Cinders in the Dark

No end in sight

Lucinda was somewhere deep in the bowels of the castle. She hadn't the foggiest where she had been last night when she'd woken up except that she'd had to climb stairs to leave it. So she'd just started with the first staircase off of the main hall. It had been a cramped staircase compared to the rest of them but still massively wide. And of course, no railing. So she'd hugged the wall as she descended, torch in one hand.
  Unfortunately for her, the Maester who'd mapped the place hadn't bothered to go downstairs. Understandable as the black stone walls made it eerily dark even with all of the torches lit. She worked to light any hanging torch she came across but the hallways never seemed to grow any brighter. Occasionally she would disturb a host of bats which would screech en masse as they flew to some other dark corner. Bats didn't bother her, the symbol of her house. She felt a sort of kinsmenship with them. Both of them liked dark undisturbed corners of the world.
   The more she tried to focus on the details of her dream, the more it seemed to slip away. Until at last she was too frustrated to continue. She turned back, following the chalk marks she had made along the way. It was impossible to explore without some way to mark the way back. She'd done a myriad of substances before finding one that didn't sink into the walls. Chalk was powdery enough it didn't immediately absorb into them. But eventually she knew they did. If she visited previously marked hallways, the walls would always be bare after a day or so.
  Reluctantly she climbed back up the stairs, pausing to check the book every now and then. Sometimes the ink she used acted funny when she added to the book. Smearing in such a manner as to make it illegible and forcing her to start over. Now she held the book open for hours before even attempting to close it. She had done her share of remapping and didn't relish having to repeat anything down under the earth. The lack of windows made her feel a bit uncomfortable after a while.
  The stairs seemed to stretch longer on the way back up and she wondered if she had gone further than she thought. Time meant nothing to her down here, there was no way to tell how much had passed. Once she finally emerged back to the ground floor, she could see no light coming in through the windows. If it was dark already, it was late. The summer sun didn't set for ages this time of year. Taking that into account she decided to visit the kitchen before retiring for the night. She should've been exhausted but she was only hungry. Weaving through the long and winding halls, she finally emerged into the kitchen.
   The room was empty, the fire nearly died out when she arrived. Fires never stayed lit here, even with constant stoking. It was too damp, too exposed to hold the heat. She added a bundle of wood before grabbing a bowl of soup and eating quickly there. She threw back a goblet of wine and cleaned up her mess. She glanced around one last time before leaving, making sure nothing was out of order. The first signs of exhaustion were beginning to build behind her eyes as she swayed walking back. The wine was probably a mistake, especially as she had to climb all of those god forsaken stairs before reaching her room. Harren the Black must have been an idiot. Didn't he think about having to climb all these stairs?
   Once in her room, she carefully set the book down on her cluttered desk. It was covered in scattered maps and scrolls. She used to have a few spell ingredients too, but she figured the witch who lived in the tall tower stole them back. She'd only seen her out of the corner of her eyes, always in windows up in the tower. No one else ever seemed to see her and she didn't bother to go visit her. Lucinda had enough to deal with without pissing off a witch. So she didn't disturb any more spell ingredients she found about the castle and nothing else vanished from her room. Whatever the witch knew about the castle wasn't her business, she just wanted to map the place. But there would be more time for that tomorrow.  She stripped off her cloak, dressing down for the night. Then she climbed into her big bed and promptly passed out.
   Lucinda woke to a crackling noise outside of her room. Before she bothered to get up, she looked out the window. It was still dark. Sighing, she flung the covers back before creeping towards her door. She didn't immediately open it, first she lightly touched the door handle. It was as cold as ever. Then she dropped to the floor and peered under the door crack, nothing. Only then after standing, did she crack it open.
  The door across from hers was burning. Flames licked up the door and had spread onto the stone above it, leaving scorch marks. She pulled her own door open all the way now, staring at the burning door. The wood popped and groaned in the sweltering heat but it didn't buckle or give way. She took a step closer and without thinking grabbed the handle thursting the door open. Inside stood the knight, skinless holding his sword. He had no eyes, just smooth muscle stretched across his face where they should have been. His teeth were exposed in a terrible grin. She started screaming then, she fell backwards scraping her hands on the rough stone floor as she scuttled away from the monster. She knocked her head against the back wall and groaned as the flayed man approached. He was still burning and when he opened his mouth, the caw of a crow sounded.