The grandeur of Skycross Castle loomed before them, its towering spires casting long shadows across the landscape as the sun dipped low on the horizon. The castle’s imposing walls, with their intricate stonework and sprawling gardens, stood like a silent sentinel guarding the secrets within. For a moment, it felt like the air itself had grown colder as they neared, the distant birdsong muffled by the weight of the place.
Inside the car, the family sat in tense silence. The low hum of the engine vibrated through the floor, but it did little to soothe the thick atmosphere between them. There was no idle chatter, no distractions to ease the growing sense of unease as they approached their new home. This castle, so vast and majestic, felt as foreign as the world they had left behind.
Edwin sat in the backseat, pressed close to the window, his breath fogging the glass slightly. His hand rested there, fingertips brushing the cool surface, as if trying to anchor himself to something real. His gaze was fixed on the distant towers of Skycross Castle, but it felt as though he were seeing them for the first time, despite having lived there for the past year. The stone structure, vast and cold, loomed larger than he remembered, and a deep, gnawing uncertainty took root in his chest. He had fought so hard to bring his family here, to save them from the dangers of their old life, but now, as the castle grew nearer, doubt gnawed at his resolve. Would this place really offer the safety and peace they so desperately needed? Or was it just another illusion of security, hiding its own dangers within?
Beside him, Alex sat in silence. His adoptive brother’s presence was usually a source of comfort, a steady calm in the chaos that often surrounded them, but today even Alex seemed on edge. His eyes flicked from the castle to Edwin and back again, his hands fidgeting in his lap—an unusual sign of his own nervous energy. For all his outward calm, even Alex couldn’t mask the undercurrent of tension that flowed between them all.
In the front seat, their mother cradled Edwin’s younger sister, who lay curled in her lap. She absently stroked her daughter’s fur, her fingers moving in a repetitive, soothing motion, though her eyes never left the road ahead. There was a rigidity to her posture, a quiet tension in the way she held herself, as if she were bracing for something unknown, something terrible. Edwin knew that look well—it was the look of someone who had lived too long on the edge of fear, never quite able to relax, even in moments that should have offered peace. Moments like this.
Markus, just a few months younger than Edwin, sat on the other side of their mother. His knees were pulled up to his chest, arms wrapped tightly around them, as if he could make himself smaller, less noticeable. His wide eyes darted between the passing scenery and Edwin, a silent plea for reassurance written in their depths. But Edwin had none to give. Not now. Not when he wasn’t sure himself.
The silence in the car felt like it was pressing in on all sides, thick and heavy. Edwin could feel it weighing on him, settling into the pit of his stomach. He caught Markus’s gaze and forced a small smile, though it felt weak and hollow even to him. “We’re almost there,” he said, his voice barely more than a whisper, but the words felt insubstantial, like they were trying too hard to fill the space between them.
Markus nodded, but his expression remained guarded, his lips pressed tightly together. “Do you really think it’ll be different there?” he asked, his voice small and tentative, as if he were afraid of the answer.
Edwin hesitated, the question lingering in the air like a challenge he wasn’t sure he could meet. He wanted to tell Markus what he needed to hear—that everything would be different, that they were safe now, that the place would finally give them the peace they had been searching for—but the truth was, Edwin wasn’t sure. He had fought to bring them here, to escape the life they had known, but some part of him, a deep and quiet part, whispered that the fear they carried might not be so easily left behind.
Alex’s voice broke through the stillness, low but steady. “It’ll be better,” he said, glancing between Edwin and Markus, his tone resolute, as if saying it aloud would make it so. “Maybe not perfect, but better. We’ve come too far for it not to be.”
There was a quiet certainty in Alex’s words that Edwin wished he could feel himself, but all he could manage was a nod, unsure if he truly believed it.
His mother shifted in her seat, her gaze still fixed on the looming silhouette of Skycross Castle. Her voice, when she finally spoke, was soft and trembling, barely louder than the hum of the engine. “I don’t know,” she murmured, as though speaking more to herself than to them. “Places like this... they’re not meant for people like us.”
