Arcene: The Blue Castle

by Al K. Line

  "What was she doing down there? And how did she manage to enter our castle so easily? We have safeguards in place to prevent such intrusions. You should see to it that it never happens again."

  "Yes, right away," replied Whip, trying not to shake his head at their outright stupidity. The defenses were nothing to do with him, there were trained men for such work, not that the twins would remember their general's name — they took no notice of anyone unless giving orders, often to the wrong person. Whip pulled himself back from the safety of The Noise, getting a strange glance from Arcene as he rooted himself in reality.

  Was that a smile? Did she wink at him? He was sure she did. She was finding the whole thing amusing, amazed by two imbeciles playing at being rulers.

  "Get her cleaned up Whip, then we shall hear her story. Send her to our quarters when she is presentable. Better yet, bring her yourself. You have been lax in your duties of late. I think you have anyway," said Fionn, his nose scrunching up the way it always did when he thought. "Come brother."

  They moved to leave, but Flynn stopped and turned, causing his brother to copy his actions. "Why is she not scared of us? Why does she not behave in the correct manner?" Flynn stared at Arcene, then at Leel, his insecurities so obvious he may as well have been holding a sign saying, "I am a bit of an idiot, please confuse me."

  "I believe because she is not from around these parts Master Flynn and doesn't know of your greatness."

  "Ah, yes that must be it. She's a strange one isn't she?"

  "Hello? Can You...

  ...see me?" Arcene waved a hand. "I'm right here you know." Arcene had heard enough. Were these two boys that looked like men really in charge of the whole castle?

  She smirked as the one known as Fionn spoke. Greatness indeed, this man Whip was playing with them. He was an odd one too, certainly intelligent, and powerful in The Noise judging by the way he kept sort of zoning in and out of being present. It was like he could make himself invisible but not invisible, as if people somehow forgot he was there, paid him no attention as he faded into the background like a piece of unwanted furniture.

  And what was with the castle? Arcene had been in some strange places in her time, but this place was genuinely odd. Everything was falling apart — she didn't even want to think what would happen if she tried to sit on one of the woodworm-riddled chairs. She could see them through The Noise: tiny blobs of pale yellow eating their way through almost every piece of wood in sight. It was a miracle the place didn't just crumble to dust.

  The rugs on the floor were the same, heck, even the flagstones seemed like they were about to disintegrate. Mortar on walls was loose and every so often she turned her head as another piece of masonry dinged off the cold floor. Glass at the windows was broken or panes were patched, unwashed for centuries if the lack of a view was anything to go by, and even the clothes the people wore were so thin they looked like they would fall off at any moment.

  It was abundantly clear that this was a very closeted community where nothing had come in from the outside for a very long time: they were slowly working their way through whatever was inside when they closed the doors to the outside world for good.

  Arcene stopped her musing as she realized the room had gone deathly silent. What now, did the two odd looking twins — they must be, they were so similar — want her to prostrate herself before them, call them King or do a little dance for them?

  "You, you... what!?" spluttered one of them, she forgot which, staring first at her, then his brother, then Whip, as if it was his fault.

  "Oh, please. What, you never heard somebody talk before?"

  Woof!

  The twins jumped back at the noise, whether Arcene's words or Leel's bark she couldn't be sure.

  Whip burst out laughing before putting his hand to his mouth, actually looking scared.

  "Get her cleaned up Whip, and there will be consequences for your actions," said the other twin, before putting an arm through his brother's. They turned with a haughty rise of the chin and stormed out of the room.

  "Well, they're rather full of it, aren't they?"

  "Haha. You should be careful young lady, they may seem somewhat... ah, um—"

  "Like a pair of dolts?"

  "Hmm, quite. The walls have ears," warned Whip, staring at the door as if a crowd had gathered. "But they are the rightful rulers of the castle and they are rather hot-tempered I am afraid to say."

