I love it when the world decides to show its power over whatever lies in it. Days when the fog makes the castle seem much gentler and even more mysterious. Sharp edges get covered in this curtain of clouds, the corners where darkness rules are hidden from sight. The courtyard I’m standing in seems more alive, the movement of the clouds flowing over the abandoned tiles make it seem like I’m not the only one there. It seems like the fountain is filled once again, even though it is only an illusion that will fade as soon as the sun breaks through and scares away the fog. I have always loved this castle, and the memories of the times I lived in it sometimes seem to be the only thing that keep me alive, that keep the castle alive. Now darkness consumes the castle, and that is not a bad thing for there is still warmth and love in it. Long ago I believed there was a good and bad to everything, and nothing inbetween. Yet I was wrong. There IS good in the darkness, and evil in what is supposed to be good.

The castle changed. It used to be such a welcoming place, flowers everywhere in the patches of garden that were separated by the silver lines of small paths that were kept free of weeds, the walls painted a bright white. It seemed to shimmer whenever the sun shone brightly, which happened much more often than it does now. Voices and laughter sounded all through the castle and even the days when it rained seemed not to ever harm the mood of joy and happiness that surrounded it.The arrival of the new owners came with a different type of weather. There is no more laughter now, barely any sound is ever heard.

The only thing that ever breaks the silence is the music. The notes linger between the cold stone of the castle, the sounds echoing all through the buildings. They tell the story of the castle. I know it is the lady playing, for the sounds reflect her. She is the rose of the castle, only blooming at night. Her music is gentle, almost as a whisper on the wind. Each note shows you the history of the castle, some deep and dark, others light as the days of the past. Every stone in this castle has its own memories, memories they seem to share with the lady for she plays out everything that ever happened here. A song of change, but always a song of love. I wish I could cry over the words she speaks through her music for they mend the heart that was broken so long ago.

A song of good and bad, united in one.

Darkness now reigns the surroundings, thunderstorms always visible when you look out over the sea. The walls seem to be a deep black, yet no paintbrush ever covered the white paint that used to make them shine. Flowers do not grow anymore between the paths that have been taken over by the weeds, ivy covering the walls of the castle. It has an aura of being overtaken by nature. Yet it still is welcoming, in a strange way. The darkness seems to draw you in.Some may find that evil rules this castle, and avoid it any way possible.Those who take the time to listen to her story, to stand and take in the music, know better. Truth lies in what she tells of, and truth shows the fine line between good and bad. It is still very much possible to feel the love that is within the castle, even though it now shares it with darkness. No strangers ever come here, the castle is left alone, and so are its owners. They seek no connection to the villages around it and the forests around the castle shield it from the curious looks of some of the people in them. Many stories are told about the lord and the lady, yet none of them are ever true. How could they ever realize that they are so very different from what they know. They could never see the beauty of their love but would only judge the darkness of their actions.

Never could I have guessed things would be like this. The new lord and lady rarely leave the castle by day, yet as soon as evening falls she appears. She is of an unnatural beauty, untouched by the hands of time. Forever the same as she was the day she traded one life for another. I don’t think I have ever seen a person that is so serene on the outside whilst anyone around her can feel the fire that burns within. Her eyes tell a story to anyone who is willing to read into them. A story of happiness, but also of sorrow.

Like the castle she seems to be pure, untouched by anyone else, as wild as the nature around her. Yet her voice is soft, and saddened, telling of the feelings she so easily keeps under control. Never do you hear her footsteps, never a sudden sound to break the silence she so values. It seems like she waits all day for the sun to give up its fight against the moon, appearing as soon as the last beams of light die out. Truly a creature of the night, shining as brightly as any star on the nights sky. One will probably never know why she chose to live this life, yet it can’t be denied that it suits her. The way she moves, quietly and with sweeping movements gives her the appearance of something dangerous, which is contradicted by the softness she emits. Showing the contradiction of their lives, of the two sides their kind have.

This difference can be found in anything around them. The castle is warm and gentle, even though darkness seems to hold it tightly in its grasp. The garden might be dead but it only makes them seem so much more full of life. There is also contradictions in him. In no way does he resemble the lady, yet they fit together as perfectly as the pieces of a puzzle. Together they complete the picture that has no meaning when they are apart. Each of them compliments the other in a way that is impossible to know of unless you see them when they are one. He seems to be warm and caring, always the first one you see in the room. His presence lingers throughout the whole castle, his aura warming up even the coldest of places. Yet when you look into his eyes you can see it. He is the one that is really most dangerous of the two. His eyes are cold, the smile that is always on his lips never reaches them. He can, and will kill without remorse, the perfect example of his kind. Yet, when he is with her and she with him they are different. His eyes light up and her movements become less careful. Playfulness takes over her usual calm nature, while he calms down from his usual exuberant self. Together they are a whole. Apart they are a contradiction to themselves.

Every night she comes out here. Sitting on the edge of the fountain, her head resting against my heart, she lets one hand share its warmth with one of my branches. Every night she waits for him to come to her. It is impossible not to see the love that links them so closely together. The love that will surround them for the rest of their eternal life. They leave together, yet return alone, their lips colored bloodred as a result of their hunt. By the time night has to give way to the power of the sun they rest comfortably in eachothers arms once more.

How I know this is of no importance, like nothing else I know is, for I have no way to share it with the world. Forever connected to their life I stand here. An existance as magical as their love for eachother. I will keep every memory in my heart, remember every story this castle can tell. Yet I will forever mourn the love I lost. I will look back on the life I lost while I look down upon others living theirs. Will anyone ever listen to me, telling my story like the music of the lady of the castle, or will I forever just be the lonely willow in the courtyard, speaking words that no one hears.

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