Chapter Thirteen: Shadows Within

 Chapter Thirteen: Shadows Within

The cold air clung to their skin as the group emerged from the Celestial Caves. They didn’t speak much as they stepped into the dead lands beyond. The ground was cracked and dry, stretching into a broken plain of sharp stone and low fog. No stars above, no moon. The only light came from the faint, steady glow of Ariel’s bracelet and Boo’s collar.

Just outside the mouth of the cavern, they made camp. A circle of rocks offered little shelter, and the fire they managed to light was pale and flickering—like everything else in the Shadowlands. They huddled close. Even Kip stayed unusually quiet, staring long into the flames.

Prince Caelum sat with his back to the fire, watching the horizon where Umbric’s castle loomed like a wound against the dark sky. Its towers twisted upward like claws, and the clouds churned above them in slow, unnatural spirals.

"It won’t be long now," he said. "You’ve brought more light than I believed possible—but the next part will be the hardest."

As morning—if it could be called that—crept across the wasteland, they packed up and started the march toward the castle. The terrain shifted beneath them, becoming glassy and slick in places. The towers grew larger with every step, more menacing.

They found a ridge overlooking a portion of the castle wall. Up close, Lord Umbric’s castle was even more grotesque than it had appeared from afar. Massive spires jutted skyward like shattered bones, their surfaces slick with dark grime and writhing tendrils of shadow. The walls were not merely stone but pulsed faintly, as if the fortress itself was alive, breathing in the dim fog that blanketed the land. No torches lit the parapets. No guards stood watch. Yet a feeling of being watched seeped into their bones like a cold poison.

Through the gloom, they spotted a crumbled guard tower built into the outer edge of the fortress—its stone fractured and half-swallowed by creeping vines of darkness.

It was Boo who broke the silence. "So, how are we planning to get into the big creepy nightmare house?"

"Kip narrowed his eyes at the crumbled guard tower nestled along the fortress’s base. "Maybe there's some way in via that guard tunnel," he murmured.

Ariel followed his gaze, studying the crumbling structure. "It’s the best shot we’ve got," she said. "The front gate’s suicide, and we don’t know what waits inside the walls."

Prince Caelum nodded in agreement. "That tower may be broken, but if there’s even a whisper of a passage beneath it, it’s worth the risk."

Thistle stared at the castle beyond, his shoulders tense. "I don’t like this," he admitted. "Everything about that place feels wrong. Cold. Like it’s feeding off the land itself."

He drew a slow breath and clenched his staff tighter. "But we’ve come too far to stop now. Whatever’s waiting in there—we face it together."

They studied the terrain carefully and made their way down the ridge, slipping through thorny underbrush and ducking under fallen stone arches. Shadow creatures floated through the air every so often—twisted, smoky forms that hovered silently above the ground, drifting with eerie purpose. Each time one passed by, the temperature dropped sharply, and the ground beneath their feet seemed to tremble slightly.

"Stay out of their sight," Ariel whispered, crouching low behind a slab of cracked stone. "I don’t know what they are, but I have a feeling they report back to Lord Umbric."

Every time a shadow glided overhead, a fresh wave of dread swept through the group. The closer they crept to the castle, the heavier the air became, as if even hope struggled to survive here.

After nearly an hour of silent movement through the ruin-laced outskirts of the castle wall, they made it to the crumbling guard tower. 

There wasn’t much to see in the guard tower—large shards of stone had crumbled to the ground, moss clinging to cracked walls. But as the group peered through a narrow, soot-blackened window, they saw that one of the larger stone blocks had crashed through the floor.

Prince Caelum climbed through the window first, agile despite his age and burden. He reached down and helped the others in. The inside of the tower was silent and cold, the dust thick and undisturbed.

The group carefully approached the shattered floor where the stone had punched through. Beneath it, a dark opening revealed a narrow tunnel lined with decaying brickwork and rusted metal grates. A foul stench rolled out to meet them—damp, metallic, and ancient.

"That definitely smells like an old sewer tunnel," Thistle said, covering his nose.

Ariel peered into the dark. "It’s disgusting... but it might just lead us inside."

"Then we follow it," Caelum said. "We have no other way in."

"Sewer it is," Boo muttered, curling her lip.

"Better than knocking on the front door," Caelum said.

With grim resolve, the group ducked inside, disappearing beneath the castle.

"Sneak through a sewer. Of course," Boo grumbled.

Prince Caelum nodded. "It’s as good a plan as we got."

Inside, it was tight and cold, the stone slick with condensation and streaked with grime. But it was the smell that hit them first—an overwhelming mix of mold, rotting iron, and something sulfurous and stomach-turning. Boo gagged audibly.

"It smells like a dead troll crawled in here and forgot to leave," she groaned, tail flicking.

Thistle pressed his sleeve to his nose. "It's like fermented mushroom soup... mixed with dragon breath."

Even Ariel, ever the optimist, coughed and winced. "Please, no one say anything about stepping in anything wet."

Caelum said nothing, but his face was pale, and he looked like he regretted not being made of stone anymore.

They moved slowly, the echo of their footfalls bouncing strangely off the curved walls and rusted grates. The tunnel seemed to close in around them with every step.

Then, without warning, Kip stopped.

"We’re close," he said.

Too close.

A sound rang through the tunnel like a chime.

Then everything went dark.

The glow from Ariel’s bracelet blinked out. Boo’s collar dimmed to nothing. A rush of wind slammed through the corridor.

A flash of light.

A scream.

And then silence.

Ariel opened her eyes to find herself bound in a prison cell of smooth black stone. Her bracelet was gone. Boo was missing. So were Kip, Thistle, and Caelum.

Her breath hitched. She crawled to the bars, trying to find her voice—but another whisper came first.

"You're awake."

From the far corner of the cell block, Advisor Orlow stepped into the faint, flickering light of a dying torch. His face was thin and worn, his robes ragged.

"Orlow! You're here?"

"So are you," he said with a grim nod. "I feared you would be."

Ariel moved to the edge of the cell. "What happened?"

"You were betrayed. Kip led you in. The moment you passed into Umbric’s wards, he activated the trap. He’s been tempted by the shadows for a long time. I tried to warn the Queen... but he was clever."

Ariel swallowed back tears. The pain of betrayal struck deeper than she’d expected.

"I thought he was our friend."

"He might have been," Orlow said. "Once. But this place wears people down. And Umbric promised him power. Belonging.  Without Light and Hope it's hard to turn that down."

Footsteps echoed down the corridor. Heavy. Purposeful.

A figure appeared in the doorway, wreathed in darkness. His cloak billowed though there was no wind.

Lord Umbric.

He stopped before Ariel’s cell. His eyes were pale and cold. "So this is the Starborn child," he said with mild amusement. "The one they think can stop me."

He leaned closer.

"You’ll break like the rest of them."

With a flick of his hand, the torch went out. Darkness swallowed everything.

When Ariel next awoke, her cell was still black, but a dim flicker came from across the corridor. Orlow was whispering something—a lullaby? A prayer?

He turned toward her. "They’ve taken nearly all the light from Starfall. After the next eclipse, there will be nothing left. No joy. No memory. No hope."

Ariel shivered.

But somewhere in the dark, she heard a familiar whisper.

A soft meow.

Boo.

She wasn’t alone after all.

And she would never give up—not now.

Not ever.