The Castle of Silks

fantasy, fairytale-aesthetic, tragedy, family, communication

A father trades all his money for a magical scarf that leads his family to the legendary Castle of Silks. But, as the bards sing, Is it empty of souls? Or the empty-er of souls?

When I was a baker selling bread to a dying village, I found a stranger lurking behind my shop. I think he was scarred, and maybe his eyes looked older than his skin, but all I saw was his copper-colored scarf—under the sun, it shimmered red and gold, and that little slip of silk must’ve been worth at least three lives. I don’t remember approaching him, but when my fingers closed around the slippery material, he spun and seized my wrist. “You want my scarf!” 

I tried to pull away, but he smiled, showing too many teeth. “Tell you what, friend. It’s no scarf. It’s a flag, taken from the legendary Castle of Silks. For centuries, it hung limp from the Castle’s pinnacle. It never flew, not until… now.”

A breeze pulled at my hair and clothes. The scarf caught the wind, reaching towards the breeze. 

The stranger closed his fist around the scarf, halting its fluttering. “I lived there for years, but… eventually I had to leave. I only took one token of reminder—a ‘compass’ that points to the castle.”

“The scarf.” I reached for it without thinking, but he stepped back, leaving me stumbling. “I’ll pay,” I said, and he smiled at the hunger in my eyes. 

My wife used to tell me her favorite legends, back when we were children. After sunset, I’d run to the sea cliffs and join Agno, always staring out over the edge. She had a heavy smile, but it lightened when she regaled me with fantastical myths. 

She’d say, “The Castle of Silks stands above a valley of red and gold aspens, where Hunger and Hardship were exiled millennia ago. Within, a thousand discarded projects crafted by goddesses cover every surface—silks and jacquards, tapestries, a statue made only of feathers.” She’d grab my hands and squeeze them tight so her body wouldn’t fly away with her mind. “Imagine us dancing under an organza chandelier! Or—or in its library, I’d learn to write and record the secrets of every plant in the woods. And the food would be plentiful—we’d never rise early to knead dough. But… I’d probably wake anyways, to watch the pink clouds wash away the stars.” 

Now, we never found time to talk. After endless workdays, I fell asleep counting our savings, and she was left to tuck in our child, Enkio. 

There was no money to count that night. Agno shrieked at the dust outline where our savings had been. “If he’d wanted more, would you have sold me? Sold our son? You might as well have. Mioklon—you’ve killed us for a legend.”

She was crying, so I held her tight, and I whispered her stories back to her. But she wouldn’t listen. “Our village is built precariously close to jagged sea cliffs, where Winter and War steal from us constantly,” she told me, “These roads are salted with sea spray, as are the fields, but it’s our home. Within, hungry but hardy people work towards the future. We save up to save our children. We promised Enkio would be the first in our family that goes to school.”

“The money’s gone,” I said, scarf nudging me towards the eastern mountains. “We have nothing left here.” But Agno retreated with the westward breeze, disappearing into the shadows of the village streets.

I brought Enkio to the sea cliffs, where Agno sat leaning over the edge. I thought about apologizing, but what would that do? Make her more determined we should stay? We couldn’t. I let the soft brushes of the scarf soothe the doubt prickling in my guts. “Agno… this is a world of numbers, a game we will never win. Let’s leave—try the world of chance! There’s something special about this scarf. I think we’ll finally get everything we wished for.”

She huffed.

“What other choice do we have?”

Agno looked down, where the waves broke over the rocks, forward, where distant cities of movement and money sparkled, and back, where the village was lost in darkness. Slowly, she stood, taking Enkio into her arms. Her eyes stopped straining to see the village that was no longer there. Her words were flat. “Where do we go?”

I hugged her wind-chilled shoulders, scarf rustling between my smile and her hair. “When the wind blows, follow the scarf.”

Fall turned us bitter and quiet. The scarf led us across narrow mountain ledges and deep into uninhabited lands. The streams pushed thin crusts of muddy ice around, and the wrinkling berries became sickly sweet. Once, Agno slumped over after swallowing a few of what I later identified as deadly nightshades. For someone so well-versed in nature, it was a strange mistake to make, but our shrinking stomachs grew louder than our thoughts. 

One night, while Agno tucked Enkio into a bundle of scrappy blankets, I watched the darkness rise from the east. But as the sky darkened, flecks of light appeared on the horizon—golden warmth pouring out of glass windows and stone archways. 

“The Castle of Silks!” I screamed with laughter, casting aside my filthy, threadbare blanket. Agno and Enkio blinked sleepily—until they saw the lights in the distance. “We’re here!” I cried out. I grabbed Agno and Enkio by the wrists and pulled them after me—almost annoyed that they were slower, that I couldn’t be there already. We slid and tumbled down the side of a hill that blended from snow to slush to crunchy red and gold leaves, and then—

For the first time, the scarf around my neck lay still. 

The Castle could’ve been built of sand or even diamonds for all we knew, because every surface was heaped with dazzling textiles. The walls were a riot of colors—decorated in vibrant hangings and crepe ornamentation and draperies that led to nowhere. From the ceiling hung tulle and beaded lace. And somehow, when the slush melted off our boots, it crept over the uneven stacks of tufted rugs and out the door behind us, not even leaving a speck. 

“It’s… colorful,” Enkio said.

Agno blinked. “It almost hurts my eyes to take it in.”

I only laughed. I threw my arms wide, fingers curling around the space that was all mine.

TO BE CONTINUED…

This is just an excerpt; contact me if you want to read the rest! But if you want a happy ending… I’ll warn you, you may want to call it quits here…