Castle white, safe and bright
Within the dream, an awful fight.
Golden, sunless rays of light streamed through the venerable old hands of the magnolia tree, glowed through a crown of white pink-tinged petals and beyond, falling through elegant diamond-paned glass upon a lengthy table of fine, polished wood, and a rich blue carpet. The dining room was quiet and white-walled and long, and two figures sat at the end of it, before a hearty fire dancing in the huge stone hearth.
Magnolia sat on the floor, on a blue velvet cushion taken from one of the chairs, staring up with eager grey eyes at the man seated comfortably before her, a small book open on his lap.
The book that Requar was reading from was a journal, written by himself, of a time two decades past when he had been working in the coastal city of Sunsee as a healer.
One day, he had visited an orphanage there, and encountered a strange, yet innocent infant that scared everyone.
A little boy with eyes the colour of quicksilver.
A boy who brought Winter with him, wherever he went.
The journal was a meticulous record of Requar’s life caring for the boy – who was named Ferrian – of his ineffectual attempts to discover the cause of the magical affliction, or its cure, and his anxiety over trying to keep the boy a secret, lest he be murdered by superstitious neighbours.
Magnolia was rapt, and listened to every word, munching on more of the walnut-crusted biscuits. She asked questions, and Requar answered them, and sometimes laughed a little, but increasingly he began to look glum again, and his blue eyes glittered and glazed as he read his own handwriting on the pages, and his voice trailed away, as though forgetting that he was supposed to be reading aloud.
Magnolia felt guilty that the book was making him sad, but she also desperately wanted to know what happened.
She HAD to know what became of the Winter Boy!
Requar had gotten to a part where he was sitting with the baby on some rocks on a beach, describing the waves churning restlessly and the grey sky brooding overhead as the wind picked up, and his desolate thoughts of a hopeless future, which seemed lost and scattered in the chaotic white spray, when he suddenly fell silent, mid-sentence.
This time, however, his eyes were not distant, but sharp. He looked up at the windows.
Magnolia turned to look as well.
Light no longer streamed through them, as it usually did. Grey shadows filled the room, and there was a faint distant murmur, like wind slipping stealthily among the uppermost towers. The white flowers on the magnolia tree stirred in agitation; its branches tapped and scratched at the window glass, as though begging to be let in.
There was a strange, tense feeling in the air.
Like that of an approaching storm…
Requar closed the book, very slowly. I must go and check on something, he told the girl. Stay here. I will only be a moment. Giving her a reassuring smile, he got up, placed the journal carefully on his chair, then walked towards the dining room door.
Something about the soft, calm tone of his voice and his deliberate movements scared her.
Reaching the door, Requar stood beside it for a long moment, listening. Then he took hold of the handle, turned it, and peered out.
Another long moment passed. Magnolia watched the white-haired man slip through the door and close it quietly behind him.
The fire flickered in the silence, and the gloom became deeper. The wind gusted more strongly against the windows.
Magnolia fidgeted anxiously with the tassels on her cushion. He said he would only be a moment.
She waited.
He did not return.
She waited some more. She tried to nibble on a biscuit to quell her rising fear, but no longer had an appetite for it, so put it back on the plate, which sat on the floor in front of her. Picking up the book from Requar’s armchair, she tried to continue reading it, but his handwriting was so beautiful and cursive that she could barely understand it, so she put that down, as well.
The room had become much darker, and much colder, now. Freezing, in fact. She hugged herself.
Still, Requar did not return.
Magnolia could no longer stand to sit there. Despite the fire beside her, she felt chilled. Getting up from the armchair she was huddled in, she made her way towards the door.
The magnolia tree thrashed. Huge petals swirled around it, torn to and fro by the wind.
She came to the door.
Something about the ornate gilded handle seemed fateful.
Turning, she looked back at the fire at the opposite end of the room, at the cosy armchairs and cushions and biscuits and milk and books arranged around it in an idyllic halo of perfection.
Tears came to her eyes. She could run back there right now, wrap herself up in a blanket and pretend that Requar WAS going to come back a moment later, and that everything would be fine.
But she knew, in her heart, that he was not.
The door beside her seeped coldness.
