The Dragon's Keep

Once upon a time in a far away land, hidden deep within a snowy forest, sat an old castle, dark and grey. As long as anyone could remember it had been at peace, standing in it's cold solitude without visitors. The stories told about sky-high walls surrounding a treacherous labyrinth where vicious beasts and traps guarded the central tower. A few stories claimed that there was a magnificent treasure on the top of the tower, but the howl of the mysterious beasts kept all visitors away, and the stories were never proven right or wrong.

Till one day came a knight, riding his white steed to a small and quiet village, asking about the castle. The villagers told him what they knew, but had agreed to do this only after the knight had revealed the source of his curiosity. He told them that the castle was in fact a dragon's keep, filled with riches the kind no one had ever seen -and a fair maiden, trapped by the dragon long ago, forced to stay all eternity in her cage. This was his quest, to free the maiden and all the land from the cold grip of the dragon.

The villagers took the news quite calmly, but refused to offer any help. This suited the knight fine, for a knight on a quest can only ask for a place to stay for the night, all other help is prohibited. So the next morning he rode off towards the forest, with only his sword and shield to accompany him.

An eerie silence hung over the snow-glad forest. No living creature could be seen, nothing broke the frozen stillness except the small clouds of powder snow the horse lifted up as it walked deeper into the white wilderness. But despite the tranquility of his surroundings the knight could not help the feeling of being watched, as if an ominous power unknown to man was lurking right beyond the edges of observation. This obscure atmosphere made him feel a bit uneasy, but as his thoughts wandered to his noble quest once again he gained new strength, and as the sun rose behind him he could see the castle walls looming in the distance. His armour shining with the warmth of the midday sun, his determination shining with the purity of his heart, the knight fearlessly rode closer. All world was quiet as he dismounted the steed and searched the massive wall for a crack, a door, a way in -but his search was in vain, for not even the smallest creature could get through the black stone. His only option was to climb. The wall was so high that it's top could not be seen from the ground, it merely vanished within the fog that was lingering around the castle. But he had no choice, he was on a quest to save this land from the ever possible threat of an evil and vicious dragon, and his need to do good would not let him turn back. He left his heavy armour behind and only took a light chest plate and his trusted sword and shield with him, chose what looked to be the easiest way up the wall, and slowly started to climb.

Battling against strong, ice cold winds the knight climbed up painfully slow, his fingers numbed by the frozen stone and cut by the sharp edges, his muscles aching from the cold. He lost his sense of time, did not know if it was day or night, or how long he had been climbing. All he knew was that he needed to get to the top and over to the other side, to fulfill his quest, and save the fair maiden. And somehow, after the climb that felt like it had lasted a day too long, the knight made it all the way up to the top of the great wall.

From the top he could see the castle grounds spreading in front of him, the deadly maze a dozen feet from the wall waiting to be entered, and the tower in the middle stretching towards the sky, lit by the afternoon sun. It seemed that the castle was built on a small hill, because the wall was far lower on the inside, low enough for a safe jump down. The knight then focused his attention to the maze, following the path from the entrance to the tower in the middle, trying to capture what he saw as images in his mind. He could not see anything moving within the maze, but he could hear the roars of the beasts as they lurked in the shadows, waiting for their next victim. But he knew turning back was not an option, the shame of failure would not be accepted. The knight sat on the wall for a moment longer, gathering his strength, watching the peaceful world on the other side of the wall to awaken his determination, and then jumped down.

The ground was frozen solid, but no snow was inside the castle walls. As he walked towards the entrance of the labyrinth the knight noticed that the air was colder here, and that somehow light wasn't able to illuminate as much as it had outside the walls. He felt as if a freezing hand was inside his chest, starting to hold his heart tighter and tighter with every step he took. By the time he got to the entrance the pain had grown so strong that his legs refused to take him any further. The thought hit him hard: he would not be able to make it. He would have to return as a failure, and spend the rest of his life mocked by everyone. He would not be worthy of the sword. But then a vision of the fair maiden filled his doubting mind, the helpless princess locked away in the tower, surrounded by riches like never seen, but never being able to enjoy them. And with that thought he knew he could not turn back now, he had to put an end to the reign of the horrid beast. It was his destiny to become a servant of the sword. And thus the knight buried his growing fear, and stepped into the dark maze.

He had expected the labyrinth to be a demanding trial, one that would require all his cunning and strength. He had asked the scholars about the common designs of mazes, brought with him some chalk and a torch, and spent hours training in the dark, preparing his mind should he be trapped without light. And from the top of the wall he had memorised a simple map that would most likely lead him through the maze. He had prepared for the worst -or so he thought. But after just a few moments spent within the dark and twisted corridors of the labyrinth he was proven wrong. There was no pattern he could follow, the route through that he had seen from the wall was nowhere to be found. The traps and the hordes of monsters forced him to retrace his steps more than once, and most of the time he felt he was going further away from the tower. His only hope was to believe that the ever more ancient design of the traps, and the increasing number of monsters he encountered meant that he was getting closer to his destination.

Then, just as he was losing his hope, it was over. There were no more monsters, no traps, no dead ends. Just a straight corridor and behind it a clearing. The knight found himself standing at the base of the mighty tower, the only part of the age old castle that was still standing, and a few feet from him waited a wooden door. His eyes travelled up and saw a light shining from the top window, clearly visible against the now storm-grey sky. It had to be where the maiden was imprisoned, surrounded by heaps of treasure -the setting of his final trial, after which he would have earned the glory and admiration. The knight tried the door, and found it to be unlocked. As he stepped into the dimly lit space he saw old, worn-out stairs leading to the top. The surrounding walls were covered with dried blood and what looked like ancient writing, impossible to understand. Nothing could be heard, somehow the noises from the outside world didn't get pass the thin door, and the tower itself was silent as the grave. The knight stood there for a moment, preparing himself once again, taking deep breaths till his heart started to quiet down and his mind was at ease, and then began the climb up to meet his destiny.

