her answer, I watched her go back inside.

When they got close enough, I followed her instructions to the letter. I started with the sticky fluid to keep them from running, used the acid to dissolve the ones with armor, then set fire to their wagons and siege weapons. I can’t say how many I killed. At least fifty, I would think. Lord Kelvan, from his place high above, rained green fire and dark energy upon them, killing far more.

But behind the ones who fell, there were always more to take their place. That was the might of Celestra in those days. Her devoted were endless in number. Soon I was out of flasks, and Lord Kelvan was low on mana. He retreated into the castle to meditate.

They arrived at the gates with a battering ram.

I wondered if I should retreat as well. But I knew that each moment I delayed them would buy Lord Kelvan more time to recover. Though he was one and they were many, I doubted any individual crusader would be a match for him. If I could buy him time, perhaps that would be enough to tip the scales.

I took my polearm in hand and jumped over the battlements.

There was confusion at first as I landed next to the lead group of crusaders and began to cut them down. It was hard to move through the bodies of those who had already fallen. Once they realized who I was and what I was doing, more of their brothers and sisters charged forward to meet me in combat. It was chaos.

I do not wish to brag, so I will only say they did not fare well in our test of arms. I have waited centuries for someone to best me in single combat. By now, I’m convinced there’s no one still living who could. Indeed, none of those crusaders, eager and devoted servants of Celestra, had a chance.

Until I felt a chain of light wrap around my legs, and I tripped, falling to my knees. I kept stabbing at the crusaders closest to me. Some still tried to fight until an armored woman shouted, “Stay your weapons. Walk around him, you louts!”

“Yes, Divine!” the louts shouted back to her.

She approached me but stayed carefully out of reach of my polearm. She kneeled and said a prayer to Celestra. Another chain of light appeared, this one binding my wrists together, and I dropped my weapon into the dirt.

She lifted her visor and smiled. “Who are you, I wonder?” she asked. Her eyes focused and dilated as if looking through me, and then she shook her head. “No matter. You’re not who we’re here for, construct. Does one such as you even know the meaning of sin?”

“I do,” I said. “I know it perfectly well.”

She shook her head then motioned to the other crusaders. “Move the battering ram into position. Just stay away from this one. He won’t trouble us further.”

Sadly, she had found my one and only weakness—my extremely limited reach.

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Gideon looked over at Marcus. The man had finished smoking his pipe and was staring into space, listening as Clonk told the story. Similarly, the rest of the audience’s attention was all focused on the knight. Gradually, the light had left the sky, and the courtyard was almost dark except for the lights on the tables and the stage.

Clonk continued to describe how the crusaders avoided him and broke through the gate. “As you can see, it still lies unrepaired,” he said, and a few guests chuckled. “Sadly, my part of the story has a few holes in it. But perhaps…” He looked around, turning his helm left and right. “Grimsby, why don’t you come up here and help fill in some of the details?”

Gideon looked around, but Grimsby was nowhere to be seen. Gideon had been so enraptured by Clonk’s story he hadn’t even noticed the skeleton leave. Perhaps the story hit too close to home. Especially the fact that Grimsby had been planning to leave the castle that day before everything had fallen apart. Not to mention the part about Ondine. Gideon would need to talk to him later.

“Oh, he left,” Clonk said. “I’m sure that’s unrelated to everything I just told you. Anyway, where was I…”

“Fucking hell,” Marcus said, stepping forward.

“What’s wrong?” Gideon asked before he turned his eyes towards the gate. As he looked out into the darkness, he shivered.

Eight glowing red eyes hovered above the gatehouse. Two of them were large, like red moons, surrounded by the other six. Though her body was shrouded by darkness, Gideon felt his heart pound. This was her. It had to be.

The spider broodmother.

A voice reverberated throughout the courtyard, a rasping sound that seemed to come from everywhere. A limb extended towards the light. Its tip, a sharpened point like a lance, gestured towards where Clonk stood on stage. “Did you think you could deny my children their food forever, you foolish knight? They hunger for their feast!”

As the audience turned to look, many began to scream. Some stood up from their chairs and ran while others sat in place, petrified by fear.

Caelan Whitfield, however, turned to Gideon and gave a thumbs up. Gideon could only stare back at him.

“What a show!” Caelan shouted, clapping his hands together as an army of smaller spiders began to flow over the castle walls and climb down into the courtyard. “Now this is what we paid for!”

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