The words hit Edwin like a punch to the chest, a reminder of the quiet resignation she had carried for as long as he could remember. He turned to her, his heart aching at the weariness in her voice, at the deep exhaustion that had settled into her bones after years of struggling to survive. “Mom,” he said gently, trying to reach her through the wall of doubt she had built around herself, “we’ve earned this. We’ve been through too much not to deserve it.”
She gave a small, tight nod, but the doubt remained in her eyes. Her gaze stayed locked on the road ahead, on the towering castle that loomed closer with each passing moment.
Markus shifted in his seat, drawing his knees even closer to his chest, as if the movement could somehow protect him from the uncertainty that lay ahead. His voice was barely audible when he spoke again, cracking slightly around the edges. “What if they don’t want us?” he whispered. “What if... we don’t belong?”
Edwin swallowed the lump in his throat, forcing himself to respond, even though the words felt heavy and uncertain. “We belong,” he said, his voice firmer than he felt inside. “We’ve earned this.”
“You don’t control everything,” Markus muttered, his voice bitter and filled with a fear he couldn’t quite shake. “What if someone else decides we’re not worth it?”
Alex leaned forward slightly, his voice firm but gentle, like a hand offering support. “No one’s going to kick us out, Markus. We’re here now, and we’ll make it work. Together.”
Markus fell silent, but the doubt still flickered in his eyes, a quiet resignation that Edwin knew all too well. He wanted to reach out to his brother, to offer more reassurance, but the truth was, Edwin wasn’t sure what to say. He didn’t know how to make his brother believe that things would be better because, deep down, Edwin wasn’t sure he believed it himself.
The car slowed as they neared the gates of Skycross Castle, the iron bars gleaming in the fading light of day. The chauffeur pulled the car to a stop, and for a moment, no one moved. The silence inside the car grew even heavier, thick with unspoken fears and doubts.
Edwin’s hand hovered over the door handle, his fingers trembling slightly. “We’re here,” he said, his voice barely audible, as though saying the words would make the moment real.
One by one, they stepped out of the car, their feet crunching on the gravel beneath them. The castle stood tall and imposing before them, its stone walls towering above their heads, casting deep shadows across the courtyard. Edwin felt small in its shadow, as though the weight of the entire place was pressing down on him, a constant reminder of how far they had come—and how far they still had to go. His mother stood beside him, her grip on his sister tight, her face pale and drawn. Markus hovered close, his arms still wrapped around himself, his gaze flicking nervously between the towering walls and the people around him. Alex stood just behind, a silent but steady presence.
“This is it,” Edwin said softly, more to himself than to anyone else. “This is your new home.”
Markus glanced up at the castle, his wide eyes filled with a mixture of awe and fear. “It’s... it’s huge,” he murmured, his voice barely louder than the breeze that rustled through the trees.
Edwin nodded, his throat tight with emotion. “Yeah. It is.”
For a long moment, they all stood there, staring up at the massive structure before them. The air was cool, and the only sound was the soft rustling of the wind through the nearby trees. Edwin’s heart raced in his chest, his mind spinning with the weight of the unknown. The future stretched out before them, uncertain and vast, like the castle itself—filled with both promise and danger, depending on how they navigated it.
Finally, it was Alex who broke the silence. “Come on,” he said softly, placing a hand on Edwin’s shoulder, his touch grounding. “Let’s go inside.”
Edwin nodded, though his legs felt heavy, as if the weight of everything they had endured was pressing down on him all at once. He started forward, the crunch of gravel beneath his feet a quiet reminder of how far they had come, and how much further they had to go. His family followed closely behind, their footsteps slow and hesitant. The gates creaked open as they approached, revealing the vast entrance hall of Skycross Castle, its polished marble floors gleaming in the dim light that spilled from the grand chandeliers above.
As they crossed the threshold into the grand entrance hall, the silence grew even heavier, the air cooler inside the stone walls. The room stretched out before them, its high ceilings and intricate carvings making it feel both grand and imposing. Edwin’s mother clutched his sister tighter as they stepped further into the vast space, her posture tense and uncertain. Markus hovered close by, his eyes wide as he took in the towering walls and intricately carved pillars that surrounded them.
Before they could fully process the enormity of their new surroundings, a familiar voice echoed through the hall, cutting through the stillness like a blade.