An awful, deathly coldness…
Magnolia took hold of the handle and slowly opened it.
She walked out into the foyer, and immediately saw the reason for the unnatural chill.
The entire entrance hall was encased in ice. The floor, the walls, the staircase, the furniture: everything glimmered with it. Huge icicles hung from the vaulted ceiling and chandelier. The massive circular stained-glass sunrise above the doors was frosted over.
Requar stood in the middle of the room, with his back to the girl. His long white braid hung down over his blue cloak. He was very still.
Magnolia took a tentative step forward. Mister Requar?
At the sound of her voice, he turned towards her, with terrible slowness…
Magnolia, he whispered, his voice broken, and the look he gave her was one of utmost despair. Silver lines of tears traced his face. His hand was pressed against his chest.
I am… s-sorry…
Removing his hand, he looked down at his long, pale fingers, which were coated with blood.
His eyes dimmed, the light fading from them like a spent candle. He swayed, his legs folded up beneath him, and he collapsed onto the icy marble floor.
With a cry, Magnolia rushed to his side. Seizing his shoulder, she shook him. Mister Requar! When he did not respond, she shook him more frantically. MISTER REQUAR!
An horrific dark stain of blood was spreading rapidly through his shirt, leaking onto the floor, where it pooled beneath his outflung arm. Something was wrong with his eyes, too; it was as though they had been scorched. More blood trickled down his face.
His body had become semi-transparent, as before; his form leaking away into white mist at the edges.
Magnolia began to sob with horror.
At that moment, with shocking suddenness, the main doors of the castle exploded inwards, sending wooden shards flying in all directions. A shudder and ominous groan passed through the entire building. Wind and snow roared into the room like a hurricane, and in the middle of it all…
A slender black figure in shining, sinister armour…
Magnolia got to her feet, tears of grief and rage snatched away by the wind. WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO HIM?!
The demon-lady stopped a few paces away, cocking her head to one side. Putting a black-armoured hand to her chest, her cold eyes widening in mock innocence, she replied: Me? Giggling horribly, she gestured at the fallen man. I have done nothing! He did this to himself!
She burst out laughing, as though it were the funniest thing she had ever seen.
Magnolia’s hands were balled into fists. I DON’T BELIEVE YOU!
Smiling, the demon-lady sauntered towards her. Believe whatever you like. You’re just a silly child.
Something in Magnolia snapped. This… MONSTER had destroyed her dream. It had ruined her happiness, it had killed someone who had shown her kindness and love and care, for no reason whatsoever. Requar had given her biscuits and stories and warmth, and tried to protect her, and this… THING was ripping his castle apart and ripping up everything that Magnolia cared about… and it dared call her A SILLY CHILD??
With a scream, Magnolia ran around Requar’s body and charged through the whirling snow at the demon-lady.
Without looking at her, the demon made a movement with her hand, as though brushing something aside. A powerful gust of wind snatched the girl up and flung her the length of the hall. She hit the floor hard, sliding along it several yards before coming to rest at the foot of the staircase.
Dazed, Magnolia lifted her head to see the demon-lady kneel beside Requar’s body.
Very clever, pretty one, she heard the demon say, above the howl of the wind. You thought you could hide the girl within your own memories.
She smiled down at him, eerily. What a shame they were flawed…
She reached out, almost tenderly placing a black hand upon his blood-soaked chest. Then, brutally, she shoved her hand deep into the wound and ripped out a writhing, gleaming black mass, trailing tentacle-like strands and oozing oily liquid onto the floor.
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Magnolia choked to see that it was a heart, still beating even while grotesquely corrupted.
The demon-lady regarded the heart for only a moment, then crushed it in her fist. It dissolved into a puff of inky mist, which the demon inhaled as though savouring a fine fragrance.
Rising to her feet, the demon held a hand out over the body, and spikes burst out of the ruined chest. Curling back on themselves, the razor-sharp points rained down like spears, piercing the body, plunging further down into the marble floor and burrowing into the castle’s foundations.
Requar’s remains collapsed into black mist and disappeared under a morass of seething, worm-like tentacles.
