A lonely castle standing atop the world, palatial, and with its grandeur silently carrying a weight of authority that steeped the very air itself in what could only be termed as inviolable dignity. Though, at first glance, the silence might have been because of how empty it was.
It had many buildings, courtyards, and pavilions, with one such building sitting behind the heavy one at the center of the construct, elegant in contrast. One moment, its backyard was empty, devoid of any presence, just like the rest of the silent castle, and in the next, a foot appeared from the void, a man's foot, clad in a combat boot.
*Tap*
The metallic boot touched the marbled floor with a deceptively light sound, marring it with the dark red sludge dripping off it like a gory paint refusing to dry, before the rest of the body followed, freeing itself from the faint ripples as if from another world beyond them. The man was wearing a suit of armor complementing the dirty boot, his posture straight and solemn like the heavy spear he was holding at rest with his left hand, its tip pointed toward the floor. The latter bore traces of battles, with only its pointy blade remaining unnaturally sharp and clean, devoid of any trace that would dull its murderous shine. The armor too was wreathed in cracks, painted with blood in a gory portrait of wounds inflicted and blows traded at the same place the dirtying sludge came from.
The armored knight's face was obscured by the darkness of the helmet covering his head. Despite that, his unflinching demeanor could not be hidden away, like a general used to the pain, who could die, but would never be broken. He swept his gaze around, then stepped onto the paved path to the door of the elegant building he had appeared before.
With clear clangings ringing in the silence, he advanced to the door and pushed it in with his right hand covered in the same dark combat glove as his left one which gripped the spear. He stepped over the doorway and into the darkness beyond, leaving behind the grim prints of his steps on the path that the shadow of his red cape had covered for a moment.
Silence returned outside, as, inside, orbs hanging on the walls started lighting up as if to welcome it, shining dimly on his battered golden armor, his cape whooshing behind him, recounting a tale of honor fought for, not given, defended, not begged for. Walking through the corridors, the lights behind him dimmed, letting the ones in front take over the task of lighting up the path of silent but glorious return.
The footprints darkened as the warm-carpeted floor absorbed the moisture from the sludge. They trailed through the majority of the building and went on to stop before a quaint, ajar wooden door. A sound of pages being turned came from within, while a warm light accompanying the only sign of life in the building till now leaked through the gap.
The armored knight pushed the door open and walked into what might as well have been a library rather than the study it actually was, one filled with the comfortable smell of paper and ink. The place was filled with the soft quiet any mind would need to relax, then bloom with enlightenment.
The armored spear-wielder calmly looked around the office, before letting his gaze fall on the only one inside, a dark-haired man on the couch beside the window, with a table beside him under the window to welcome the soft light from outside, and a bookshelf behind him.
As his cape settled down, and the man with a book opened on his crossed lap by the window raised his head, the armored knight raised his unoccupied hand to free his own head of dark hair from the helmet that had been hiding his features.
"Welcome back, First."
Unlike the knight, the man lounging on the couch was dressed casually, sporting a smile as he greeted after placing a hand on the book he had now placed face down, under the light coming in from the window.
'First', as he had been called, didn't only have the dark hair in common with the man looking younger than him. Even their eyes were of the same deep blue, and their features had enough similarities that no one would doubt their sibling relationship upon seeing them. Only, he was not smiling.
He nodded at the greeting, then went straight to the point. He didn't ask about the empty castle, but about something seemingly irrelevant:
"Second. Is grandfather back?"
'Second' asked back with a light smile:
"Something happened, I suppose?"
'First' went to the side to put his helmet down as he replied:
"Third was guarding the rear when he suddenly disappeared. Only grandfather could have done that without a fight that would have shaken the realm, even in our little brother's weakened state. And right after that, many presences disappeared, including Mother's."
"And I suppose the angry princess who hates our Mother for reasons still unknown to us and wants to destroy us with her small realm also disappeared, putting a stop to the battle?"
'First' didn't answer, but his placid gaze said all there was to say.
'Second' shook his head and, under his elder brother's gaze, explained with unconcealed amusement:
"Grandfather did come back, and he got angry when he saw the war father's mistake caused. He made a brief stop here, then left, saying he would put an end to it."
'First' froze, because the war did stop, without force having been used. So…
"How?"
'Second' understood the question, and his smile grew deeper with amusement as he conveyed the answer:
"By bringing our two sides together."
A moment passed, then 'First' tiredly closed his eyes, and exhaled:
"He arranged the marriage of little Third and that princess?"
The question was more of a statement seeking an affirmation, and though 'Second' nodded — his amusement only growing further — 'First' didn't really need the answer. Stymieing the slight frustration that rose, he commented:
"Third may seem uncaring, but deep down, he has rebellion in his blood. If not, the throne would not have been under regency till now even though he has been made the heir."
'Second' obviously agreed with that as he laughed:
"So grandfather must have taken some measures… like tying their fates together."
'First' opened his eyes, now calm again, and faced the amused smirk across from him:
"I guess the red string, the treasure of causality, has disappeared from the vault by now. And I suppose we will be part of those measures, while you have been left behind to wait for me."
There was no dissatisfaction or reluctance in the words of 'First', just composure after teasing apart all the available information. His steady deep blue eyes met the smiling eyes of the same color but slightly different tone of 'Second'. The silence that came between them didn't last however, though it never truly ended either. The world around them rippled then swallowed them while neither reacted, letting it happen with acceptance on one side, and amusement on the other.
Just like 'First' suddenly appeared in the rear courtyard of the empty castle earlier, the two siblings disappeared, leaving an empty study behind, along with an unfinished book which landed on the couch in a muffled goodbye.
Finally, the whole castle, as big as a small town, became totally empty, with truly no life inside anymore. It remained nestled on the peak at the center of the paradise-like realm, like the centermost jewel of a crown, shining a bright, dignified gold, with eight mountains around it guarding it like immovable spears with silver castles as their tips, teasing the azure vault of the realm like they were propping it up, like they had always been propping it up, unchanging, unaging.
Only the belts of fluffy clouds remained to accompany the everlasting mountains in the immortal realm from which starry roads left, only to lose themselves in the distant infinity.
Only silence remained in the pure realm whose very air screamed of the vitality it was filled with. Silence, and nothing else, as if to wait for the owners to come back, and bring life to it again.