[ adjusting to life here has been.. well, it has certainly been something.
her first days were the most difficult - painful and lonely and frightening. she missed her brother terribly, missed her home, the feeling of the earth beneath her and the sky over her head and the sun on her face. she never sees the sun here. even with her windows opened, the sky is ever steely grey, cold and unforgiving and dim, the nights thick and endless black. some days it rains, sleets, snows, but it is never warm, the sun never shows its face through the unbroken cover of clouds. it weighs on her, and always she had felt watched, always she heard whispers all around her. at first she told herself that it must have been drafts, but her ears are too keen for her to have kept herself convinced for very long.
this castle is far more alive than she could have ever imagined.
it was terrifying, at first. when the furniture began to move and the candles flicker, alisaie had been certain that she was losing her mind. the claustrophobic walls and sky were driving her mad.
yet there was so much more to it than that. at first she could hardly believe it, she could not understand how such a thing could be possible, and the many, many creatures had evaded her more pointed questions - they still do - but she has worked out, at least, that this must be some sort of curse. powerful magic. terrible magic. she can feel it in the walls when she opens herself to it, but its brand is dark and shadowy, one she is unwilling to touch, lest its corruptive influence pull her to it depths.
but that beastly master - the knight, as the castle's denizens call him - has kept good on his word, at least. she is given the freedom of the castle and its grounds, and while a prison is, after all, a prison, she feels better when she is able to wander the long corridors and walk the gardens. they are choked with vines and weeds, and the winter is approaching, but alisaie does what she can, using her influence to tame the thorny vines and clear the strangled earth, one ilm at a time.
the weather is chilly, however, and growing colder by the day. a storm rolls in that does not relent for days and, unable to wander the grounds, alisaie wanders the castle, instead. there must be more to see. this building is enormous, and she is sure that she has not seen half of it - most of the western wings have gone unexplored.
she hears him before she sees him, the telltale screech and groan of rusted metal and scratched steel giving his presence away immediately, but he is upon her more swiftly than anticipated. alisaie gasps, surprised, though it melts away quickly, her brows furrowing. ]
no subject
her first days were the most difficult - painful and lonely and frightening. she missed her brother terribly, missed her home, the feeling of the earth beneath her and the sky over her head and the sun on her face. she never sees the sun here. even with her windows opened, the sky is ever steely grey, cold and unforgiving and dim, the nights thick and endless black. some days it rains, sleets, snows, but it is never warm, the sun never shows its face through the unbroken cover of clouds. it weighs on her, and always she had felt watched, always she heard whispers all around her. at first she told herself that it must have been drafts, but her ears are too keen for her to have kept herself convinced for very long.
this castle is far more alive than she could have ever imagined.
it was terrifying, at first. when the furniture began to move and the candles flicker, alisaie had been certain that she was losing her mind. the claustrophobic walls and sky were driving her mad.
yet there was so much more to it than that. at first she could hardly believe it, she could not understand how such a thing could be possible, and the many, many creatures had evaded her more pointed questions - they still do - but she has worked out, at least, that this must be some sort of curse. powerful magic. terrible magic. she can feel it in the walls when she opens herself to it, but its brand is dark and shadowy, one she is unwilling to touch, lest its corruptive influence pull her to it depths.
but that beastly master - the knight, as the castle's denizens call him - has kept good on his word, at least. she is given the freedom of the castle and its grounds, and while a prison is, after all, a prison, she feels better when she is able to wander the long corridors and walk the gardens. they are choked with vines and weeds, and the winter is approaching, but alisaie does what she can, using her influence to tame the thorny vines and clear the strangled earth, one ilm at a time.
the weather is chilly, however, and growing colder by the day. a storm rolls in that does not relent for days and, unable to wander the grounds, alisaie wanders the castle, instead. there must be more to see. this building is enormous, and she is sure that she has not seen half of it - most of the western wings have gone unexplored.
she hears him before she sees him, the telltale screech and groan of rusted metal and scratched steel giving his presence away immediately, but he is upon her more swiftly than anticipated. alisaie gasps, surprised, though it melts away quickly, her brows furrowing. ]
Why?