Following behind the boy, the skeleton felt uneasy. The tugging at his soul kept him tethered to this strange place, though everything in him screamed to run. The castle unsettled him deeply, and the boy—too cheerful, too at ease in this realm of death—only made it worse.
As they wandered the corridors, he saw creatures that should have made the boy flinch, yet the child barely blinked. There were ordinary snakes, birds, and other animals, but alongside them lurked far more grotesque things. Skeletons like him, white as snow, some armored and standing tall, others twisted like ancient soldiers from a long-forgotten war. Were these my comrades? he wondered. Then there were those worse—horrific fusions of human and beast, bodies torn and stitched together in a chaotic mix of claws, teeth, and limbs. Creatures designed solely for death, a grotesque mockery of life.
Lost in thought, he was jolted by a bone-chilling howl that echoed through the castle. The sound trembled through his bones, shaking him to the core. The howl came from above, outside, and he recognized the sensation—it was the same feeling he had when he first saw the flying snake.
"Don't be scared, Skelly," the boy said with a reassuring smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "The scary lady says Snakeyi up there is protecting us from..." He paused for a moment as if digging up an unpleasant memory. "From the Hungry Eyes."
The skeleton ignored the boy's childish naming, but the phrase Hungry Eyes stuck in his mind. What were they? And what were they being protected from? More questions swirled, but the worst part was his cursed silence—he had no way to ask. No way to make sense of the strange pull in his soul or to understand who this "scary lady" truly was.
"Come on, Skelly!" The boy tugged at his arm, his excitement building. "I want to show you my favorite place—it's just upstairs."
He followed the boy into a large room filled with books, glowing stones, and strange devices. A tall window stretched from floor to ceiling, with no glass, just an open view to the outside. The room felt lived in, but barely—just a single bed covered in cushions. Whoever had inhabited this place spent more time reading or staring out at the landscape than sleeping.
"The scary lady doesn't let me come in here," the boy whispered with a shiver. "She gets really mad when she finds me in here. But she's busy meeting with someone now, so we can look around."
The skeleton moved toward the window, drawn by the view. But as he stepped forward, his bony foot knocked over a carefully stacked pile of books, sending them clattering to the floor. The boy flinched, quickly raising a finger to his lips. "Shhh! Don't make noise! If she catches us, it'll be bad."
"Last time she caught me," the boy continued in a hushed voice, "she told me she'd rip out my soul and put it in a lizard. She said she'd keep me in a cage and feed me flies for the rest of my days." He shivered again, whether, from cold or fear, the skeleton couldn't tell. "I know she was just joking, but it still scared me."
The skeleton nodded in silent agreement. He didn't want to do anything that would get them to live as lizards, either. Carefully, he approached the window again and peered out at the strange world beyond. Below the castle, the landscape stretched endlessly—dying trees as far as the eye could see, their twisted branches bare and lifeless. He spotted the remnants of houses in the distance, overgrown with moss and vegetation, long abandoned by anything living. It was a place forgotten by time.
Then, faint voices carried on the wind. He scanned the scene below and soon found the source: a group of knights had arrived at the castle gates. They were climbing the crumbling steps, ten or so of them, some appeared to be injured, their armors smeared with blood. Yet they pressed on.
At their head was a young man with long golden hair, flowing in the wind. Even from a distance, the skeleton could see the man's bearing—dignified and determined. He carried himself like a hero from old stories, resolute in the face of danger.
As if sensing the skeleton's gaze, the young man looked up, searching the heights of the castle for whoever was watching him. Instinctively, the skeleton ducked behind the wall, hiding from the knight's sight. His mind raced. Who were these knights, and why had they come? And why, despite everything he had seen, did the sight of them stir something like hope in his hollow chest?