The castle rocked with tremors. Huge pieces of masonry detached themselves from the walls and ceiling, crashing to the floor. Cracks raced across the white flagstones. Tentacles smashed up through the floor, sending more stone flying. The great circular window shattered into a million pieces that fell glittering amongst the raging snow.
The demon turned towards Magnolia, who lay alone on the freezing floor, numb with shock.
You thought he could protect you? the demon sneered. You thought you could hide from ME?
The demon was changing. Her face became entirely black, the liquid armour tightening over the last of her pale skin until it resembled a skull. Her grey eyes flooded with black and vanished into empty holes. Horns shot out of the back of her head, ridged and insect-like, curving like the tails of scorpions. Something like abominable wings wrenched themselves out of her back, rotten and trailing shredded flesh and blood and crimson feathers. The ends of her red hair were on fire, trailing smoke, and her charred garments flapped about her in the gale.
Her voice, when she spoke, no longer resembled anything Human, but instead something shrieking, monstrous and warped.
YOU THOUGHT YOU COULD HIDE FROM ME?!
The sound was so loud that the castle shuddered again, violently. A large portion of the ceiling collapsed with a deafening roar into the foyer, but the demon remained standing, unscathed in the dust and shattered ice and rubble.
Shakily, Magnolia pushed herself to her feet. Desperately, through her sobs and fear, she looked around for something to attack the monster with, but could see nothing except broken stone and shattered wood and shards of blue coloured glass.
The image of what she had done to Requar loomed close in her mind. That was to be her fate, too, if she didn’t do something…
No, she thought, tears streaming down her face, turning instantly to ice. No!
She tried to pick up one of the stones, but her hands were numb and she couldn’t lift it. She felt so weak…
YOU FOOLISH CHILD! the demon raged. YOU CANNOT HIDE! YOU CANNOT RUN FROM ME! NOTHING YOU DO WILL MAKE A DIFFERENCE, BECAUSE I AM A PART OF YOU!
The demon stalked out of the rubble towards her, trailing fire and smoke and blood and fury. Black tentacles swarmed out of the bloody footsteps it left behind. Its fingers had elongated into wicked talons.
YOUR NAME IS CARMINE VANDARIS, it screamed, AND I AM WHAT YOU WILL BECOME!!
All courage abandoned, her blood turned to ice, the girl turned and fled up the stairs.
It’s lying! she thought, crying, tears blinding her vision. It’s lying, it’s lying, it’s lying! This is just a nightmare; it isn’t real! It isn’t…
The castle shook again and part of the balustrade fell away beside her. A large chunk of vaulting smashed into the stairs and narrowly missed her as it tumbled past. The girl stumbled and fell to her knees, weeping. To her horror, she noticed that her hands and yellow dress were insubstantial, misty at the edges.
She was fading away! She was… being forgotten. She was… ceasing… to… exist…?!
Carmine.
It was not the excruciating voice of the demon.
The girl looked up.
A shining figure stood at the top of the staircase, a glorious man made all of light. He stood out like the sun against the decaying gloom of the hall.
The girl stared, frozen and awestruck before realising what she was looking at. Heart surging, eyes widening, she leapt to her feet.
Requar!!
Below, the monster screamed again, so loud that the girl clamped her hands to her ears. Another torrent of masonry rained down around them, and there was a series of tremendous, groaning crashes that momentarily drowned out the demon’s rage and the howl of the wind.
The entire castle was coming down…
The glowing figure of Lord Requar descended the stairs, unhurriedly. With each step of his radiant boots, the white stone around him pieced itself back together, cracks healed, ice melted. The balustrade leapt back into its original stately position. He held in his right hand a magnificent long sword, its blade impossibly silver, edged with light. Two snakes curled up the blade from the hilt.
Both of them were white.
He came level with the girl, and stopped, and looked down at her.
He smiled, and his eyes were pools of dazzling, pure white brilliance. His long hair fell about him in a waterfall of scintillating light.
It will be all right, he told her. His voice echoed, and seemed to come from a distant place, but it was certainly him.
He held out the Sword, then, offering it to her.
The demon screeched. Dark mist and spikes exploded out of it. Oily black liquid poured out of the cracks in the flagstones, flooding the floor. The monster lifted an arm and black tendrils twisted along it, forming into a gigantic blade that surged across the intervening space, quick as lightning.
