Moonlight shimmered across my pale skin as I slipped through the darkness, wandering without illumination except for my companion, the Moon. She kept my secrets and she never permitted me to stumble.
My attire was spider-webbed with intricate black lace and the vaporous elegance of a bride’s gown. The wind off the sea was chilling my bones, yet I did not seek the comfort of sleep, where only dreams wander and weave their tales and are forgotten so easily by the duplicitous light of day.
Stone-cold walls emanate a formidable presence, bound by their memories and the howls of the tormented. These stones speak to me.
Gliding through the halls by memory, I hear the whispers of those who have passed this way. The scent of a candle newly snuffed hovers in the air as a reminder that, for some, light is useful and perhaps even necessary.
A soft sound ripples into my ear, like a forgotten song, and I listen with every fiber of my being. Music is an essential part of the human soul and the songs of my childhood dance in my head and later, the music of the ballroom and the joyous ribaldry of life.
The darkness of night is mine alone and I am filled with the sanctity of my purpose, passing each room and peering into these spaces in which I am the guardian.
Slumbering dreamers beneath the heavy quilt toss and turn restlessly, and I watch them with care.
When I pass the great hall, I hear the children laughing as their sire tells them a tall tale of heroes and great battles in which he is always victorious. The aroma of good food and warmth permeates them, and I am pleased. My family is warm and safe.
Yet my bones are bitterly cold and I move closer to the fire and, as I do, it sizzles and snuffs out, leaving a vaporous memory of smoke in the air. And the laughter is silent.
I came to this place as a child-bride and understood it was my duty to manage the household and to bear children to assure the bloodline for my husband, Sebastian.
Often, when my belly was fecund and my skin glowing, I would catch him watching me with that half-smile of wonder upon his dark features and my heart would beat with a magical strength within my chest, trying to escape the boundaries of mortality
Now, I slip through the darkness without a flame to light my way, searching for Sebastian and the sound of his voice, but I am met with silence.
A crash startles me, followed by a small shriek and then nervous laughter. The voices are young. Male and female and they are carrying strange lights to illuminate their pathway through the stygian night. Was I sleeping and they have awakened me?
I deliberately provoke them and send a vase crashing to the floor. Screams are my reward, and then they are running. It is strange that these faceless ones are prowling through my home without invitation.
Gusts of brutal wind whip through the open window and I realize it is my desire that this power will lift these strangers and toss them, hurtling them out of my home.
Then the blessed silence returns.
Although, I often believe it is a curse.
Where are the voices of my children and my mate? Where is the bustling of activity and the joyous gatherings? Are they all sleeping? Am I the only one who walks the night?
They are gone. I do not know their names, but it is true that visitors come here uninvited and prowl through my halls and carry strange little lights, whispering to each other and asking me questions. But they never await my answer. Besides, the questions are quite foolish.
Some even asked how I died.
I am not dead. Such an outrageous and quite rude conversation.
Sebastian. Where is he? My great warrior surely must be able to kick these ruffians from my castle or call out his guards and his soldiers under his command. But Sebastian is silent.
Sometimes I can barely remember his face and there are other times when I feel his breath upon me and his scent is a perfume which intoxicates me.
The beautiful moon goddess smiles down upon me, gently, protectively, and I feel a sense of intoxicating joy.
Pieces of my clothing fall away, but I continue on. I have many beautiful things to wear as the seamstress is quite talented and dedicated.
As I wander through these dark halls, I feel a strange sense of unease and I cannot say why that is happening. Perhaps it was all the nasty questions by those rude interlopers who invaded my home and disrupted my peace.
A fist of terror fills my chest and I cannot escape it.
My son! Where is he? Is he crying?
I am moving through the hallways and the rooms of this vast place, seeking my beloved child and, as I stop to listen, I hear his cries. I rush towards the sound, feeling maddened.
Where are the nursemaids?
Frantically, I rush through the halls, searching each room, but I am met with emptiness and the darkness which not only conceals but devastates in a way I cannot name. It is an unbearable darkness that obliterates all rational thought.
Jacques! My darling boy. Where are you?
I feel my heart exploding within my chest, yet still it continues to beat and I run, desperately seeking my child, meeting only emptiness.
I am halted.
Sebastian.
He is sitting beside the cold hearth where a fire has long since died and his hair is no longer dark but has morphed into a soft whiteness, yet I know his scent and his heartbeat. He is mine forever.
His face is cupped within his hands, his shoulders sagged, his body contorted in the way of someone crippled by a severe misfortune.
He is weeping. Great sobs are wracking his body, and he is gasping for breath. His suffering is immense. I move towards him, but the darkness swallows him.
I am alone in the moonlight, feeling baffled and betrayed by the silver streaks of light that now dapple the empty darkness.
The haunting howl of the wind cascades down the hallway and fierce gusts tear at my clothing, but I stand boldly against it. I have never hidden from conflict and I will not be taken by this insidious wind that has invaded my space.
I, too, wish to weep. But more than weeping, I feel a scream rising in my throat, and I struggle to swallow it. I am the Lady of the Castle and I shall not show my fear.
Am I afraid? Why? Is it the answers to those questions that were asked by the intruders and I refused to respond?
Now I am hurtling through the halls, desperately looking for my son. His name is Jaques. How could I ever forget his name? How have I lost him? I know every room and every corner and crevice in this structure. I shall find him. And then, Sebastian will cease his sorrowful weeping and he will embrace me and we will be safe again.
Frantically seeking, but never finding Sebastian or my sweet-faced son. I know he must be hungry. He needs me and I need to hold him tightly against my heart forever.
The tower. I have often thought of it as a place of solace where I might gather my thoughts. That was true until they locked the door and I became a prisoner.
They spoke of loss and madness and death. There were nasty whispers, but I had ears to hear. I tried to understand.
I wanted my son. They needed to help me find him. He was lost. Yet, Sebastian could not bring him to me.
My screams echoed throughout the halls of this vast castle and those persistent intruders scattered in fear. How dare they come here and disturb my wanderings? And ignite my memories.
Oh, how I wanted to forget.
But the memories blazed like a fire within my heart and soul, and I was stone-faced as we laid my son into the cold ground. I believed I had wandered into someone else’s nightmare.
And then the madness and the screaming and the never-ending despair took me. Sebastian could not console me. He was a stranger.
When he took another wife, I did not even weep. There were no tears remaining for me. Only the hollow and haunted task of continuing to breathe.
One moonlit night, I understood what I must do. I am clever and I worked at it diligently until I was able to pry open the caged bars of the window. No one noticed. They no longer had any interest in serving the Lady of the Castle.
The Lady of the Moon watched me, welcoming me, approving, applauding my cleverness.
When I crawled up onto the window frame, I was surprised at the ease with which I was able to accomplish this deed.
There was no hesitation as I perched my small body within the frame, looking out longingly over the sea.
And then I heard my child whimpering. He was waiting.
I leaped from the window, and I became a giant predatory bird as I flew out over the seas, morphing into something eternal.
And now I am vigilant as I walk these ancient halls in the shroud of comforting darkness. Each night, I listen diligently, knowing I shall hear my son’s voice calling to me.
