Lira's world spun in dizzying circles as the man carried her through the garden. She barely had time to process what was happening before she found herself at the foot of a massive, looming castle. Its towers rose like jagged teeth against the dark sky, and the stone walls seemed to absorb the light, casting everything in a cold, oppressive shadow. The air was thick with an eerie stillness, as though even the wind dared not move here.
The gates of the castle slammed shut with a final, bone-chilling sound, the clang of metal echoing through the courtyard.
Lira's heart pounded in her chest, her breath shallow and panicked. She struggled against the man's grip, but his hold on her was unyielding, as if he'd lifted her without a thought. Her mind raced. Why was he doing this? Why was he carrying her like she was some kind of prisoner? Was this some twisted game?
"Let me go!" she gasped, her voice finally breaking free of the tightness in her throat. She kicked her legs, but he didn't even flinch.
"Quit squirming," he muttered, his tone clipped. "You're not going anywhere."
He pushed through a set of heavy, ornate doors into a dimly lit hallway, the flickering of torchlight casting long shadows across the stone floor. The walls were lined with dark tapestries and strange, unsettling artwork that seemed to stare at her, their eyes following her every movement. She shuddered.
The man didn't slow his pace, his long strides carrying her deeper into the heart of the castle. The silence pressed in on her, suffocating, until finally she couldn't stand it anymore.
"Who are you?" Lira demanded, her voice trembling with a mixture of fear and anger. "What do you want with me? Why are you doing this?"
He didn't respond at first, but his grip on her tightened slightly, and for a moment, she saw something flicker in his eyes—an emotion she couldn't place. It was almost... regret? But it vanished as quickly as it had appeared.
"Call me Caelan," he said, his voice dark, as if saying his name was a burden. "And you're not leaving until I figure out what you've done."
Lira's stomach churned. "What I've done? I didn't do anything!" She tried to push herself off his shoulder, but it was like trying to move a mountain. Her limbs felt heavy and uncoordinated, like the air itself was dragging her down. "Please, just let me go!"
Caelan's steps faltered for a moment, but he didn't slow down. "I can't. You're the last thing I need to worry about."
His words were a riddle, a puzzle she couldn't understand. What was he talking about? What could she have possibly done to make him act like this?
He reached a large, imposing door and kicked it open with a loud crack. The room beyond was even darker than the hallway, but as soon as they stepped inside, she felt the weight of something else. A strange, unnerving pull in the air, as if the walls themselves were watching.
Caelan dumped her onto the floor, and Lira barely had time to brace herself before she landed hard on the cold stone. She gasped, pushing herself up onto her elbows, but he was already standing over her, looking down at her with a mixture of wariness and something else she couldn't quite place.
"What is this place?" she demanded, scrambling back, eyes wide. "What do you want from me?"
He didn't answer right away. Instead, he took a few steps back and pulled off his cloak, revealing a tall, lean frame covered in dark clothing. He stood there for a moment, as if weighing something in his mind, before finally speaking, his voice low and gravelly.
"This place... this castle," he said, his eyes narrowing, "was built on a lie. And you're the key to breaking it."
Lira blinked, confusion washing over her. "What? I don't understand—"
"You don't need to understand," he interrupted, his voice sharp. "You just need to stay here. Stay out of my way."
The words hit her like a slap. "Stay out of your way?" She scrambled to her feet, pushing her hair out of her face, adrenaline flooding her system. "You're not making any sense. I don't belong here. I don't even know where here *is*!"
For a moment, Caelan said nothing, his expression unreadable. Then, his gaze shifted, almost like he was seeing something far beyond her, something that only he could understand.
"Of course you don't," he muttered to himself, more to the room than to her. "You don't know what you are."
Lira's heart skipped a beat. "What I am? What the hell are you talking about?"
Suddenly, he grabbed her arm with an unexpected force, pulling her toward the center of the room. The touch sent a jolt of warmth through her, and for a split second, she felt a strange connection to the walls, the air itself. It was like something in her had clicked into place, and a hum of energy coursed through her fingertips.
But before she could react, Caelan pulled away, his grip tightening on her wrist. "Don't," he hissed. "Don't touch anything."
Her head spun, and she tried to wrench herself free, but his grip was unbreakable.
"I *need* you to understand," he continued, his voice shaking with an emotion she couldn't place. "Your touch... you're changing things."
The weight of his words sank in, and Lira's breath caught in her throat. "What are you talking about? What's happening to me?"
He ran a hand through his dark hair, visibly frustrated. "I don't know. But I do know one thing: you're the reason everything here is alive again. The garden, the castle—it's all because of you."
Lira's mind raced, and for the first time since she'd entered the garden, she felt a spark of realization. The way the roses had bloomed when she touched him, the way the castle had seemed to come alive when she entered it... it was her. She was the one causing all of this.
"Wait," she whispered, dread settling in. "What are you going to do with me?"
He didn't answer immediately, his gaze drifting toward the far corner of the room, where an ancient-looking door stood ajar, the faintest hint of movement visible beyond it.
Suddenly, the soft whisper she had heard earlier—the one that had made her blood run cold—returned.
"She's here."
Caelan's eyes locked onto hers with a kind of intensity that made her feel like prey. "You shouldn't have come," he said, his voice low. "Now there's no way out."
Before she could even ask what he meant, the door creaked open, and something—someone—stepped into the room.
The room darkened as Caelan reached into his cloak, pulling out a sleek, black snake with golden eyes that glimmered faintly in the dim light. At first, Lira recoiled, but then the snake uncoiled, lifting its head to look directly at her.
"Relax, darling," the snake said in a sharp, sarcastic voice. "I don't bite. Unless I have to."
Lira froze, her eyes widening. "It... talks?"
"Of course, I talk," it replied, rolling its golden eyes. "I'm Eryss. Think of me as your guide—or babysitter, depending on how much trouble you plan on causing."
"She'll keep you alive," Caelan said bluntly, stepping back toward the door. "Listen to her. Or don't. It's your funeral."
"Alive?" Lira demanded, panic rising in her voice. "What do you mean—"
But Caelan was already gone, the heavy door creaking shut behind him. Left in the silence, Lira looked at the snake now coiled around her wrist, warm and oddly comforting.
"Don't worry," Eryss said with a smirk in her voice. "We'll have so much fun together."
And somewhere deep in the castle, a whisper echoed, chilling and cruel.
"She belongs to us now."