Crescent (Book 1)

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"The mantle was crafted over a thousand years ago. They're the only stones left from the original castle." Moira carefully thumbs the bricks of the fireplace.

The stones are warm from the hearth burning wildly beneath it. My eyes wander back over the kitchen, past the swarm of servants baking away for lunch. My stomach growls in response, and I realize just how hungry I am.

We spent most of the morning roaming the halls. To say the castle is beautiful is an understatement. Four levels of gothic stone walls with three towers that reach an additional two stories into the sky. Moira walked me through each, telling me the history as we went. Thresholds are worn with age while others have never seen more than the light of day.

Even in the dead of winter, fragrant blush roses sprinkle credence tables along the hallways. The main hall, traditionally a grand ballroom, isn't the only space that's large beyond belief. There are two libraries; Ceth's larger private library and one that's for anyone's use. Moira tells me they're filled with books that are likely centuries old, but other than our tour of the first two floors, we've yet to see them.

A plump woman crosses the kitchen toward us, interrupting my thoughts. She frowns, all red-faced and obviously flustered from working in the kitchen. "Well? Are you taking lunch in the library? I won't have you just standing, mucking about while yer deciding."

Annoyance makes a quick appearance on Moira's face. She's quick to smooth the growing crease between her brow as she plasters on a smile. "We'll take lunch upstairs on the balcony and be on our way."

"I can only guess you're going to be the one dealing with that mess, right? I don't have the time nor patience to be cleanin' up after everyone all day-"

"It will be taken care of, Janice. Thank you." Moira clips. She must note the moment Janice's attention slides toward me. "This is Lord Shawcross' new..." I watch as Moira struggles for a word. "This is Brenna."

"Brenna," Janice tastes my name. She looks me over with beady eyes, brows rising as she sweeps a wispy strand of tawny hair back into her bun. "I see. And how do you feel about Knot Bloom rye?"

I've never heard of it in my entire life, but from the look on her face, I know better than to say so. "I'm sure I'll love it."

A smile cracks at her mouth, and she claps, grinning at Moira. "Wonderful. I'll serve some with lunch then." Her black heels click as she makes a mad dash back toward the sink.

"Follow me." Moira leads me away from the servants quarters and through the main hall to the grand staircase where we travel to the third floor. Wine colored rugs line the middle of the hall, and at the end of it, we step through the largest door.

A large wooden table spans the space. Its surface is lined with lanterns, quills and inkwells, and thick stacks of stained parchment. Maps of Vervale- scarcely marked with vague legends- are branded into the thick oak surface, and my gaze lingers over it as I take everything in. Half-empty bookshelves sit against the walls, and several other desks surround the room, but my focus finds the double-doors on the furthest side.

A balcony. A bubble of warmth and sunlight settles on the side of the castle, likely protected by magic. Inside it, there's no snow. Ivy vines with blooming yellow flowers crawl across a terrace and a willow tree with thick roots dangles over one edge. Checkered stepping stones cover the ground leading to an arch of greenery nestled above the railing. The garden is beautiful, and beyond the divergence of warmth and frost, a winter storm rages.

My mind leaps at the sight. Escape-

Moira is still talking, wandering throughout the library as her attention trails over the different maps and portraits. "This library is one of the newer additions to the castle. Built over seventy years ago- long after the War of the Risen Realms. Lord Shawcross added it when he took power and-" I want to listen to her story. I want to get answers to the millions of questions that have been building in me since the moment I got here, but the longer I look out toward the balcony, the less I care about anything else. "Wonderful, isn't it?" she's saying again.

I nod absently, taking my eyes off the terrace for a moment to glance back at her. She only smiles and continues on about the epic battles depicted in the pictures above the shelves. I try to listen, I really do, but my eyes drift toward the terrace again.

Moira pauses mid-sentence before walking ahead of me. "Do you want to see the garden?" She draws back the lace curtains guarding the doors.

A jay bird perches on a branch of the willow tree, wings fluttering softly as it hops along, and I half-wonder if the poor bird is trapped within whatever spell is keeping the castle alive. Moira watches silently, eyes dark as she opens the door and the bird startles. It flies to another soft branch, its head tilted toward us in fascination as we step out into the warm air. Just watching- unmoving. For a moment, Moira looks so... Alone. Like that lone bird unable to fly out into the snow. I can only imagine how she must feel in a place like this. I bury the thought, the sympathy, just as quickly as it comes.

"This has always been my favorite part of the castle," she whispers. I stroll toward the arch of ivy overlooking the snow-clad landscape below. I sit on the ledge, peering down at the drop. A cavernous divide lies between the castle and the forest of evergreens on the other side of the bridge. It's as I'm peering out that I notice the ridges carved into the stone walls beneath us. Simple mantles- originally a path for builders as they laid the brickwork. The ridges form a ladder down the side of the castle, disappearing into the snowy depths below. My heart leaps at the sight of them.

If I were to follow them down...

"When did Ceth take power?" I feign interest, twisting toward her. And, what war? I want to ask. But she has probably already gone over the history. I just wasn't listening.

"His father, Nicholas, passed away... six decades ago. Ceth hasn't ruled nearly as long as the other Lords, but..."

"The other lords?" I motion inside, expecting her to finish. Up until a few days ago, I had no idea anything existed beyond the world I'd grown up in. I've learned so much in such little time, but somehow, I feel like I know nothing at all. "There are six?"

Moira follows my gaze inside toward a large map scaling the wall. I missed it coming in, but from here, I can see the six faint outlines. Realms. It isn't like any map I've seen before. At the two polar sides of the map are the mortal realms, and the mass in the middle, surrounded wholly by cerulean blue, is Crescent. "One for each realm. Vervale, Nexus, Osthen, Lushwind. Ireodran... and Glalas."

"H-How...?" I wonder aloud. "How did the mortal realms never know of... all this?"

"Magic. Probably." Her arms wind themselves around her middle as if suddenly cold. "You really never knew about this place growing up?"

"Never."

"If it helps.... I've never been outside Vervale."

"Where is Vervale on the map?" I venture.

She eyes me, squaring her shoulders abruptly as if she's given too much away. "I... I really think we should head inside now. We still have lunch, and I have my duties to attend to." Nevermind that I still have no idea why I'm here. She shuffles off. With one last glance toward the castle walls, I follow. But not without wondering how one might scale castle walls in the dead of night. Maybe that will be my way out.