“Is it too late to turn back?” I asked.
“Afraid so,” Lumo responded.
The oppressive fog filled the crooked cobble path, narrowly lined by the black silhouettes of leafless trees. Lumo walked beside me, Nim’s reins in hand, as we made our way to the twisted metal gate. As soon as we approached the fog, rolling off of lake Vivas in gray billows, Nim had absolutely no interest in venturing forward at her usual speed, wanting nothing more than to turn her nose in the opposite direction. I did not blame her.
Although it was mid-morning, the dense fog made for a muted and soft light, as if stepping into a dream. The mountain wind had stopped, seeming silenced by both fog and tree cover, and the air was filled with a new, more unsettling pressure. All was quiet except for a haunting hum coming from behind the moisture corroded gate, rusted and fragile but still just as oppressive as it towered nearly a carriage high in front of us. It felt as though I was wearing a scarf over my ears and a veil over my eyes, each sense dulled by the thick mist.
Lumo pulled Nim’s lead, urging the suddenly stubborn horse forward, but she did not budge. She was at her limit. With a sigh, Lumo held out his hand as assistance for me to dismount, and I took it gratefully. I turned to look at Nim to find her eyes wild and ears flickering back and forth. She was terrified.
I watched as Lumo moved towards the petrified horse, holding both sides of her neck, head next to hers.
“Quies…” he whispered in her ear, and the horse completely relaxed all at once at the soothing spell. Her alert eyes grew suddenly heavy, half open as she swayed on the cobble. Perhaps the spell worked too well as she seemed to now be asleep in the middle of the path.
Well, I suppose she needed a good rest,” Lumo chuckled, “But unfortunately, it looks like you’ll be on your feet the rest of the way.”
I nodded, giving Nim a gentle pat on the neck. She deserved some peace.
“Will she be okay out here, all by herself?” I asked, looking around the foreboding and lifeless trees around us.
Lumo then reached up, pulling a nearby vine off of one of the trees lining the path. He then quickly and deftly fashioned an impromptu ward, weaving the vine easily in his nimble hands. He then put the ward in Nim’s saddle bag with a pat.
“She’ll be fine,” he smiled.
The rusted gate opened with a shrill, ear-piercing shriek, protesting against the rusted hinges. Even with my hands covering my ears, I still could not escape the awful noise. Lumo looked back with an apologetic smile as he held it open for me to pass.
I was not prepared for what we saw beyond the gate.
The ancient cobblestone, overgrown path turned towards a narrow bridge, crossing over stagnant, mossy water. Just beyond the bridge, I could see just the shadowed yet severe architecture of the Castle behind the dense fog’s imposing veil. My steps were careful and slow behind Lumo, careful to avoid the knotted, moss-eaten tree roots buckling the stone path. The air still held the same discomforting silence other than the low hum before us and the sounds of our breath, making tiny clouds before us.
“What is that noise?” I asked, voice hushed.
“The hum is the castle… It’s the beating wings of the locust,” said Lumo.
Ah.
Locus.
Locust.
How perfect.
“How… quaint,” I shivered, “The Fates really do have a twisted sense of humor.”
Lumo turned to give a teasing smile, his golden mask looking particularly out of place in this dreary setting.
“They line the castle walls, keeping the Queen at her reluctant throne and everyone else at bay, avoiding the dreadful place,” he said.
“Oh, yes - the walls full of screaming insects really add to its charm,” I sighed.
“Perhaps we could go here on a real holiday when things settle down? As you’re such a fan,” Lumo said, turning towards me and walking backwards down the path.
“Were you rolling your eyes just then? I couldn’t tell.”
“No - I was winking actually. It was very charming, believe me,” he teased.
“Ah, a charming wink. Lovely. I will add that to my mental list of Lumo expressions,” I chuckled.
“Oh? You have a list?” he smiled.
I smiled back, shaking my head before looking down to watch my feet. My temporary bout of courage had all but dried up. It was strange to be joking in such a dreadful place. I then looked up, scanning the ashen black trees around us, carving dark wounds in the oppressive mist.
