A looming castle sits on a hilltop, dark and ominous against the moonlit night sky. Tall, sharp spires cast long shadows across the land, while the moonlight reflects off the small bits of armor that encrust the battlements.
You take flight, unfurling your majestic wings of flame. From your vantage point, you can see the landscape rapidly change as the wind whips past your feathered body.
You descend, softly as a feather, onto the cool, damp grass at the base of the castle. The blades softly part around your heat, steaming as they curl away from your body. The moonlight provides the only illumination, painting the landscape in shades of black and gray.
You walk up to the closed portcullis, an iron grating that separates the world beyond from the grounds inside. A small door is set into it, just large enough for a person to slip through. You raise your arm, reaching for the iron handle of the door. The cold metal enters your palm, and you grip it tightly. Gripping it tightly, you pull it towards you, and the door swings open.
You walk through the door. On the other side, you find yourself in a cobblestone courtyard. The stones ripple into the distance, lined by a neat, short hedge that surrounds the yard. At the other end of the courtyard, a heavy wooden door lets out a warm yellow light.
You take a step forward, walking along the path as the stones ripple under foot. The hedge hugs against your body, snagging on the remains of your clothes as you pass. The wooden door before you is weathered and old, the paint cracked and peeling. Still, it sits in the threshold of the entrance, firmly secured into the wall on either side. You reach out your hand, and your fingers curl around the cold metal doorknob.
You pull open the door, and find yourself staring into a long, torch-lit hallway. The walls are lined with wooden torches, their flames slightly flickering in a non-existent wind. Still, they cast an eerie light on the scene, painting everything in flickering shadows.
You walk down the hallway, the wooden planks creaking under your feet. Still, you hurry as quickly as you can manage. Something about this place unsettles you, and you want nothing more than to leave this hallway behind. You stop in front of one of the doors, its simple frame hanging on the wall. You push it open, stepping through the doorway as it swings to the side. On the other side, you find yourself in a bedroom.
You walk forward, placing your feet firmly on the ground as you stride towards the wardrobe set into the wall. The floor is cold against your feet, chilling your skin as you hurry forward. You reach out with your hands, wrapping your fingers around the handle of the wardrobe door. You look inside the wardrobe, finding nothing but clothes. The wardrobe is a magnificent piece of craftsmanship, its wooden hangers holding several different garments.
You pull free a long, flowing garment from the rack. It's a silk nightgown, one sleeve white and the other black. The contrast of the colors highlights the garment's beauty, the soft white fading to deep black at the end. You peer into the wardrobe looking for something else, staring at the clothes on their hangers. Every garment is long, flowing and hanging off of a wooden hanger. There's a woolen winter coat at one end of the wardrobe, and a shimmering silver evening gown at the other.
You pull the gown up to your shoulders, feeling the fabric crawl across your bare skin. You shiver as you raise your arms, watching as the silk nightgown enfolds itself around your body. You turn, staring into the mirror. The gown is a deep black, almost seeming to absorb light rather than reflect it. It enfolds itself around your body, clinging to your curves and outlining your form. The dress is tight against your skin, revealing the outline of your legs and torso.
You place your head against the pillow, closing your eyes as you settle into your bed. You yawn, slowly stretching out as you close your eyes, feeling the silk caress your skin.
Written by AIDungon on 05 November 2020