Moonlight Castle

Kazimir drifted between agony and fevered nightmares.
One moment, he was lost in memories of his past. The next, he was awake—sweating, convulsing, his body betraying him. And always, through the haze of his suffering, he saw her. The knight. Watching over him with her calm, pale-grey eyes.

Over time, the moments of wakefulness grew longer. The pain, though ever-present, dulled enough for him to finally form words.

Kazimir swallowed, his throat dry as dust. He forced himself to speak.
"Who... are you?"

The knight studied him in silence. Her snow-white hair fell over her shoulder as she tilted her head, as if deciding whether to answer.

Then, with the weight of something long rehearsed, she finally spoke.

"I am Selisara Lunastra, Princess of Umbrax."

Kazimir stared at her, his thoughts sluggish. Umbrax? The ancient kingdom?
It made no sense. His mind flooded with questions, but one burned brighter than the rest.

"Why... why did you save me?"

Selisara blinked, momentarily puzzled by the question. Then, a faint, almost imperceptible smile touched her lips.

"Why?" she repeated. "Are you not from Umbrax? Are you not my last remaining subject?"

Kazimir’s breath hitched. His last remaining subject? The weight of her words sank into him, heavy and strange.

But there was still one question he needed answered.
"Why did you stab me?"

This time, Selisara hesitated. She brushed a strand of white hair from her eyes, exhaling softly.

"To save your life."

Kazimir frowned.
"Save my life? How does stabbing me count as saving me?"

She didn’t answer immediately. Instead, she placed a calloused hand gently on his shoulder, her touch surprisingly warm.

"Can’t you feel it?" she murmured. "Your regenerated arm? Your connection to the castle?"

Kazimir’s eyes widened. He hadn’t noticed before—not through the pain and exhaustion—but now he felt it. A strange energy coursed through him, something ancient and vast.

Selisara’s voice remained steady. "That is how I saved you. By binding you to the castle, letting it heal you. But the connection required blood. More blood than you had already spilled."

The truth sank in. The altar. The symbols. The pain. It all made sense now.

And yet—there was still something he couldn’t shake. A lingering unease.
"When you stabbed me… when my blood spilled onto the altar… I felt something more. It wasn’t just healing. It was like—" he struggled for the words. "Like my entire body was being rewritten."

Selisara looked away, her expression unreadable. But for the first time since he met her, there was something heavy in her gaze.

"Yes," she said at last. "That is the price."

Kazimir’s heart pounded. "What do you mean?"

Selisara let out a slow breath. "When I connected you to the castle… it also connected to you."

A cold feeling settled in his gut. "Meaning?"

Her grey eyes met his. "It means that your injuries are the castle’s injuries. And its strength… is now your strength."

Silence stretched between them.

"To put it simply," she continued, her voice quieter now, "your body wasn’t strong enough to withstand the castle’s power. That’s why you’re changing. It’s rewriting you. Making you strong enough to survive it."

Kazimir’s hands curled into fists. Rewriting him.

He had escaped death. But at what cost?