Chapter 25: And He Survives...As Usual
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The snowstorm howled like a wounded wolf, wind tore across the frozen cliffs, dragging flurries of white through the jagged peaks. At the edge of the world, carved into the side of a mountain blackened by dark magic and evil of all sorts stood a castle...and not a beautiful one to be honest.
Not the kind sung about in old songs.
This one was made of obsidian and bone. Its towers were crooked, its gates rusted and tall, and its windows glowed faintly red and orange, anyone who stepped never came out or came out a shell of themselves.
But a rider approached.
Cloaked in black, face hidden beneath a hood, he rode a massive dark horse with eyes like dying embers. The beast’s hooves crunched over the snow with steam curling from its nostrils.
The guards at the gate didn’t halt him or ask the man to state his business in this area, because they didn’t need to.
They recognized him.
The gates groaned open immediately he arrived, chains rattling as the rider passed through without a word. The wind followed him in, shrieking through the iron bars before the gates slammed shut behind him.
He dismounted in one fluid motion.
The scythe strapped to his back clinked softly as he moved, he just walked slow and sure toward the castle doors, his boots echoing against the stone like a countdown.
The doors opened before he touched them and the darkness within seemed swallowed him whole.