He was once again trapped with no knowledge of time, there were no windows through which the knight could have observed his apparent rise. No natural light came in, and in the gloom world lit by torches day and night were one and the same. At first he had been moving up swiftly, his sword ready and his spirits soaring high through victory in his mind, but as he kept climbing and the stairs kept on going exhaustion started to catch up with him. Soon he was too tired to hold his sword up, and the only reason why he was still walking was that his legs couldn't stop anymore. The air was getting hotter and the writing on the walls had turned into pictures that were just as incomprehensible for the knight. Every now and then he stumbled upon an empty helmet or a broken sword, all of unfamiliar design, the likes of which he had never seen, not even in the old books of the scholars. His body and soul were demanding rest now, but he was too afraid to stop and thus kept going, having only enough energy to keep his legs moving.

What seemed like a lifetime later the knight reached the top of the tower at last. His legs gave in and he collapsed on the floor, too exhausted to care should he his presence be revealed to the dragon. He tried to take off his chest plate for he had trouble breathing the hot air of the tower, but he was too tired to move. So the knight just lay there on the floor, powerless, hoping that the dragon was not home at the moment.

He woke up with a startle as his mind remembered where he was. The knight quickly got up to his feet, drawing his sword, but there was no danger to be seen. He looked around the room, surprised how vast it was, and saw that it was empty, no piles of treasure anywhere to be seen. Only an empty iron cage, hanging from the ceiling. Deep disappointment filled his mind and the knight was no longer able to hold back his bitter tears. But then suddenly he heard a noise, coming from within the cage. He lifted his eyes, and could now see a figure -the back of a woman in a golden dress. It looked like the maiden was crying, and had not noticed him yet. Since the dragon was nowhere to be seen, the knight sheathed his sword and slowly moved closer. He could now see that the cage was actually hanging over a very thin sheet of ice instead of a stone floor. The knight stopped to examine this wonder, for it should have been too warm for any ice to survive in the tower, not to mention ice so thin he could see the long drop down to the bottom of the tower through it.

It took a moment for him to notice that the tower was silent again. As the knight looked up he saw the maiden looking back at him -and then took a step back in shock. For what he had taken as a fair haired maiden in a golden dress was in fact a maiden made of pure gold. The dim light of the torches made her skin and hair shine like the sun itself, and a few silver tears were still on her cheeks, underneath her diamond eyes. Deep scars, almost as if she had been welded together, ran here and there on her body. Her eyes were shining with gratitude and her smile filled with relief as she looked through the bars. The knight was starting to recover from the shock, now understanding that his quest had been a success greater than he had ever imagined, his feat outshining even the deeds of the heroes of old. He would become a legend, a living legend. As he smiled back at her the knight extend his arm, trying to reach the maiden through the bars. But just as their fingers were about to touch, a deafening roar filled the room and shook the very foundations of the tower. The dragon had arrived, it's black body blocking all light so that only it's eyes, made of pure fire and filled with ancient wrath, could be seen. The knight jumped away from the cage, drawing out his sword once again, but he didn't even have time to lift up his shield before the boiling flames surrounded him and turned him into a pile of dust.

The rattle that the knight's blackened shield made as it fell to the floor was the only sound that could be heard after the dragon was done. It stood frozen for a moment, as if savouring the feeling of victory over yet another petty mortal trying to challenge it, or perhaps waiting to see if there was anyone else hiding in the dark. Then it disappeared just as silently as it had arrived, leaving the maiden yet again alone, accompanied only by her tears.

9LoC Part 8 -Steven

Our story starts with a bench. It's no different from the other benches though, no more comfortable, no more ancient or worn down. It's green paint was chipping off here and there, but other than that it was in good condition, just like the rest. The reason why it was less used was probably because the way it was placed: For some reason it was right at the edge of the park, facing the busy street instead of the pond. Most choose to watch the ducks instead of the rush hour.

But there was a man that came to sit on this particular bench every now and then. There was no telling when he would come, or how long he would stay, it seemed as if he just got a random thought. He came without a warning, sat down, and left just as suddenly as he had come. Always on this bench, and always alone.

Until she came.

It was an evening just like the rest as the man once again came without an apparent reason to sit and watch the busy street. But as he got closer he was greeted with a surprise -the bench was not empty. On the further end sat a girl, no, a young woman, seemingly unaware of the man's presence. He stopped, unsure what to do -he didn't want to intrude, but he also didn't want to leave since he was already there. Maybe she was a mind reader, or maybe he just wasn't hiding his thoughts that well, but she gave him a look and moved half an inch away from his end, signaling that it was okay for him to take a seat. He sat down, and so there they were, two strangers, sitting alone together, watching the people walk by.

From now on she, too, would come at random. At first the man still sat alone most of the time, but in a few weeks their schedules seemed to synchronize, and whenever he came, the woman was there. They didn't talk, just changed a nod and a look before and after the silent

Nine lives of Cat

Part 1: Leo
Part 2: The First
Part 3: Pain
Part 4: Desperation
Part 5: The Failure of Thomas
Part 6: Alexander
Part 7: Darkness of Heart
Part 8: Steven
Part 9: The End