[Askoga]: 89.Short Stories.The Castle of Ice

Note from the Author: This is another story inspired by a song, which can be found here: http://www.musmakers.com/79.Ice%20Castle?n=1135025730 It is one of my favorite songs of his, and I've long had this story brewing in my little head.

Ilan wanders through the huge, empty castle of ice, trailing his gloved fingers along the cold walls. From the first moment he’d stepped through the front gates, he knew the castle was empty. There was a great, timeless feeling about it, and a great emptiness. But it was not lonely, no. And Ilan wants to know why such an empty place isn’t lonely.

His heavy traveling cloak swirls as a gust of cold air hits him, and he turns to face a large room. He steps forward, awed. It is no longer as empty as it had seemed, and he can now see what had passed here, when humans inhabited this castle of ice. People waltz, dancing across the room, and the walls are covered in rich tapestries. A fire blazes cheerfully in the hearth. Ilan can almost feel the heat of it, and of the people. He reaches out, slowly exhaling, to touch one of the tapestries, but his fingers meet only ice. His breath is visible as he turns around, and he sees that the room is once again empty. Only a memory.

He proceeds onward, peeking into other rooms along the way, with idle curiosity. None draw him as the ballroom did, until he comes across the banquet hall. He wraps his cloak tightly about himself, feeling the cold keenly. As he enters the hall, his ears are assaulted by noise: people chattering away, the clinking of plates and goblets, the sound of music from a small band of musicians. He can smell the food, and his mouth waters. But he knows that this, like the last, is only a memory. So he merely watches, until this one, too, fades.

Now, immensely curious, Ilan moves about the castle, peering into the kitchens, the maid’s rooms, everywhere, so that he can see the memories of people that this great castle holds. Again, and yet again, he is shown shadows of times long past, shadows of people who no longer are able to fill these halls with memories. He wonders if perhaps the castle will again be inhabited, and a shadow-memory of himself will wander these halls, enchanting the people as their predecessors so enchanted him.

Then, as he climbs a set of stairs he spots a small object lying on the top step. He stoops and carefully grabs it. He sits on the step, to examine this object, and finds that it is simply a clock. And he smiles, knowing that time has no meaning in this castle, where the present can view the past as though it were today. He remains seated on the step for a while, musing, and holding the clock in his hands. Finally, he rises and leaves the castle, knowing now that even though it is empty, it will never be lonely. In his bag, he carries the small clock.