Page 99 of Castle of the Cursed
It’s the first spark of boldness I’ve seen in her, but I don’t know if it’s borne of defiance or defeat. She could simply be past caring what happens anymore.
“Time is an uncurable curse, of which you are afflicted,” says the hooded figure. “You cannot kill time, nor can you stop or control it. This hourglass is your only aid. It strips time of its invisibility, so it cannot sneak up on you.”
There’s something familiar about this instructor’s voice.
“Who are you?” asks my sister, like she hears it, too.
They take a step forward, and Antonela backs up, tensing, like a bird poised to fly. Then they throw their hood back.
The face that’s revealed is otherworldly yet familiar. They have long silver hair, and their eyes seem to contain every color. I’m reminded of Sebastián, but I get the impression this being could be even more ancient.
“Brálaga,” says Antonela, recognizing them at the same time I do.
As I take in their features, I realize I’ve seen them before—the Aquarius-like water fountain in Oscuro’s plaza.
“What—what is happening to me?” asks Antonela, her voice thick.
“You were hit with what I call an Earth vaccination,” says Brálaga. “Your mind was overcome with images and concepts and emotions from your home world. The ocean, the sun, the moon, the stars. Parents, friends, family, siblings, children. Love, laughter, grief, rage, hope, sex—everything was fed into your brain, all at once. This inoculation is a fail-safe, should you make it this far, meant to prevent you from going into catatonic shock if you make it back.”
It’s clear from Antonela’s face that she registered none of that. She looks distressed. “I… feel something. It is inside me,” she says, scratching at her chest. “I cannot describe it… like a new organ.”
“Try to describe it,” encourages Brálaga.
“I… need. I want?”
“What is it you want?”
“I want… to experience it. All of it. I want to go home.”
“Of course you do,” says Brálaga. “Now that you’ve had a taste, you are ravenous for more. It was my intention to awaken your appetite. That is why I made an exception for your kind, giving you access to the Atrium.”
“My kind?”
“You are a human of Earth,” they inform her, and it’s clear from her blank reaction that this doesn’t mean much. “Tell me, what made you so eager to access the Atrium?”
“Something an instructor said. That they meant to cure me of my humanity. It made me think I might not belong here.”
“You are right,” says Brálaga matter-of-factly. “The doorways you saw all lead to different worlds, universes, dimensions, whatever you choose to call them. All my grandchildren arrive here through one of those doors.”
“So—so other places exist, besides the castle?”
My sister’s question sounds so innocent, and I’m overwhelmed with pity for her. All she has ever known in life is this Hell.
“Too many to count, child. These doors lead only to the worlds I know about.”
“And one of them goes to Earth?”
“No,” says Brálaga, and my twin’s chest deflates with defeat. “That door only opens when this countdown ends.”
She shakes her head. “I do not understand.”
“You are just as unlikely to understand the explanation, but I will still provide it. This castle is my fail-safe. I have established a foothold in many universes, and should I ever need a secure hideout, this castle is in a dimension I alone control that is built on my blood. Yet maintaining this realm requires an energy source. There must constantly be new blood cycling through from across many dimensions for the castle to remain self-sustaining. That is why you and your cousins are here.”
I have about a million questions, and I hope Antonela asks some of them.
“What is graduation?” she asks instead.
Brálaga frowns with a grim displeasure. “You are familiar with the beings who reach into the castle from beyond, through the walls?” She nods in assent, cringing as she darts a glance at the fleshy red walls. “They are not outsiders, nor are they attacking us,” says Brálaga. “They are your predecessors.”
