Skyrik awoke in a soft bed, the gentle flickering light of a nearby candle casting shadows on the canopy that rose above it. He suffered a moment of confusion as he struggled to realize where he was, before remembering the events that had led him to passing him out in the foyer of the manor. He felt that unconsciousness had probably been the most reasonable decision at the time, and he had no regrets. Now though, he felt oddly calm. Calmer than he felt was proper given the circumstances. He had been trapped by a curse, lost everything. His friends, his family, his entire life was gone from his reach. They would search for him and not even find a body to mourn over. They would forever be left wondering what had happened to him, while he was subject to whatever this abyssal curse might do to him. He shuddered at that, remembering what he had seen when he walked into the castle.

The door had opened on a grand hall, with a large table and a blazing fire that had felt welcoming until he realized that some of the objects in the room had seemed…off. It had hit him, moments before he lost consciousness, that many of the objects appeared to have some human characteristics. Disturbing as that had been, what had sent him into welcome oblivion was when he had seen what looked like a man who had been stretched and transformed into a dining chair, with a distinctive face carved from the wood of the back. The face had looked at him, carved eyes turning in his direction as the mouth had opened as if to speak, or to scream, he was not sure which. Around him had been many other objects, chairs, coat racks, a table, all having some clear spark of humanity in them. All of them had moved in some way toward him, either looking with eyes made of wood or stone or metal, or shifting as if they were still able to walk like they once had when they were made of flesh.

Clearly, the curse had turned its victims into furnishings for the castle, which was as bizarre as it was horrifying. He found himself briefly wondering what he might become. A teacup perhaps? Or tall candlestick? Maybe something useful, like an umbrella or a wheelbarrow. He thought of the forge he had seen outside and shuddered at the thought of life as an anvil. Then again, it was hard to hurt an anvil, and it might be preferable to the life of a chair. Having hot iron beaten into you or getting sat on for all eternity, what a choice that would be to make! He smiled slightly, and was surprised at how the thought no longer seemed to be as emotionally disturbing as it had been. Maybe that was part of the curse? Like a biting insect that numbs the skin as it intrudes, seeking blood. He would have to ask Yashik.

Almost as if thinking of the Beast had summoned him, the door creaked open and the massive horned head poked into the room. “Oh good, you’re awake.” The head was followed by the rest of his host, holding a silver tray in his massive, oddly proportioned hands. Those hands looked like they could wrap all around Skyrik, and likely crush him without much effort. They were gnarled, and scarred, showing signs of hard use and damage. It looks like he’s been using them to fight a threshing machine, Skyrik thought. The tray the Beast held did not have a face, thankfully, and instead had some small sandwiches and what looked like a steaming pot of tea in a fine porcelain teapot. Yashik placed the tray on a table at the side of the room which had two chairs next to it, and then picked up the single lit candle and began walking around the room lighting others. Soon, their surroundings were lit in a cheery glow that belied the grim nature of their cursed existence. Climbing from the bed, Skyrik helped himself to a sandwich and plopped into one of the well-stuff chairs, after checking it carefully for a personality. It had none, beyond that of a well-loved comfortable sitting place. He sank gratefully into its warmth, and began to eat his sandwich. Yashik poured tea for both of them, the tiny cups looking almost comical in his massive fingers. They sat in a comfortable silence, drinking their tea and going through sandwiches until the platter was empty of all but the remains. Again, the level of comfort he felt around the terrifying creature he found himself drinking tea with struck the boy as odd, but he was grateful for it. He decided to be the first to break the silence.

“Why am I not more scared right now? It seems like I should be feeling a lot worse than I do. Is that normal?”

Yashik considered a moment before he answered. “Normal? I don’t believe there is much here that would fit that word, not in a long time. But, I do believe that the Manor at least, has something of a calming effect on those within. My mother’s doing, likely.” An enormous hand lifted to touch the large scar that ran down the side of his face. “Although certainly the original form of the curse may have had some such built into it, parasite that it is. But no, likely that’s one of the modifications she made.”

“Your mother?” The simple question did not even begin to address all the curiosity that boiled in Sykik.

“Yes, she was Baroness Zevir, Mistress of Droigheann Castle, Holder of the Root Key. Tesuna was her name, and she was known as a powerful mage, specializing in living things. Not much affinity for metals or the elements, but she grew such amazing plants, you wouldn’t believe. You can see the results of her work all over the castle grounds, although everything beyond the walls is outside of her control, and either reclaimed by the woods or twisted by the curse. Unfortunately, her abilities weren’t a match for the curse brought home by my father, so she did her best to mitigate the harm, but wasn’t able to stop it completely. She did all she could, but it wasn’t enough.” He leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees. “Since I lost her, and my father died..” he paused there, beastial face twisting in an expression that Skyrik didn’t know how to interpret. “Well, I’ve done my best to hold back the curse on my own. But it’s a battle I fear I am losing.” He went on to explain to his young guest how the curse worked, as he understood it.

