The Silver Fortress

Chapter 1

Dear Diary,

It's me again. I mean, you obviously know it's me, who else would it be? I think it's a Tuesday, but at this point I have absolutely no idea, my days are all jumbled. I think that I have found a perfect way to sneak out, and this time, I think it will really work. There's that lame ball in the next few days, and I have been planning the perfect escape for weeks now. I even managed to get the perfect clothes for it, and I think I'll be able to sneak out undetected. The only problem is that I don't exactly know what I'll do once I escape, but that's something to figure out once I actually manage to get out of here. I'll write soon.

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I groaned in frustration as I slid the book under my mattress and turned to face the window. The storm outside had cast a thick shadow of darkness over the castle, but it was just to my liking. The wind whipping against the glass, and the rain droplets that pelted the exterior walls bought me peace and comfort, nothing was better than curling up in a corner of the library, and that was just where I had planned to go.

I held my ear against the french doors of my bedroom, attempting to make out any noise in the hallways. Once I had deemed it safe, I ducked out of my room and quickly made my way over to the library. It wasn't hard, as it was just down the hall from my living quarters. I once again thanked myself for picking this room when I had the chance.

It's not that my family was toxic or I didn't feel safe, I just preferred to be alone and avoid confrontation at all costs. I found peace that way, and I had ever since I was younger. I hadn't had the best relationship with my father ever since my mother had passed, but it was more so out of discomfort and fear of saying or doing the wrong thing. My mother had died in an attack a few years back, and we had never caught the killer.

Despite all the work that our troops and best warriors had put into finding the culprit, we had never succeeded. The thing was, I knew who the killer was, but nobody would listen to me, because as they claimed, a little girl doesn't know anything.

The truth is, I was near my mother's wing when it happened. Another reason I chose the bedroom that I did was because it was on the same floor as my mother, and she was always my favourite and closest companion. The night it happened, I was in the library when I heard a strangled array of voices in my mother's living quarters.

I enjoyed my room and the location in the castle, because I was near her, but on that night, I would have rather been anywhere but there.

The screams I heard would haunt me for the rest of my life, and no one else would ever understand how it felt because no one else was there to hear the screams, or see the horrific sight that welcomed who ever dared to look into the bedroom. That was until about fifty soldiers and guards rushed down the hall, and I had to duck back into the library to avoid being trampled.

The cries that I had heard the next moment told me all that I needed to know. My father had found her body.

What they didn't know was that I had seen the face of my mother's killer, as I crouched behind a statue while I feared for my life. I had always been criticized by my parents for my fondness of overhearing and spying on various conversations, but this time it payed off. Over the years I had learned the best spots throughout the whole castle to observe different rooms and angles, so I slid into the closest spot to the library, a small alcove that was hidden behind a large statue.

The thunder of footsteps and loud voices had spooked the intruder, and as he quickly turned in my direction looking for an escape route, I got a quick glimpse of his face. Although it was a quick glance, and my vision was compromised by the darkness of the night along with the hood of my cloak that loomed over my head, I was able to make out the face. The face that would forever haunt my life. The face that I wanted to never again see, but saw in my head almost every day since then. The face that I had vowed since that night to find, and kill it's bearer in the most brutal way possible. The face that changed my life.

When he emerged from the room, the moonlight fell perfectly on him, highlighting every aspect of his figure, allowing me to get a decent look before he fled. The way he peered around the hall, the way his mere presence could scare someone, and the way he was covered in blood. That was the most frightening part, all the blood.

Since then, I had memorized every single detail of my mother's killer. He had light brown hair. A large birthmark by his nose. A scar that trailed from under his left brow down to his chin. The blue eyes, like the color of the ocean. The dagger smeared with crimson coloured liquid, that had a rose on the handle. But perhaps the most memorable thing about him was his laugh.

The laugh that left his body as he vanished through the second story window at the end of the hall. It rang through the hall, and I swear it felt like the whole world had died, and all the happiness along with it.

I thought about that night a lot, and I often had nightmares about it. I still couldn't go into the room, because though the entirety of the room had been cleaned, I could never see it without the blood splatters that engulfed the room.

A soft sound interrupted my thoughts, and I peered down to see a small pool of tears dampening the pages of my book. I looked up at the clock, and did a double take once I saw the time. I had been sitting for around an hour, but I had only gotten a few pages into the book. Sometimes I didn't realize when I started to think about that night, until I snapped out of the trance.