“I see you managed to save your family,” Nolan’s voice echoed off the stone walls, filling the vast hall with an icy authority that seemed to chill the very air.
Edwin turned slowly to face his father. There, striding toward them with long, purposeful steps, was Nolan—tall and imposing, as always. His presence filled the room like a dark shadow, his sharp eyes sweeping over the family with the same cold detachment that Edwin had grown so used to. For a moment, Nolan’s gaze lingered on Edwin’s mother, who stood stiffly beside her children, her face pale but determined. Then, his eyes moved to Markus, narrowing slightly as if he were weighing the boy’s worth in an instant.
Edwin’s chest tightened at the sight of him. Nolan had always been a pragmatic figure in his life, powerful, influential, and sometimes warm if needed. Now, standing before him in the grandeur of Skycross Castle, Edwin felt a familiar weight settle on his shoulders, the crushing pressure of his father’s expectations.
Nolan’s lips curved into a faint smile, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “Well, we’ve got plenty of work for them to do,” he said, his tone matter-of-fact, as though their arrival was nothing more than another item to check off his list of responsibilities.
Edwin’s mother stiffened beside him, her grip on his sister tightening. Markus shifted uncomfortably, his arms wrapping tighter around himself as he looked between Nolan and Edwin, uncertainty flickering across his face. The casual mention of “work”—after everything they had been through—felt like a cold slap in the face, a reminder that even here, in the supposed safety of Skycross Castle, they weren’t free from the demands of survival.
Edwin took a deep breath, steadying himself before speaking. “They’ve been through a lot,” he said quietly, but with an edge of firmness in his voice. “We’ve all been through a lot.”
Nolan raised an eyebrow, amusement flickering across his face for the briefest moment. “I don’t doubt it,” he replied smoothly, his eyes never leaving Edwin. “But we don’t get to rest on our laurels. There’s always work to be done, and this place doesn’t run on charity. Everyone here earns their keep.”
His words hung in the air like a threat, the unspoken implications clear. Nolan wasn’t offering sanctuary out of kindness—this was a transaction. A deal. And if they didn’t live up to his expectations, the consequences would be swift and unforgiving.
Edwin’s fists clenched at his sides, but he forced himself to stay calm. He knew better than to challenge his father outright—Nolan was too powerful, too well-versed in cutting people down with a single word. Still, the tightness in his chest didn’t ease. He glanced at Alex, hoping for some unspoken reassurance from his adoptive brother. But Alex’s face remained unreadable, his posture as steady and composed as ever.
Before Edwin could respond, his mother spoke, her voice soft but resolute. “We’re not looking for charity,” she said, lifting her chin slightly as she met Nolan’s gaze with a quiet strength. “We’ll do what needs to be done. But we need time—time to adjust, time to heal.”
For a moment, something flickered in Nolan’s eyes. A brief acknowledgment of her words, perhaps. Or maybe it was just surprise at her boldness. Either way, he nodded curtly. “You’ll have that time,” he said, his tone not entirely devoid of empathy. “But don’t forget—we all have a role to play.”
Edwin could feel the tension in his mother’s posture ease slightly, though her face remained drawn with worry. He stepped closer to her, his hand brushing against her arm in a silent gesture of support. Markus stayed close, his small frame rigid with uncertainty, his gaze fixed on the floor as if avoiding Nolan’s cold scrutiny.
“Well,” Nolan said, breaking the silence once more, “now that you’re here, let’s get you settled.” He turned sharply on his heel, his long coat swaying as he began to stride down the hall. Alex fell in step beside him, his quiet presence a constant, unwavering force.
Edwin exchanged a glance with his mother and Markus before they followed after Nolan. The grandeur of the castle seemed to press in on them from all sides as they moved deeper into the sprawling halls. The walls were adorned with intricate tapestries, the rich fabric depicting scenes of past battles and victories, a testament to the power that had been wielded within these walls for generations. Large portraits of stern-faced ancestors lined the corridors, their eyes following the family’s passage, as if silently judging their worth.
Each step felt heavier than the last, the weight of their new reality settling in. This wasn’t a place of refuge, not really. It was a fortress, a monument to power—and power always came with a price.