The story of the so-called “Cursed Queen” was known far throughout the entire realm. Each child had known their own rendition of the bard’s song of the sorrowful story. In some versions, it was a conniving queen who became jealous of her beautiful stepdaughter. The evil queen destroyed a beautiful necklace given to the stepdaughter as a gift from a young lover, resulting in the curse.
Another tale told of a beautiful queen in search of her one true love, then when never satisfied of the many courtesans offering their hands, she was cursed with a life of solitude, alone to wither in her own vanity, rotting away in the castle alone.
I was lucky enough to hear the real story - or at least the true bard’s tale, when I was very young. During one of the few trips we had made to the city of Carroway, we had stopped to watch an impromptu show. Upon the crooked wooden stage off the busy alleyway there was a small gathering of villagers, clamoring in excitement. A bard had made his way all the way from the great capital of Solendale and decided to grace Carroway with a show. I took both Mother and Father’s hands in mine and pulled them forward through the crowd, refusing to miss such a spectacle. Limenta begrudgingly followed behind.
I listened in awe as he sang the Lament of Castle Locus, etching the words in my little head, doing all I could to memorize them so that I could write them down as soon as I found chance.
Silver Sweet whisper, the beating of paper wings,
Crisp chiming pale sorrow,
The Cursed Queen tried to parlay with Fate.
The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.
In vain melodies she waits,
For a lover’s return, singing her song of regret.
As young maiden she gambled,
A golden locket promised,
For Eternal beauty fair to see,
Shown brightly upon the entire realm.
She was given gifts by young men across the realm,
Hoping to win favor of her fair hand,
The ancient onyx armor of Halmore,
The golden blade of Galbrand.
She won her lover’s heart,
But foul price she paid,
As when her lover aged,
Her image remained the same.
With locket curse festering unseen,
Her magic grows foul and void,
A purulent bitterness beside,
The Cursed Queen weeps alone.
Another age passes, upon blackened throne,
Hair of crimson grows long and twisted.
No more fair beauty is she,
Prisoner of her own err visage.
Her only companion, the foul insect’s hum,
As she waits without wither,
Ancient heart in haunting drum.
Pity that of the traveler,
Who crosses Castle Locus’ Pass,
Don’t let the bramble fingers catch you,
Or you will stay forever the Cursed Queen’s guest.
Her only companion, the foul insect’s hum.
I should have remembered.
The words were engraved in my memory as clear as the day I scrawled them on the parchment as soon as I got home. The Cursed Queen was said to have the ancient armor of Halmore and the golden sword of Galbrand, each both incredibly powerful and legendary in their own right. Yet here I was, completely unarmed, and joking as I made my way towards her front door.
Perhaps it was my nerves in this dreadful setting causing this madness, but the break from the mountain wind was a relief. But, as soon as we reached the sprawling, block-stoned terrace, I seemed to have lost my humor.
As we walked over the black cobbled rocks, I looked behind to notice we were leaving white footprints, as there was a thick ashen layer covering the ground.
“It’s… it’s the molted insect skin - after ages, this is what it looks like,” Lumo answered, much to my horror.
But the more I looked, the more I seemed to notice. Not only was the ground covered in a thick layer of dead insects and carapaces, but so were the trees, leaving them to have the ashen appearance. I also noticed little shimmering speckles falling slowly through the fog. I caught one in my palm, and much to my growing discomfort, found it to be an opalescent insect wing floating without host through the air like little leaves.
We were close enough now to see the castle’s grand entrance in its entirety despite the fog cover. The humming of the locusts was incredibly loud now, causing my body to unconsciously recoil. The intricately carved front entry was both daunting and impressive, causing me to crane my neck to see the top of the ebony door.
“Are you ready?” Lumo said, half-shouting over the noise, “This will not be pleasant.”
I closed my eyes, clearing my head and slowing my breath.
“I’m ready.”
I watched as Lumo placed both his hands on the darkened wood, pushing both doors open at once. There was a harrowing gust of dusty air that blew against us, sending cloaks rustling with force. I took an anxious step into the dark of the entry, following close behind Lumo.
