The last two Sundays, I’ve spent my Solo Storytelling Sunday stream playing a wonderful map-making rpg called Lost in the Grey (by Mnemonic). I’ve had a ton of fun with it, and I have gotten quite fond of the story I’ve created through it – to the point where I might turn it into a book eventually. The story isn’t done yet (I hope to finish it this Sunday on my stream) but I still couldn’t resist writing a little piece that could be just a flash fic thing, or could be my opening paras to this book some day. Hope you enjoy it!
I had hoped that the old place would look less intimidating now that I am grown. That the slate-grey walls would look less looming, the towers less imposing, and the shadows not as bottomless as I remembered them. I was wrong.
If anything, the castle where I was raised fills me with a deeper sense of dread now that I understand, in my soul of souls, the wickedness that thrives within it. My mother… I am sure, now, that she will be my death. It seems appropriate, though on the surface nothing is more unnatural than a parent slaying their child. Yet somehow I feel that all my days have built to this, to entering these halls once more, to dragging her with me to the depths.
There was a time when I loved her. Perhaps there was even a time, long ago, when she loved me. I don’t know if that makes what I have left to do easier, or harder. But it is too late to wonder about these things. My path is set, my purpose clear. The blood that she has spilled, the blood that she has refused to spill, is as heavy on my conscience as it is light upon hers. I pull the sword from its sheath, cast my gaze skyward one last time, and enter.