Edwin kept his gaze forward, but he couldn’t shake the tension that gnawed at him. Markus walked closely by, his steps faltering occasionally as he looked around, wide-eyed and overwhelmed. His small hands fidgeted nervously, his earlier questions about belonging still hanging in the air, unanswered.
Nolan suddenly stopped in front of a set of large wooden doors, their dark oak surface marked with intricate carvings. With a sharp flick of his hand, the doors creaked open, revealing a room smaller than Edwin had expected. It was still grand by their standards, furnished with a large oak table, plush chairs, and a crackling fireplace that filled the room with a warm glow. The sight was inviting, but it also carried a sense of formality, as though everything in this place was designed to remind them that they were here on someone else’s terms.
Nolan turned to face them, gesturing toward the chairs. “Sit,” he said simply, his voice leaving no room for hesitation.
Edwin, his mother, and Markus hesitated for a moment before obeying, the plush cushions of the chairs sinking under their weight. Alex remained standing near Nolan, his posture still and composed, his eyes flickering between Edwin’s family and his father.
For a long moment, the only sound was the crackle of the fire and the soft rustle of fabric as they settled in their seats. Edwin shifted uncomfortably, waiting for Nolan to speak, to tell them what came next. His father’s silence was deliberate, calculated—another reminder of who held the power here.
Finally, Nolan spoke. “This isn’t going to be easy,” he said, his voice steady but cold. “I won’t sugarcoat things for you. You’re not here as guests. There’s work to be done, and everyone in this castle earns their keep.”
Edwin’s mother nodded stiffly, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. “We understand,” she said quietly. “We’re not afraid of hard work.”
Nolan’s gaze lingered on her for a moment before shifting to Edwin. “You’ve been here long enough to know how things operate, Edwin. Your family will need to fall in line quickly. There’s no room for slackers here.”
Edwin met his father’s eyes, a knot of frustration tightening in his chest. He had brought his family here for a better life, but the constant reminder that they were expected to “earn their keep” felt like chains being wrapped around them all over again. Still, he held his tongue. “They’ll adjust,” he said, his voice more clipped than he intended.
Nolan’s eyes narrowed slightly, but he said nothing of the tone. Instead, he nodded. “Good. The sooner they do, the better.”
There was a long pause, and the tension in the room grew thicker. Markus shifted in his seat, glancing nervously between Nolan and Edwin. His small hands fidgeted with the edges of his shirt, his usual optimism dampened by the weight of their new reality.
Nolan’s sharp gaze shifted to Markus. “Markus,” he said, his voice softer but still firm, “you’ll be starting your duties in the stables. It’s hard work, but it’ll teach you discipline. You’ll report to the stable master tomorrow morning.”
Markus stiffened, his eyes widening slightly. He looked to Edwin for some kind of reassurance, but all Edwin could do was nod, offering him a silent, supportive glance. Markus swallowed and nodded back, his small voice barely above a whisper. “Yes, sir.”
Nolan’s gaze then turned to their mother. “You’ll be working with the castle’s staff,” he said. “It’ll be different from the mines, but I expect you to keep up.”
Edwin’s mother didn’t flinch, though her expression tightened with the weight of his words. “Of course,” she said, her voice calm but firm. “We’ll do whatever is required.”
For a moment, there was a flicker of something in Nolan’s eyes—respect, perhaps—but it was gone as quickly as it appeared. He turned to Alex, nodding slightly, a silent confirmation of something Edwin didn’t fully understand. It was as though they had reached some unspoken agreement between them, a bond forged long before Edwin and the others had arrived.
“Good,” Nolan said, his voice final. “You’ll be shown to your rooms shortly. Rest tonight. Tomorrow, the work begins.”
Edwin stood up slowly, feeling the weight of his father’s words bearing down on him like a physical force. His mother followed, rising with the same stiff, cautious movements, her grip on Edwin’s younger sister tightening once again. Markus lagged behind, his movements sluggish, as though the burden of everything that had been said was too much for him to process all at once. He stood, but the expression on his face was one of resignation, not resolve.
Alex stepped forward, placing a reassuring hand on Markus’s shoulder, the touch gentle but firm. “It’s going to be alright,” Alex said softly, his voice as steady as ever. “We’ll make this work.”
