"You've got to be joking." Mirabel gasps.
Not eloquent, but I have to agree with the general statement. Garen's northern castle is a hulking mass of vacant walls and cold empty windows. Nothing about it looks strong or welcoming. It's built into the wall of the canyon, with several levels so that it looks like steps up the rock. The structure is empty, cold and imposing, but also formidable and easily defendable.
"I know it's not... ideal," Garen agrees, "But it's all we have for the moment."
Standing in the bottom of the canyon, looking at the strange castle, that seems like a very bleak observation.
Monika leans forward in her saddle, "Ideal or not, I would certainly like to be out of this weather."
Even in the gorge, the wind is ferocious. All of us quickly spur our mounts forward, carefully picking our way beside the narrow stream of water that runs along the bottom of the canyon. Branon tells me it's been running here for thousands of years.
I've never seen a gate like this one. Not that I've seen overly many, but the massive wrought iron gate is more daunting and simplistic than any of the others. It is the only defense, and through the bars a rounded street lined with empty buildings can be seen. The smooth walls are clearly carved from the bedrock, and from the way it is worn I would imagine it was many hundreds of years ago.
"So... How do we get in?" Branon asks hesitantly. I am glad that he was the one to question Garen, for I was adverse to speaking that particular fear out loud.
Garen frowns, "Father told me that there is a small staff here at all times... they should be expecting me."
As if it had been waiting for just those words, the gate made a sudden thunk, jumping me out of my skin. The heavy black bars rise slowly, creaking as if they haven't moved in a century.
When it stops moving, none of us are brave enough to walk through into the unknown. Luckily, we don't have two. A straight backed figure appears on the other side of the open gateway, a man with long grey hair and a clean shaven face.
"Your highness," He addresses Garen, "We have been waiting ever since we received your last letter. I'm afraid we were not expecting such a large party to be with you..."
The Prince blushes, "Neither was I."
The man makes no response to that, "You should all come in out of the weather."
No one argues. With the motivation of warmth it takes hardly any time at all to get two carriages, one cold servant, two numb Miraclan guards, one frigid Miraclan lady, one chilly Skevetic prince, one frozen Skevetic royal guard, one formerly possessed Skevetic guard, five shivering Torranians, and eleven starving horses.
Inside the strange castle is just as odd as the outside. It's clear that whatever this was, it was far more than just a castle. It was an entire complex, with the outside ring of the structure full of storage space, armories and barracks. This place was made for housing an army.
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Knife of Rebellion: Battles of Eyenwar, Book 1
FantasyAdelina Mystica Bendithio has been overshadowed by her beautiful cousin Mirabel her whole life, until the month of her fifteenth birthday when she is told that she is one of the lucky few claimed by the powerful spirits of Eyenwar. To Adelina, this...