Echoes From The Past

Six

In the suffocating stillness of my room, the incessant ticking of the clock felt like a taunt, pushing me out into the night in search of clarity. I couldn't just lie there, haunted by the half-truths and mysteries surrounding Nathan and the enigmatic Kensington legacy. Compelled by a mix of desperation and determination, I rose from my bed, deciding to seek answers directly from the source—the Kensington Castle itself. 

I dressed quietly, choosing dark clothes that would merge with the shadows of the night. Before stepping out, I paused at my desk where my grandmother's old magical texts lay scattered. Among the ancient scripts, I found the spell I needed—an incantation for invisibility. Whispering the arcane words, I felt a chill cascade down my spine as the room around me seemed to blur slightly, my reflection vanishing from the mirror.

Cloaked in invisibility, I ventured into the cool night. The castle, a colossal structure of stone and history, loomed ominously against the starlit sky. Its towers pierced the darkness, standing as silent sentinels of centuries-old secrets.

As I stepped quietly through the castle grounds, the moon hung full and resplendent in the ink-black sky, casting its silvery light across the ancient stones. The air felt alive, charged with an ethereal energy that seemed to dance on the edges of my senses, whispering secrets long held by the shadows of Kensington Castle. The moonlight, pure and intense, bathed everything in a ghostly glow, turning the familiar into something otherworldly, magical.

I felt the lunar radiance seep into my skin, and with it, a surge of power that pulsed through my veins like a living thing. It was as if the moon's light was not just illuminating the night but also awakening the dormant strength within me. My dragon powers, inherently connected to the elemental forces, responded to the celestial call of the full moon, stirring deeply within my soul.

The air around me seemed to thrum with potential, the moon's energy amplifying my own. Each step I took was lighter, more assured, as if I was both part of the night and a master over it. The connection to my abilities felt more profound under the glow of the moon, more intuitive and immediate. I was acutely aware of every leaf rustling in the gentle night breeze, every whisper of wind that caressed the tall, ancient trees.

I slipped past the guards with ease, their unsuspecting forms mere shadows flitting by as I made my way towards the grand library—the repository of the castle's history and secrets. Pushing open the heavy wooden doors, I entered a realm of whispered legacies and forgotten tales. The library was vast, its high ceilings supported by dark wooden beams, and shelves laden with leather-bound books stretched into the shadows. Moonlight spilled through the stained glass windows, casting colorful patterns on the stone floors and illuminating a massive portrait of a dragon that dominated one wall. Its scales shimmered with an ethereal glow, reminding me of the dragon powers that coursed through my veins—powers that connected me to this place in ways I was only beginning to understand.

As I wandered among the shelves, my fingers brushed against dusty tomes and ancient manuscripts detailing battles and alliances that shaped the kingdom. My heart raced when I stumbled upon a detailed ledger of the kingdom's military exploits, including vivid accounts of conquered realms and fallen knights whose valor and sacrifices were etched into the kingdom's proud, albeit ruthless, legacy.

The documents revealed a relentless ambition of the Kensington rulers—Queen Alia and King Reginald—and their son, Nathan, who was groomed to perpetuate this legacy as the High Commander of the Royal Knights. Each name of a fallen knight was a stark reminder of the weight of glory and the cost of power.

Amid these historic registers, my eyes caught a list that made my heart skip a beat—a current roster for knight training. And there, written in elegant, flowing script, was my own name. My breath caught in my throat as I traced the letters with my fingertip, a surge of betrayal washing over me. I had never consented to be part of their knightly ranks; I had never even agreed to train for combat beyond basic self-defense. The realization that my name was penned on this list without my knowledge sparked a flurry of questions and fears. Was I being groomed as just another pawn in their grand political games?