Markus nodded, though his eyes were still filled with uncertainty, his small hands clenched into fists at his sides. Edwin watched the exchange, feeling a flicker of gratitude toward Alex, but also a deeper sadness. Alex had never truly fit in, not at school and not here. First, it had been the school bullies who singled him out, and then the slave children had followed suit, learning from what they had seen. Alex had always been an easy target, and even though he stood now, offering calm reassurance, Edwin knew it wasn’t confidence that kept him steady—it was survival. Alex had grown used to enduring, to hiding his vulnerabilities behind a mask of quiet strength.
Standing side by side, Edwin felt a bond with his brother, knowing they had weathered similar struggles. But when Edwin looked at Markus, he noticed a distance. To Alex, Markus wasn’t family—just another rabbit from a world Alex didn’t feel connected to. And in this grand, predator-ruled castle, that distance seemed even more apparent.
As they turned to leave the room, Edwin felt his father’s gaze on him once again, sharp and calculating. Nolan’s eyes lingered on him for a moment longer than was comfortable, as though he were weighing Edwin’s worth, deciding whether or not he had made the right choice in allowing the family to stay.
“You’ve done well to bring them here, Edwin,” Nolan said finally, his voice low but filled with an authority that left no room for doubt. “But remember—this is only the beginning.”
Edwin swallowed hard, giving a stiff nod before following his family out of the room. Nolan’s words echoed in his mind, heavy with unspoken meaning. There was no room for failure here. No second chances. Whatever happened next, it was up to Edwin to ensure that his family met the expectations placed upon them. The pressure was suffocating.
They walked down the long corridors in silence, the sound of their footsteps reverberating off the stone walls. The air was cool, and the firelight from the torches flickered in the shadows, casting an eerie glow across the faces of the portraits that lined the walls. Edwin could feel the weight of the past pressing down on them, the legacy of the castle’s ancestors watching their every move. It was as though the very walls of the castle were alive, judging them, testing them.
When they finally reached their quarters, Edwin’s mother exhaled a long, weary breath, her shoulders sagging as the weight of the day’s events seemed to catch up with her all at once. She didn’t say a word, but the exhaustion in her eyes was unmistakable.
“We’ll be alright,” she whispered, her voice barely louder than a breath. It was as if she were trying to convince herself as much as her children. She adjusted her grip on Edwin’s sister, who had been unusually quiet throughout the entire day. The little girl seemed to sense the tension, her wide, innocent eyes watching everything unfold without fully understanding the gravity of the situation.
Edwin nodded, though he wasn’t sure he believed his own agreement. He wanted to reassure his mother, to tell her that everything would be fine, but the doubts gnawing at him kept his mouth shut. Skycross Castle was not the sanctuary he had imagined—it was more like a battleground. And the fight for survival wasn’t over; it had only just begun.
Markus, still quiet and withdrawn, shuffled into the room, his gaze darting around nervously as though he expected something terrible to happen at any moment. His usual curiosity, his natural optimism, seemed dimmed, weighed down by the tension and uncertainty that surrounded them. Edwin wanted to say something to comfort him, to bring back some of that light that Markus always carried with him, but the words wouldn’t come. What could he say? He had brought them here, but he wasn’t sure if this place was any safer than the life they had left behind.
“Get some rest,” Alex said quietly, his voice gentle but firm. “Tomorrow is going to be a long day.”
The room was quiet now, save for the soft crackling of the fireplace in the corner. His mother had already settled down on the bed with his sister, her eyes closed but her brow still furrowed with worry. Markus lay curled up on the other side of the room, his small frame tense, even in sleep. Edwin couldn’t bring himself to close his eyes. The weight of responsibility pressed down on him like a leaden blanket, making it impossible to relax.
What if they don’t want us? Markus’s earlier question echoed in Edwin’s mind, refusing to let him rest. What if they didn’t belong here? What if Nolan had been wrong to let them stay?
Edwin’s hand clenched into a fist at his side. He couldn’t afford to think like that. They were here now, and they had to make it work. He had to make it work.
But as the firelight flickered on the walls, casting long shadows across the room, Edwin couldn’t help but feel that the real battle was just beginning.