There was an area around the castle that seemed to repel anything living, but the occasional animal would still wander through. Once inside the curse, the creature would change, warping and twisting into a grotesque caricature of its original form. Once the curse had fully transformed the beast, it would go out and attempt to drive other living things into the curse area. Thus the occasional animal would quickly turn into a savage horde of monsters, roaming the countryside like a macabre recruiting party. Occasionally, they would come across a human and attempt to collect them as well, like the bear had brought Skyrik. Sometimes they would kill their quarry, but most of the time the intent of the curse seemed to be collection and transformation. The Baron speculated that the curse was attempting to build to a critical mass of living beings, that at some point it would have a sufficient number of pawns and it would send them out to wreak havoc on the countryside.

He also revealed that his mother, a green mage of significant achievement, had made some modifications to the curse. The obscuring screen that hid the castle and surrounding areas were one, and the other was what happened to the unfortunate humans who were trapped on cursed ground. Instead of deforming into monsters like the animals of the forest, people would change into objects one might find in a castle. Chairs, wardrobes, doors, household items such as cookware or chandeliers, gardening tools, weapons, and also living things. Half the plants in the garden had once been villagers or merchants driven into the magical snare by the twisted beasts.

“For that reason, if no other, I ask that you not disturb or harm any living thing within the castle grounds. Many of them were once dear friends or servants, or perhaps even people you may yourself have met in your life outside these walls. By the same token, take care not to abuse the furniture. It is more obvious with those objects, as many of them retain at least some resemblance to the person they once were, but you can’t always tell. Once you’ve been here a while, you’ll know what footstools you can rest your legs on and which you’d best not.”

Skyrik looked up quickly from an uneasy examination he had been making of the chair beneath him. “Is anything here…”

Laughing, Yashik spoke quickly to reassure the boy. “No, there are no such things in this room. You may also find that many of the people in the castle still retain some of their will, their memories, and can even communicate after their own fashion. Should you find the time, I recommend introducing yourself around.”

“Do you know what I might become? No offense to anyone else here, but I truly dislike the idea of becoming a spittoon or chamber pot, if those are indeed options.”

Yashik laughed again, but with less mirth this time. “I imagine they are, although no one yet has been so additionally afflicted. I cannot predict what may happen to you Skyrik, but I assure you we will do our best to preoccupy your mind until that day comes. Who knows, perhaps you will be the one to figure out a way to end this abyssal curse, and free us all!”

The boy snorted. “I doubt it very much. I’m not the type for solving puzzles or mysteries. Now, if my friend Krosa were here I think we’d have a chance, although even she might not be able to unravel this one.” He lapsed into silence at the momentary pang that came from mentioning even a small piece of what he had so recently lost.

“Now she sounds interesting! You’ll have to tell me all about her, some other time. I have had little interactions with what lies outside this cursed forest, so I admit I hunger for tales of life, even ordinary, simple stories that you might not even consider important. Prepare yourself, for if you let me I will pick the most boring anecdotes from your brain like meat from the bone, and boil your memories in search of the sweet marrow of mundanity, which I so desperately lack.” The monstrous man swept his arms out in a dramatic gesture, sighing, “Ah! To live a live bereft of such interesting and epic events as that which has befallen me! To simply sit quietly with my books and read them, and to have no bigger concerns than what I should have for dinner, or how bountiful the harvest has been!” His soft gaze, so human in that inhuman face, raised to the ceiling as if in supplication, as he clasped his enormous hands in his lap and said “May we all find such peace, someday.”

The room lapsed into near silence, only the slight crackle from the fire breaking the stillness that settled down on the two like a benediction. After long minutes had passed in reflection, the boy asked, “So what do I do now? I am…was, an apprentice blacksmith, and I’m not bad at hunting if I have a sling. But do you even need anything like that here?”

Yashik nodded thoughtfully. “Were you of my mind, you could likely spend all your time here just in the library. It is a magnificent collection, or so I’ve been led to understand. But I think you may be happier in physical pursuits, and there are many available. The castle maintains itself, as do the grounds. But if you care to craft in the forge, or try your hand at any number of other trades, we have the facilities, although some may be overgrown. Indeed, I can think of a few things I could use from a blacksmith, as one has never been caught up here since the curse took us. I’ve got many books on the subject though, so perhaps between what I’ve read and what you’ve done, we might while away some time in the shaping of metals. There is also hunting to be done, although I do not know that you are prepared for the kind of hunting I must do, nor are you likely to become so before the curse changes you. But perhaps I may be wrong, that is yet to be seen. How about tomorrow we clear out the old forge and see what we can make?”

The boy nodded agreeably, and finding himself still exhausted, found himself yawing. This prompted his host to bid him a good night, and Skyrik returned to the warm bed and slept soundly until the morning sun was well in the sky.

Yashik on the other hand, did not sleep that night.