Requar simply turned his head and looked at it.
The blade stopped an inch from his face, evaporating instantly into harmless smoke that blew away in the wind.
For a timeless moment, nobody moved. Even the wind died away into sudden, breathless stillness. The last few snowflakes drifted solemnly to the floor.
Requar was still holding the Sword out. He turned his resplendent gaze back to the girl. Take it, he urged gently.
She stared up at him, tears quivering in her eyes, and then over at the hideous monster half-crouched in fury in the middle of the hall.
Is that really… me? she whispered.
Requar shook his head. No, he said. That is a twisted abomination, warped by its own despair. Your future is still yours to grasp. No matter how much you may have lost, something will always remain, even if it is the tiniest, most fragile, most insignificant spark. That spark is worth holding on to, worth fighting for. It is the only thing that is. And the monster cannot touch you, unless you let her.
The child named Carmine reached out and took hold of the Sword.
She expected it to feel heavy, but it weighed nothing, yet felt real and solid in her small hands. It was awesomely long, taller than her by some margin, but slender and exquisitely beautiful. Blue gemstones sparkled like stars in the hilt.
It was a sword fit for a Queen, and she felt humbled by its mere presence.
And yet…
She lifted her gaze to the demon below.
To her astonishment, the monster was backing away.
Carmine started down the stairs.
The demon hissed and snarled, but the power seemed to have gone out of its voice. It snatched up a piece of masonry and hurled it at the girl.
Carmine gasped and ducked, but the stone exploded into dust before it hit her. Looking over her shoulder, she saw Requar standing on the stairs with his arm extended.
She gave him a smile.
He nodded in return.
She continued towards the demon. The black sludge coating the floor retreated from the glow of her Sword. Something crashed through the wall to her left, making her jump. But it was not black.
It was grey, and woody. Giant roots unfurled themselves across the floor, over the debris, smothering the black stain. Branches found their way through holes in the ceiling and walls, massive flowers blooming along their length.
Light streamed into the room along with them.
The demon backed away until it could go no further. Tree roots formed a wall behind it, and around it. The thing slashed at them viciously with its black claws, and the wood shrivelled and rotted, but new wood grew instantly in is place. The demon whirled and ripped futilely at the roots and shrieked, desperately seeking a way out, mad with fear and disoriented.
Her own terror now gone, Carmine pitied it.
The roots closed in on the demon, encircling its legs, its waist, its throat, trapping it in place.
It leaked black mist. Its claws dug into the wood, but its poison was not enough to break them.
If you kill me, the demon hissed, its skull-like face glaring hate, you will kill yourself!
The girl hesitated.
The light from the Sword began to dim.
No.
Requar was suddenly there, beside her. He placed a shining hand upon her shoulder. This is the Sword of Healing, he said calmly. It cannot be used for destruction. It can only heal.
Carmine looked up at him.
His eyes were almost too bright to look at, and too bright to look away. Do you trust me? he asked softly.
Their gazes held for an endless moment, the question echoing into eternity.
Finally, Carmine nodded.
NOOOOOOO!! the demon wailed, thrashing and contorting itself within its prison with such anguish that some of its limbs audibly snapped. It howled in agony and despair, its voice now horribly Human…
The girl paled at the sound, but gathered her courage, gripping the Sword tightly with both hands. Taking a final breath, she let it out in a scream of determination, swinging the shining blade as hard as she could…
It sliced with an arc of light through the air, through roots and demon and woman and armour and stone and darkness and dreams…
There was a single, clear note, like that of a silver wind chime.
And then, in a kaleidoscopic rush of colour and light, sound and sensation, the dream imploded.
The first thing she became aware of was the warmth on her skin.
The second, a curious feeling of lightness, as though she had shed a heavy burden in her sleep.
Opening her eyes, slowly, she blinked and squinted in the bright, hot, golden glare.
She was in an unfamiliar place, a… ruined building of some kind? It still bore the tang of charcoal and smoke. Blackened debris surrounded her, and sunlight poured in through collapsed ceiling beams.
A breathtakingly blue sky arched above the ragged gap. She stared up at it in wonder, somehow entranced by its simple beauty, and then her brows creased in confusion.