  "And as daft as my dog, no offense Leel." Arcene scratched her head, pretty sure that Leel was more intelligent than the two identical fools.

  Whip kept quiet, just watched her, smiling and seemingly rather pleased to have her to talk to. It was clear he was not a foolish man, yet there was something about him that gave Arcene a warning deep down in that place inside that told you when things weren't quite right, that you had to be on your guard.

  "Do you still need to get dry, or have you managed it yourself?"

  Ah, so he knows about me? Not surprising, he's Awoken too, and has been for a long time before I was born. But the twins are the same, so how come they are so stupid?

  "Age does not always bring wisdom, you have to want it, work for it. The twins are, shall we say, easily distracted?"

  "Can we throw sticks for them," joked Arcene. "But yes, a warm fire and the chance to dry off would be great. It's freezing in here, don't you have central heating?"

  Whip frowned at her words. "Accentual heating? What is that?"

  "Central heating," corrected Arcene. "I'll tell you while we walk to wherever we're going. But no funny business, I may look scrawny but I'm pretty tough," warned Arcene, although she knew he wouldn't be anything but gracious. She could tell this was a man who fought his battles through mind games, not by getting involved in anything physical himself.

  "I'll lead the way. Is he dangerous?" asked Whip, pointing at Leel.

  "That he is a she, and she is only dangerous if she needs to be."

  Whip nodded and opened the door, checking left then right before ushering Arcene out of the room.

  "Now, about this central heating...?"

  As they walked and talked, their voices sucked up by the thick stone as if saving the sound for later, Arcene tried to explain the wonders of centralized heating systems but got lost the minute she started, realizing she didn't have even a rudimentary idea of how it worked apart from that you could put a boiler at the back of a fire and run pipes from it that led to large metal things called radiators that got hot.

  Whip found the concept fascinating and spoke faster and faster as he led her down one freezing corridor after another. They passed doors hanging off hinges or half-rotted, walked through deserted halls and past strange piles of random stuff Arcene could see no practical use for at all.

  And everywhere people scurried about, involved in one chore or another. Nobody seemed to have been given the job of controlling the dust or the dirt though, that task abandoned long ago.

  This was a place on the verge of collapse even if the inhabitants didn't appear to notice, or maybe they knew and there was nothing they could do about it? If the world at large was closed off then their options would be severely limited.

  Through the twists and turns, the strange rooms and empty halls, Arcene kept smiling, she couldn't help it. What an adventure! What a cool castle to visit, full of oddness and weird people — definitely her kind of place.

  She knew there was a lot more going on though. Beneath the surface was a darkness, a despair and a sense of fear that practically made the damp walls pulse. If only they could talk, the terrible tales they would surely tell.

  One question burned on her tongue and she knew herself well enough to know she would have to ask soon — it was all she could think of, all she could recall when she thought back to standing on the cobbles once they got her out of the well.

  "What happened to everyone?" she blurted, unable to keep her question inside any longer.

  "What happened? What do you mean?" asked Whip, as he stoppe
d in the corridor. "Ah, you mean the rather disfigured people of the castle? Well, let's just say there is a distinct lack of new blood within our walls, so the workers are a little inbred. Shallow gene pool verging on dry I suppose."

  "Er, no, that's not what I meant. I meant why does everyone have an arm or a leg or a hand missing?" Arcene knew she wasn't going to like the answer, but had to ask. Was it down to some type of very dangerous manual work? Were they all miners or did they work with lethal machinery all day? Or were the twins keen on punishment? That wouldn't surprise her in the least.

  "Oh! Yes, that." Whip's face turned dark, mouth angled down in distaste. "You'll see soon enough. You shouldn't have come here you know, this is not a place for someone like you Arcene. Not a place for anyone from the outside," he warned. "But I am glad you did." Whip smiled and placed an arm over Arcene's now dry shoulder. He squeezed it gently.

  It was like being caressed by a happy corpse.

