Into Castle Ravensloft, Part 3

(This is a re-post of a story originally written for the printed version of the View some 10-15 years ago)
[Editor's Note: click here to read Part I, and click here to read Part II]

Into Castle Ravensloft by Steven Matulewicz

3

Twenaria was hanging out in Pyr’s Library. Not exactly where she would prefer to be, but hey, if you want to see your Bro, sometimes you have to go to him. And them hit him over the head and drag him into the woods. It’s much more fun out there than with all the stuffy crud. So she bided her time.

The Private Library in Chimeron Castle is a good sized room with several large oaken tables (which at this point were covered with books, maps, scrolls and whatever Pyr thought was interesting). A Couple of well-worn leather chiars sat near a fire, while harder wooden ones were hap-hazardly arranged around the tables. Pyr spent a lot of time in here and it showed. I mean hell, almost every story he ever wrote started or ended up in here. She wondered if he at least slept near or on the balcony. It overlooked the Garden. Even with the earth sleeping, there is an energy about it. Knowing him he probably ended up collapsing in a pile of books.

So she listened to him politely as he re-told the dealing of the past few days. A bit long-winded and overly-dramatic but still interesting. He had told her about the Vault before. The other stuff, not so much. But the reality is things were coming to a head. She’ll have to go and actively watch the Western Front to make sure nothing hits the main press. “One of these days,” she thought “Someone is going to write a story or tell a tale about the Western Front.” All that waiting is immensely boring, but now and again it’s a necessary thing. And sometimes it’s *very* exciting. But for all the times people have gone there, no one speaks about it much, if at all.

Pyr comes to the end of his story and she shifts her position in the chair so she might do a bit swifter mischief. And she waited a bit more.

“So what you’re saying, Pyr,” she says with a hint of humor, “is that you are the owner of a huge chunk of concentrated evil.”

“Yes.”

“AAAnd yet you are supposed to be this White Knight Palidin? Sounds shady to me.” Pyr sighs and looks at the floor a moment. He knows she is joking but it’s the same question, over and over. Testing him and pushing at him. You are not a Paladin because of X. You are not a King because you are not Meg or Jarrod.

The world can go to Hell. I am what I am. No one can take that away but himself. He looks at her levelly.

“And would you prefer I send in an army and destroy the Vault?”

“It would be a start.”

“These,” he says, indicating the whole room with the sweep of his arm, “Are mostly from the Castle. Do you know what they tell me? That Vault is older than the castle. It tells me hundreds have died, as individuals if not as groups, either getting into the vault or dying inside of it. And the things in there are for pure power to be examined by people who wanted god- like abilities, or supreme domination of this dimensions, and even all the dimensions. They tell me how tight the spells are. They don’t tell me how to un-do them. And that is on purpose.”

“The problem with past generations,” Pyr said, slightly changing the subject, “is that they never learned how to defeat things. They only learned how to “bottle” things up and figure that was as good as defeat. And our generation unwittingly opens them up. The biggest problems that this Realm has ever faced come from individual acts of ignorance or stupidity. And then we do what our generation does best: we actually defeat the evil.” He walks over to the opening to the Balcony and Twenaria follows him.

“Releasing that room would be one of those stupid acts. It would be like releasing Hell itself on this earth. Or so I have guessed. Is that Bravery or Stupidity? Is being a Paladin walking into Hell just because it exists? A Paladin’s job is to protect this universe and all life within it. They are dedicated to this cause, not just from their moral compass but from understanding and wisdom. The short is If I could destroy it, I would. And I have been, small bit by small bit. But to do something right, you don’t just charge in sometimes. You take the diligence to do it right.  It takes time.”

Twenaria smiles a bit, walks out to the balcony and looks down into the garden a moment. Pyr follows her out into the night sky. It was cold, but with their cloaks they didn’t notice it much.

“That doesn’t explain why you keep unwarded, plainly evil items in a partially warded part that could in itself be broken into, especially if there is any possibility of something either getting released in there or it getting out.”

“I keep them there because to be honest there is no safer place. There is no temple of Good that will accept such evil or powerful items under their roofs. I do not trust we have the ability to create something so protected as that place is, that something couldn’t find its way in. It is not there just to keep evil in or out. It’s there to keep everything in or out, unless they are supposed to be there. Like the beasts that guard it, I do not believe the wards are evil in themselves. I believe that was the intent of the casters, and why there are clearly evil items within it.”

“You know, Brother?” Twenaria steps in close to Pyr. He looks down at her and grins.

“No. What?”

Twenaria hits him firmly with the flat of her dagger and in one motion pushes him over the railing into the hay cart below.

“You talk too much.” She motions to the Militiaman driving the wagon and he begins his way out to the woodlands beyond the hills.

Twenaria hums silently to herself, getting her gear together for a good night of hunting with her Brother.