Where am I?
She looked down at herself, then.
She was kneeling in ash, and clad in the badly scorched remnants of something that might have been a long coat. Beneath that she wore… nothing. By the state of her clothing, she ought to have been charred to the bone, but her skin was pale, smooth and unscarred.
But this was not the most alarming discovery.
Of far more concern, at that moment, was the fact that four feet of glistening silver blade was protruding from the middle of her chest.
She squeezed her eyes closed again, her heart leaping in sudden panic, her breath coming quick, but soon realised the absurdity of the situation.
How could her heart be beating at all with a sword pierced through it?!
Mentally, she examined herself for any hint of pain or injury, carefully testing her limbs and muscles, but found nothing wrong. The sword had weight to it, she could feel it if she shifted; it was most certainly a solid object. But there was no pain, and no blood.
Okay, she thought, trying to calm herself. Okay. Deal with this. Then figure out what the hell is going on…
Opening her eyes, she regarded the sword.
It was very finely made, and polished to a mirror-like shine. She had never seen anything like it before, and would have been impressed if it was in her hand instead of… in her body. She could see her reflection in the blade, and was disturbed to see that her red hair had been singed short.
She frowned. She had no memory of getting into any sort of fight…
Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to put the questions aside, for now. Lifting a finger, she pressed it lightly against the edge of the blade.
It was extremely sharp. She felt it cut into her flesh, but strangely, it did not sting, and left no mark.
Tentatively, she wrapped her whole hand around the blade, then looked at it.
Nothing.
She stared at her hand in astonishment.
A blade that cannot wound??
She looked back at the sword. Nothing else for it, then…
Grabbing the blade with both hands, she pushed it slowly backwards.
She winced as her stomach lurched in protest. Pausing, she fought the urge to vomit, feeling suddenly lightheaded. After a minute, steadying herself, she continued, sliding the sword hand over hand until, at last, it dropped into the rubble behind her.
Gasping a deep, shaky breath, she looked down at her chest, and touched the skin where a mortal wound should have been.
Not even a scar remained.
Taking another breath of relief, she got to her feet and turned.
With a surprised yelp, she dropped into a defensive crouch.
A female Centaur stood a few yards away, just beyond the shaft of light, silent as stone, watching her.
The Centaur’s skin, hide and hair were coal-black, apart from a white stripe on one leg and some blonde strands amongst her braids. She wore a sleeveless tunic, half black, half cobalt-blue, with a round silver badge pinned to it. A mighty silver spear, seemingly made of the same material as the sword, was levelled at her, dazzling where the sunlight hit it.
Her dark eyes were even sharper than her weapon.
The two of them stared at each other for a tense, endless moment.
Carmine did not dare to move, or to breathe. For all she knew, this woman was the one who had impaled her on the sword…
“Carmine Vandaris?” the Centaur whispered finally.
Carmine swallowed. “Y… yes?”
The Centaur’s demeanour changed. A glitter appeared in her eyes, and the point of her spear quivered and sank to the floor. Her shoulders slumped; her head bowed. Something in between a sigh and a sob escaped her lips.
“Thank the Gods!” she gasped. “Thank all of the Gods…”
Carmine was astonished to see the woman shaking, tears rolling down her cheeks.
She was quite certain that she didn’t know this person.
But she recognised the uniform.
“Are you with the Freeroamers?” she asked, and frowned. “Have I… met you before?”
The Centaur looked up at her, and the suspicion was gone from her eyes now, replaced with pity. She looked away into the ruins, seemingly struggling for words. Then, finally, she turned back, lifting her spear and setting the butt of it carefully at her feet. “I am Lieutenant-Commander Raemint,” she said softly, “of the Freeroamers. You do not know me, but I… knew your father.”
Something unpleasant seemed to seep its way out of the sunlit ash beneath Carmine’s bare feet, finding its way into her stomach and twisting it. Slowly, heedless of her immodesty, she rose to her feet, her grey eyes widening. “W… what do you mean, you knew him? Has... has something happened to Captain Sirannor? What’s going on?!”
Raemint did not reply, but merely stared at her. The Centaur took a long, deep breath, and let it out again, very, very slowly.