On my way to hell

chapter 1

Christopher Barone

I never imagined that watching someone run could feel so enchanting.

One magical night, while out for a solitary horseback ride, I witnessed a sight that would forever be etched in my mind. Under the pale, silvery glow of the moon, I saw her—a woman, no taller than five feet, sprinting through the forest as if fleeing from some unseen force.

Her movements were fluid, almost unreal, like she was part of the night itself. The towering trees, ancient and foreboding, seemed to bow and part for her, as though they knew her passage was sacred. It was as if I had stepped into a dream, where reality blurred with fantasy, and I could only watch in awe as the trees swayed open like the Red Sea, allowing her to slip through the darkened forest.

The snow beneath her feet, pristine and untouched, exploded into flurries as she ran, her long, flowing dress trailing behind her. It was a dark, midnight blue, studded with shimmering flecks that caught the moonlight, making her appear like a phantom of the night sky. The fabric swirled around her like a living thing, blending with the shadows and stars, making her form elusive. For a moment, it was as if she wasn't running at all—just gliding through the air, weightless and otherworldly.

Her platinum hair, cascading in thick waves down her back, was a dazzling contrast to the dark world around her. It sparkled beneath the soft moonlight, flowing like liquid silver, riding the wind in a dance of its own. The strands billowed out behind her, moving as if possessed by the very air she ran through. I was utterly transfixed by the way it shimmered and rippled, a hypnotic vision that seemed to carry with it an air of mystery and grace. I could have watched her forever, spellbound by her elegance and speed.

But before I even realized it, she had disappeared—slipping silently to the other side of the forest, swallowed whole by the shadows. Her footprints, the only evidence of her passing, vanished without a trace, as if they had dissolved into the snow, leaving no sign she had ever been there.

As the shock slowly ebbed through me, I felt an odd emptiness where she had once been. I realized then that I had no idea who this mysterious woman was, or why she had been running. The night seemed to close in around me, the trees returning to their normal, unmoving state. The hour was late, and with a heavy heart and an unsettled mind, I turned my horse back toward the distant castle, wondering if what I had seen was real—or just a fleeting figment of the night.

By the time I reached my home, the sky had fully transitioned into a deep indigo, stars scattered like silver dust across the heavens. The moon hung high above, casting a pale glow over the gigantic castle before me. Its towering spires stretched into the night, each one adorned with intricate carvings of ancient gods and goddesses. In the moonlight, their faces appeared almost lifelike, their features softened by shadows that danced across the stone. The walls were covered in beautifully sculpted vines and flowers, their details barely visible in the dim light but still recognizable. The flowers, though muted by the dark, held their symbolic meanings: soft baby pinks for hope, cherry reds for victory, and deep purples for divine connection—all whispered of the kingdom's past glories and the protection it provided for its people.

The castle stood proudly atop the three levels of the kingdom, its height only magnified by the night. From this vantage point, I could see the faint glow of lanterns from the lower levels—small, twinkling lights scattered across the dark landscape, like embers from a fire. The first level, home to the common folk, was still awake, with soft murmurs of conversations drifting upwards. The second level, where the nobles lived, was quieter, their stone fortresses illuminated by fewer lights, standing like silent sentinels beneath the castle. And finally, the royal level, where I now stood, was serene, bathed in the ethereal light of the moon.

The cool night air brushed against my skin, bringing with it the scent of night-blooming jasmine from the castle gardens and a faint hint of incense from the temples. It was a tranquil night, almost too peaceful. But the peace was quickly interrupted by the sound of someone approaching.

Rian, one of my most annoying friends, was waiting for me at the gates. His face was half-lit by the torches lining the path, casting an almost mischievous shadow across his features. He waved at me energetically, as if he'd been waiting there for hours.

But my attention was drawn to something far more impressive than Rian. Nyxalith, my loyal dragon, stood in the moonlit courtyard, his massive form casting a long shadow across the ground. In the moonlight, his obsidian-black scales shimmered with a faint silver hue, and his eyes—burning gold like twin suns—watched me as I approached. Nyxalith was a creature of immense power, his presence both terrifying and comforting. Standing at over 20 feet tall, he was a beast of legend, but he could shift his size at will, a gift from the gods themselves.

He bent down as I drew closer, lowering his massive body to the ground so that I could easily mount him. His wings, now folded tightly to his sides, gave off a faint, glowing sheen, reflecting the light of the moon. The hour-long walk to my quarters would be over in moments with Nyxalith at my side. Rian, still grinning, opened his mouth to say something, but I wasn't in the mood for banter. I silenced him with a look, my mind already far from the courtyard.

I climbed onto Nyxalith's back, feeling the comforting warmth of his scales beneath me. With a single powerful beat of his wings, we lifted off into the cool night air. The world below became a blur of shadows and soft lights as we soared over the castle grounds. The gardens, with their labyrinthine paths and ancient statues, passed beneath us, and soon the darkened silhouette of the forest came into view on the horizon.

Nyxalith flew in silence, his great wings cutting through the night air as we glided towards my quarters. The moonlit landscape stretched out beneath us, a patchwork of silver and black. The cool wind rushed past my face, bringing with it the sounds of distant night birds and the rustling of leaves. It was peaceful up here, far from the noise of the castle and the responsibilities that awaited me.

We landed softly in the small courtyard outside my quarters. Nyxalith, now shrinking to a more manageable size, gave me a soft rumble as I dismounted. His glowing eyes followed me as I made my way to my chambers, their warmth a silent reminder of the bond we shared.

Inside, the night seemed even quieter. My quarters were simple but comfortable, with soft candlelight flickering in the corners, casting long shadows across the stone walls. Through the large window, I could see the moon shining brightly, its silver light spilling across the floor. Exhaustion pulled at me, but my mind was occupied by thoughts of her—the mysterious woman who had been appearing in my mind, her face always just out of reach, her presence lingering like a whisper in the night.

As I lay down on my bed, the soft sounds of the night lulled me into sleep. And as the darkness of sleep took hold, I dreamt again of meeting her, knowing that when I did, everything would change.

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