As soon as the two heavy doors shut behind us with a hollow but triumphant slam, we were assaulted with a sudden and bleak silence. The dark was still, pressing, and incredibly unsettling. No more were we drowned out by the haunting song of the locusts, only silence met us here. We were in what looked like once was a grand foyer, with two expansive rounding stairwells around a large framed portrait, now too soot-covered to make out the subject matter. It was difficult to see everything, as the only source of light came from a large rounded stained glass window high up on the wall behind us.
Suddenly, there was movement on the balcony before us. High up beyond the rail, a shadowed figure was moving, flowing from one side to the other sliding like paint from a brush’s stroke. Lumo held his hand to the side, stopping me in my path.
“Wait,” Lumo said under his breath, turning to me, “A memory.”
I watched as the translucent being made its way across, slowly tracing a trail they had walked eras ago, forever stuck in the same loop. If this is all we were met with, I’m sure we could survive. Residual memories were mostly harmless, only dangerous if one were to interrupt their path. Lumo slowly lowered his hand as soon as the specter was out of view, disappearing through a door without opening it. The ancient castle was probably full of them - it must have been ages since they last had a visitor in this dreary hall. Memories had a way of sticking around when no new ones were made.
Suddenly, Lumo grabbed my hand, pulling me to the side and behind a nearby column. He held a hand gently over my mouth, lightly placing my back to his chest. As his palm touched my lips, if only slightly, I felt a paralyzing chill seize my body to the bone. Before I could protest, face growing hot, I watched as yet another apparition crossed over exactly where I had just been standing. The shadowed, misted form crossed forward though the main entry, then disappeared though an adjacent door.
“Sorry - The longer we can go without the queen noticing us, the better,” whispered Lumo in his low voice, mask brushing against my hair.
I swallowed hard and nodded as Lumo removed his hands from me, stepping aside along the wall. To my surprise he was avoiding my eye contact just as I was avoiding his. I gave a polite nod to ease the tension.
“Which way?” I asked softly, gesturing to the expansive room.
“Follow me, quickly.”
“Have you been here before?” I whispered as I followed him closely up the rounded stairs, careful not to touch the soot-covered rail.
“No, but all these old castles are the same. Here.”
Lumo carefully turned the door handle of where the original apparition came, peeking through the crack before gesturing me inside with a nod. Before us was an expansive ballroom, with high ceilings and a huge ornate chandelier. It must have been quite the sight when in its prime, with huge windows lining the walls, with view over Lake Vivas misty coast on one wall, and the Valencte Mountain range on the other. The floor had a mosaic of tiny tiles, depicting dragons, knights, and other fabled tales, still seen vividly even though the dust.
I took a step forward but Lumo stopped me yet again. This time he only pointed.
At my eyeline, there was movement - a shimmering in the space between me and the farthest wall. A tiny ripple of darkness started to fill the space, small at first, but eventually it grew to envelope the entire hall. The shadows were figures, forming in and out of existence. The figures began to pair up - they were dancing.
I started to smile, watching the memories twirl together in their shadowed forms, until one particular couple came close enough so that I could see their faces. Through the bending of the misty shadow, two sunken and distorted faces stared back at me - eyes hollow and lips disintegrated over the passage of time - haunting masks of death, forever plastering their faces in sickly smiles. The corpse-like figures floated back and forth, before all of their haunting faces stared at us both.
I stifled a scream, holding my hands close over my mouth, trying to slow my breath as my heart caught in my throat. I had seen memories before - but never like this.
Lumo looked back at me, sensing my concern.
“The curse - it’s eating away at them,” he whispered.
There was another swirl of shadows before us, dancers creeping closer and closer to where we stood. More and more of the gaunt diseased faces began to stare at us.
Suddenly, Lumo stepped to my side, before giving a low and dramatic bow before me. He then raised his hand to me in offering. I watched, eyes wide in confusion to a wide smile below his golden mask.
“Care to join me for a dance?”