"For what purpose was this castle built?" I asked as I walked down another staircase.

"To house the builders," the rat promptly answered, skulking close to the wall a few steps behind me.

"And by what coin were the builders paid?" I asked.

"By tributes paid to the castle," the rat answered.

"And what glory compelled people to pay the tribute?" I went on.

"The splendor of the castle to be," the rat said, sniffing at a piece of canvs that had fallen from a since long destroyed painting.

"Seems circular," I commented as I emerged in a small chamber, corridors leading in four different directions.

"Power entrenches itself," the rat said with a little shrug that was so human-like I had to blink. "It's just in its nature."

"The people could have refused to pay the tribute," I said.

"But they didn't," the rat answered.

"The builders could have refused the coin," I said.

"But they didn't," the rat answered again.

"And once the castle stood finished?" I asked. "What then?"

"What then?" the rat echoed.

"What happened to the builders once the castle stood ready?" I asked. "Where they cast out?"

"By the time the west tower stood ready, the east tower was in need of repair," the rat answered. "By the time the repairs of the east tower was done, the main floor was in need of renovations. The builders were never idle."

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

"They are no builders here now," I commented, lightly touching a wall, covered by rot.

"There are no builderes here now," the rat echoed.

We walked in silence down a corridor.

"Who cooked the meals in this castle?" I asked eventually, as we walked past a long ruined table.

"The cooks," the rat promptly answered.

"And who butchered the meet?" I asked.

"The butchers," came the immediate answer.

"From where came the cattles?"

"The herds grazed the castled meadows," the rat answered. "Tended by the farmers living on teh castle's property."

"And where are they all now?" I asked with low voice as we walked past a skeleton, lying in a pile on the floor.

"Gone," the rat said with laconic voice.

"There were knights?" I asked. "Brave men on fierce steeds."

"Yes," the rat answered.

"There were ladies? Fair and proud, with flowing gowns."

"Yes."

"There were kings and queens? Fair or greedy, weak or strong?"

"All sorts of monarchs sat on the throne," the rat confirmed.

"All gone?" I almost whispered.

"All gone," the rat confirmed.

"What remains?" I asked. "What remains of all that."

"The beast," the rat answered. "And the bones."

"And the princess," I said with sharp voice.

"Of course," the rat hurridly said.

We entered what had once been a small indoor garden, dead plants ornating flower beds on both sides of the small path laid between them.

"All the power of this place...." I mused. "All the respect it commanded, all the arms it set in motion, just gone..."

"Not entirely;" the rat noted, glancing at me.

"Not entirely," I agreed.

We descended a grand starcase, larger than anything I had previously seen. A five horse carrige could ride up it without having to slow down.

"Who allowed it to happen?" I asked when we got to the first platform, looking directly at the rat. "Who allowed the castle to fall into ruins."

The rat squirmed under my gaze and didn't answer until I repeated the question.

"Power entrenches itself," it muttered and skulked down the staircase.

I followed it, and the moment I sat foot on the floor, I felt a slow, rhymtic vibration. I readied my sword and looked at the rat.

"You better stand back, rat," I said.

"I will, princess," the rat answered. "I would wish you luck, if you believed such things would affect the outcome."

"I hope you get your meal," I said and walked through the rough stone arch connecting the staircase to the main hall, where the dragon resided.