  Arcene held her shudder and smiled innocently at the old man. "Now, about this warm room...?"

  And Relax (a Bit)

  Arcene wasn't exactly body conscious, she was comfortable with the way she looked and for many years she'd never given it a single thought — she didn't have the luxury of thinking beyond survival and hadn't been raised to feel shy or abashed about the human body.

  But as the years went by and she found herself in the company of others, male and female, she slowly recognized things going on both inside and outside.

  Her chest grew a little and it was sore, menstruation began — something she absolutely couldn't see as anything but a serious design flaw, there to make life for girls that little bit harder than it was for boys — and she morphed from a girl that looked like a boy with long hair to a young woman that had the beginnings of an adult female form.

  So it came as quite a surprise when she clasped her hands to her small breasts and sank deep into the water as the door to the quarters Whip had allocated her opened and a hunched woman, who Arcene could see was in her early thirties but looked like an ancient crone, came in with an armful of towels — if the thin material that looked like something she would use to dry Leel with if she got muddy, then throw away, could be called towels.

  The woman was bent almost double, head down, eyes locked on the floor for the most part, but she stole furtive glances when she thought Arcene wasn't looking. Arcene made herself relax after chastising herself for such sudden modesty, letting the redness recede from her neck. What did she have to be ashamed of, whoever came into the room? Had she become shy, or was it that she didn't trust the men she'd met so far? The men, definitely. Arcene may not have thought of herself as the epitome of womanhood, but she knew damn well that compared to the females she had seen so far then she was, without being big-headed, quite a catch.

  Oh dear, fancy me being the best looking with the best figure. Who would have thought it? Arcene cupped her tiny breasts in her hands and stared down at them doubtfully. They'd always just been a bit of an inconvenience, and now they were more so than ever. She shook her head, wet hair dripping over the edge of the steel bath, and frowned at her chest again. Sometimes it was a real pain being a girl.

  Come to think of it, where were the other youngsters? She had seen no one that could be classed as young like her, and there certainly weren't any children. Where were they? Being schooled? Unlikely. Working? Hidden away indoors? Another mystery to be solved, and Arcene had the feeling there were plenty of them at Castle Kenyon.

  Interesting times lay ahead, but for now she was going to enjoy lazing in the bath and hope the sour stink from the rat people was finally washed away. Even after the near-death experience in the tunnel the water had hardly touched the oily residue left on her arms and shoulders from her brief visit with the strange underground tribe.

  "Eh, what was that?" Arcene turned to the woman with the towels, who stared at Leel like she thought she was about to be eaten. At Arcene's voice she lowered her head to the floor once again.

  "Would you like me to dry you ma'am? I'm not sure about the etiquette for the ladies like you. I'm just a humble servant is all I am. Should I put the towels down?"

  "Oh. Um, anywhere is fine. I can dry myself. But thanks for offering," said Arcene. She smiled, hoping to put the woman at ease. "And you don't need to call me ma'am or anything, call me Arcene."

  The woman shuffled over to a low table by the bath and half placed, half dropped the towels with her one arm, fussing about to get them lined up and neat. "Yes ma'am. Um, oops. I mean Arcene." She raised her head and stared in what Arcene was sure was awe at her naked body in the murky water.

  She looks like she's never seen a body before. And what's with the interest?

  "What's your name?"

  "Me ma'am? Arcene," she added hurriedly. "Oh, I'm Margaret, like my mother before me and her mother before that."

  "I bet your daughter is called Margaret too, isn't she?" said Arcene, doing her best not to sound as cheeky as she felt.

  Margaret put a hand to her head. "Wow! How did you know?"

  "Oh, a wild guess is all." Arcene had to stifle a laugh — it wasn't nice to make fun of people just because they were a little slow on the uptake.

  "Ooh. Is there anything else I can do for you? The masters said I was to be very accoma... accomme... er, very, um, helpful. Whatever you want."

