The turrets of the castle formed a jagged outline against the night sky. The full moon hung low in the sky, giving the castle and its immediate surroundings an aura of menace. The only sound breaking the stillness of the night was a river that circled the castle and ran off into the distance. Except for a shadowy figure on a balcony of the castle, one might have said the place was devoid of life.
The figure leaned his arms against the cool granite walls. As such things go, he was a beautiful young man. His chin-length hair was blond and straight as a razor. His light blue eyes saw more than they would ever reveal. The attire he always chose to wear was simple but well tailored.
He closed his eyes, focusing on the soft noise of the river. The sound was soothing, giving him some sorely needed respite. Much of the events of the day resembled a dream. He could scarcely believe that the things had truly happened, but they had. He would neither be here nor newly crowned lord of this castle were it otherwise.
He shivered as a light wind began to blow. He opened his eyes and surveyed the river. The previous owner had christened it the Acheron and he saw no reason to change the name. The watery depths called to him, inviting him to seek solace in its arms. The call was tempting. It was a way out of the duties imposed on him by his newfound position. The wind, too, seemed to be full of inaudible voices urging him. Some encouraged him to plunge in the Acheron; others cajoled him to stay.
�Viktor! Come inside!� A voice broke into his thoughts. For a moment, he was unsure if it was real or imagined. The call was repeated again, and he knew it to be real. Now was the moment of decision. Heed the call binding him to the world or the voices entreating him to escape?
A moment passed. He squared his shoulders proceeded to enter the castle. In the years to come, he would often lament his decision. Even so, he would remember this night as the last time he had achieved some sort of peace.
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