“Do not go gentle into that good night,

Old age should burn and rave at close of day;

Rage, rage against the dying of the light.”

(Dylan Thomas)

Chapter 1

The sounds of the  main portal closing echoed muffled through the great hall, like the drum of a bell that hadn’t been rung for a long time. Dust bunnies that were disrupted by the sudden airflow danced slowly over the floor, in the few rays of sunlight that broke their way through the sealed shut windows which towered over the once grand room. They looked like little fairies.

The noise has not only disturbed the dust and dirt of the last years, the vibration made the spiderwebs on the old candelabra shiver and the shadows in the corner of the throne mumble nervously. 

After all the time of neglect, something new has entered the ancient castle at the top of the steep mountain. Something that now moved their tiny little fist in the blanket and wrinkled their forehead before a thin but demanding cry let everyone know between the old granite stone walls that there is indeed still some life in this place.

The princess sat up straight like a candle in her room as the cry thundered through the hallways. Was that it? The end of times? Has death already come to take her? How long has she been sleeping? Since they stopped bringing the weekly provisions she had grown weaker and weaker and needed more rest than usual. She stumbled out of her pile of pillows on the floor of the library, closest to the main hall, in hopes she could hear the soldiers arriving for the needed delivery, and slowly made her way to the room. 

And indeed there it was. The usual basket of food and a second one, which was now howling like a caged banshee on a funeral day.

For a second she hesitated but the hunger was greater, so she lifted her long white gown to rush over to the basket.

As she bowed over the closest one she didn’t see the usual apples and bread, but a small pink face who stopped crying nearly immediately when it saw her.

“You’re an ugly piece of bacon, little one,” the princess mumbled as she reached down to carefully lift the baby out of the cradle. 

“How am I supposed to eat you, huh?” She joked, “ you’re way too loud to make a good sandwich.” The baby gurgled something happily as a reply, while it was positioned on a hip. With her free hand the princess pulled a piece of bread out of the other basket. “At least they thought of the rest of the sandwich, guess I’ll stick with that one.” 

A baby of all things. Not quite a baby baby anymore, she could see a tooth or two already in that tiny mouth. But her experiences with infants was more than limited given that she was shut in in the castle all the time. While rummaging through the groceries her fingertips brushed over some paper. A letter. Addressed to her. 

Some scribbled lines, difficult to read from the long transport. She recognised her name and that the baby was a boy and… a relative.

She looked down at the boy on her hip who made bubbles with his own spit. 

“Are you… my brother?” More bubbles were the only reply she got.

“Seems like they called you Willam little one, but I'll call you Bubbles until you're old enough to complain,” she giggled. She had definitely been too long alone with herself. At least now she seemed less crazy talking to William and not to herself all the time. Not that the pigeons who passed through the building seemed to mind. Or the old moth eaten tapestry on the wall.

Even though she only had some vague memories of how to raise a child from her mother’s explanations, she remembered that they seemed to like milk a lot, and porridge. And… she sniffed at the blanket, wrinkling her nose in disgust, diapers.

Fortunately there was some milk in the basket and some white powder which turned out to be the same but dried. And even a bottle. So whoever placed the child here, at least had spent enough thoughts to supply her with the new needs. She even found some fresh cloth for diapers.

After a disastrous first try to change diapers but a happily squealing and dry Bubbles, she ventured through the library trying to find some books on how to raise little humans. Her long dress dragged behind her, leaving traces in the dust. The Baby rocking in her arms was starting to doze off. The section with the fiction she knew by heart. She even read most of the books about airships out of boredom once. Nearly stumbling over a forgotten pile of books, she finally found the part about medicine and health. And after some searching, even books on raising babies. 

It can't be that difficult then. She was equipped now with everything she needed!

Book, Baby, food and diapers! What could go wrong? Humans raise children all the time and it seems to work, that's why there are so many of them.

Determined she sat down, the sleeping baby cuddled in her lap, and started to read.

After three days she started to understand why the housemaids in the past with young children always looked like they were on the brink of crying from exhaustion.

After a week she started crying with William too as he woke her for the sixth time that night because his next teeth were pushing. 

In hindsight she had no idea how she managed. At least the weekly delivery of food came regularly again. So one less thing to stress about. After reading that children need a clean environment she even moved them to the servants quarter because the rooms were smaller and easier to heat and clean. And the running water and coal cellar were close by. 

That the coal was running low was a problem for future her. She knew there were some trees around the castle's inner walls, which she could still access so she would probably learn how to cut them if necessary. 

In the end the first months passed just fine. After some starting issues she found a rhythm with William and the boy grew well, he even started to twist and turn more than before, and did his first tries to crawl around the little room they shared.

The princess was more than excited when he started to pull himself up on the bed and their small cupboard and even did a few wobbly steps when she held his hands, followed by more bubbles and squeaking like he always did when he was happy. 

Until one day the squealing stopped.

She woke up before him which was unusual, and from the light that shone through the curtains it was already broad daylight outside.

There was no toddler hopping on her belly, no excited noises. Just silence besides the birds outside who sang in the morning sun. It was the end of winter, everything started to get back to life except Willam wo was nestled next to her, breathing heavily, burning up in a fever.

Panic washed over the princess like an ocean tide. She read about illnesses, of course she had, it was described in the books. He even had a runny nose during winter which she could treat just fine. The garden contained at least a few herbs which grew wild since it was abandoned. But a fever? 

The little boy was burning up more and more during the next hours even though she tried to cool him down with wet towels. By the evening he had grown weaker and weaker. Breathing barely visible.

In her desperation she ran to the main portal, hammering with her fist against the old black wooden door. 

“Someone!” She screamed. "Please! Is there someone? I need help!” After several attempts which left her hands bleeding from the rough wood she sank sobbing to the floor. 

It can't be happening again. Her eyes flickered over the wood, recognising old scratches from bloody fingernails of a past she had tried to forget. 

In horror she got up again, stumbling away from the door. There must be another way. But she knew there wasn't, the castle's fortification was impenetrable on both sides. Even a more advanced climber could never pass the tall granite walls. How the church could enter and take her parents and everyone she has known away was still a riddle to her. Hectically she looked around. What else was there to do? The image of another grave, a smaller one this time, rose before her inner eye. She let out another desperate scream, as she heard a voice coming from the grand staircase at the other end of the hall.

“You want my help this time, princess?”

She shouldn't. She mustn't! She remembered her father, holding her by the shoulders, shaking her, screaming at her in terror to NEVER do anything the voice offered. To never venture in the lower parts of the castle.

But her father wasn't here anymore.

But Bubbles, Willam was. Laying in their bed, dying.

Slowly, she walked in the direction of the staircase. Shakingly taking a hold of the stairs handle, made of stone like the rest of the place. Looking one last time back to the closed portal. But no response from outside, no wondrous opening.

She turned and took the first step. Down into the intestines of the ancient castle. 

Away from the light. 

To get help. For Willam.