  That's a surprise, I assumed all this was down to Whip.

  "No, I'm good, and don't mind her," Arcene pointed at Leel, who had grown bored and was curled up by the roaring fire, fast asleep. "She's a big baby really."

  The woman seemed more interested in the fire now than Leel, and Arcene wondered if this was a luxury that Margaret rarely saw.

  "Do you want to stand by the fire? You can if you want."

  "Oh, really!? Yes please. It's so big, so warm." She moved over to the fire, careful not to disturb Leel, and smiled widely as the flames warmed her.

  "Be my guest," said Arcene, as she stood. The water was grossing her out, a shower was what she needed, not wallowing in her own filth. Water cascaded off flesh like pale marble. Arcene caught Margaret staring at her body and couldn't hep but notice a slight rumble coming from the woman. Come to think of it she was hungry too.

  Arcene grabbed a towel and dried her upper body before stepping out of the bath to dry her legs. Margaret was silent now, with her back turned, lost in whatever thoughts she had, soaking up the warmth while she had the chance.

  Margaret came in and out of the room over the next few hours, along with what Arcene suspected were nosy servants, not having been told to check if she needed anything but taking it upon themselves to find an excuse to come and stare at the strange girl and her pet.

  It became maddening, the women unable to stop staring, drawn to her long limbs, pale and athletic as opposed to their stunted bodies, all with various crucial bits missing. Arcene was amazed any of them survived as long as they had, unless they were much younger than they appeared. She grew increasingly irritated until finally she locked the door and the interruptions slowed once it was clear she would take no more visitors for a while. She shooed Margaret away, telling her she was tired and needed to rest, and that did the trick.

  Arcene realized she really was tired, and lay on the large four-poster bed, coughing as dust billowed from the heavy, damp bedding. It creaked as she moved in a vain attempt to get comfortable — it wouldn't surprise her if the whole thing fell apart, it looked as old as the castle itself.

  Before she knew it she was asleep. The long day had taken its toll, sending her into a deep, disturbed slumber where she dreamed of her son falling to his death from the broken tooth of a giant.

  She awoke with a start to the sounds of hammering, groaned as she rolled over and shouted, "Go away," to whoever was at the door. The noise continued so Arcene got up, feeling grumpy and tired, and moved over to the door. She'd put her boots on when she'd dressed and stared in horror at the muddy marks over the bedding.

  How rude. They ma
y be mad here but I should still have manners.

  The knocks and bangs grew louder and it was then she realized it wasn't coming from the door at all, it was from outside, noise traveling up from far below, the sounds and cries of people reaching the smudged panes of ancient glass, most missing, repaired with what appeared to be ancient animal skin. The window was large, but high, so Arcene dragged over a wooden chest, looked at it with suspicion then pushed it out of the way — it was full of woodworm and she didn't want to risk breaking it by standing on it.

  "Here Leel, there's a good girl. Come and help me see what's happening."

  Leel opened a lazy eye, groaned, then curled up tighter by the fire and went back to sleep.

  "Leel, come on, something is happening and I want to see. Don't be so lazy."

  Leel finally got up and moved over to Arcene and after a slight struggle Arcene finally got her to stand still. She clambered up onto her back and stood so she could stare out of the window.

  She hadn't realized quite how high up they were, and the view of the countryside and the grounds of Castle Kenyon were impressive, although from her vantage point she saw how messy the hill was, not to mention the number of buildings in various states of decay. How did these people cling to life for so long when they appeared to be so utterly incompetent?

  Arcene's attention was drawn to the main courtyard that spread out from the castle doors, a large plaza built out from the hill, steps and walkways leading off it to lower levels and the other open spaces surrounding the castle. It was an impressive setup and would be glorious if well-maintained. She watched groups of men shouting at each other, carrying boards and hammers, banging nails into wood in a rather unorganized manner.

  What were they doing? How did they ever get anything done acting the way they did?