The frozen heart

Chapter 32: When Walls Remember

The next morning, Anne woke to the faint light filtering through a narrow, cracked window, casting pale streaks across the stone walls. She felt disoriented for a moment, her body stiff from the cold, but as the events of the previous day came back to her, the weight of her reality settled in. Kaiden had taken her somewhere far from the palace. Somewhere isolated. And now, she needed to understand where exactly she was.

Slowly, she rose from the bed, her muscles aching slightly as she stretched. The room she had spent the night in was sparsely furnished—a simple wooden bed with a thin mattress, a small table in the corner with a single chair, and a thick layer of dust that covered everything. The stone walls were rough and cold, worn by time and neglect. Thick wooden beams supported the ceiling, and here and there, small cracks let in thin threads of daylight. It was clear this place hadn't been inhabited in years, maybe even decades.

Her breath visible in the cold air, Anne wrapped her arms around herself and cautiously stepped toward the door, her bare feet brushing against the uneven, stone floor. She glanced at the door—it was unlocked, just as it had been the night before—and with a slight push, it creaked open. The hallway beyond was dim and long, lined with more rough stone walls and ancient, rotting tapestries hanging in tatters.

Stepping out, she looked around. The air was thick with the scent of dust and age, mingled with something damp and cold that lingered in her lungs. The silence was deafening. No birds, no wind, nothing but her own breathing echoed back at her.

As she walked, she tried to piece together the layout of this place. It was vast, that much was clear. The corridor stretched endlessly in both directions, and as she moved, she noticed small details—the uneven floor beneath her feet, the faint remnants of faded murals painted on the stone walls, their colors long since worn away.

The further she ventured, the more it became clear. This wasn't just some remote hideaway. It was an abandoned castle. The architecture, though deteriorating, hinted at something grand, something once majestic. Large archways led to rooms that were now mostly empty, their contents having long since decayed or been taken away. One chamber, which might have been a great hall, had a massive, crumbling fireplace at its center. The stones were blackened from old fires, but no warmth had touched them in years. Long-forgotten banners hung from the ceiling, their once proud symbols now indistinguishable from the wear of time.

Anne ran her fingers lightly over one of the walls, feeling the rough texture of the stone beneath her skin. It was cold, so cold that it sent a shiver through her, as if the castle itself had absorbed all the years of abandonment and neglect, trapping the chill deep within its bones.

A spiral staircase caught her eye at the end of the hall, leading upwards into darkness. She hesitated for a moment, unsure if she should venture higher, but curiosity got the better of her. Each step she took echoed faintly in the empty castle, and with each step, the sense of isolation grew. The further she went, the more the air felt heavy, as if the castle was weighed down by its own forgotten history.

At the top of the staircase, she found herself in what might have once been a tower. The room was circular, with narrow slits for windows that barely let in any light. The walls were covered in ivy that had crept in through the cracks, taking over what little space remained. There was an old chair near one of the windows, its wood splintered and fragile, looking as though it might collapse at any moment if touched. Dust danced in the weak streams of sunlight, and Anne wrapped her arms tighter around herself, trying to shake off the chill that clung to her skin.

She stared out through one of the narrow windows, catching a glimpse of the landscape beyond. As far as she could see, there was nothing but a vast, untamed wilderness. Trees stretched out endlessly, their branches swaying faintly in the wind, but there were no signs of life. No villages. No roads. Just emptiness.