Chapter 4: The Castle That Wasn't Quiet
[story and art by Andy]
As a birthday treat for my beloved Fin, I bring back a saga from an ancient era. The adventures of Maika and Aiden were one of the earliest forms of flirtations between us. Full of sass, cursing and maximum chaos, these stories have been different from our regular stories, especially since we both write chapters for it.
So Fin, my beloved Elf. Happy birthday you beautiful bastard, I love you so very much. Enjoy the chaos, with so much love from your unruly Wolf.
So Fin, my beloved Elf. Happy birthday you beautiful bastard, I love you so very much. Enjoy the chaos, with so much love from your unruly Wolf.
Rain whispered across the Scottish Highlands, soft as breath, cold as judgment.
The loch below was still, save for the occasional swirl from a very large, very nosy cryptid.
Two figures stumbled out of the fading portal, soaked, muddy, and already tired beyond their years.
Aiden shook water out of his hair like a disgruntled golden retriever.
Maika watched him, expression frosty and fond in equal measure.
Then his gaze lifted to the looming silhouette ahead.
And he stopped dead.
“Oh absolutely not,” Maika announced. “Whatever that glowing stone nightmare is, I refuse.”
Aiden followed his gaze.
The castle rose through the mist like a sulking titan, massive, ancient, and pulsing with runic veins of blue-green light.
Aiden’s face lit up.
“I love it, it's magnificent.”
Maika blinked at him.
“You would. Big, dramatic, dangerous… structurally irresponsible.
Basically your entire personality in castle form.”
Aiden smirked, stepping closer to him.
“You think about my personality often, do you?”
“I think,” Maika said coolly, “about how to survive it.”
Aiden grinned wider.
Which was exactly why Maika muttered something in Elvish that definitely wasn’t polite.
And then Aiden took off at a run.
“Aiden!” Maika hissed. “You cannot just sprint toward the suspiciously glowing murder-castle!”
“Why not?!”
“Because...!” Maika flung his hands up.
“Because everything in our lives is a trap!”
Aiden laughed, even as the rain plastered his shirt to his chest.
“Exactly! And I want to get there before the trap closes!”
Maika briefly, earnestly, considered throwing a rock at him.
Instead, he followed.
---
As they crossed the heather, the castle resolved through the storm:
• Runes carved like claw marks
• A bridge repairing itself as they neared
• An archway shimmering with silver-green light
• A very distinct feeling that the castle was… watching them
Aiden stopped abruptly.
Maika, who’d been glaring at Aiden’s very broad back, walked straight into him.
“For the love of the stars.. warn me when you....”
“Shh.”
Maika’s eye twitched.
“Aiden. If you ever shush me again...”
“No really.” Aiden tilted his head. “Do you hear that?”
Maika inhaled slowly.
At first: nothing.
Then
A hum.
A whisper.
A chorus of distant voices rippling through stone and rain:
Avalon calls.
The way is open.
Enter, chosen ones.
Maika blinked.
“…Is Avalon always this dramatic?”
Aiden shrugged.
“No idea. Never been.”
“Wonderful,” Maika said.
“We’re taking directions from a singing archway.”
Aiden smirked.
“Hey, we’ve taken directions from worse.”
Maika could not argue.
---
They reached the great archway.
Water streamed down its carved runes.
The air inside shimmered like a mirage.
Aiden extended a hand.
The archway threw him into a puddle.
Magically.
Forcefully.
And with enthusiasm.
Aiden sat there, dripping, blinking rain out of his eyelashes.
“…Well fuck you too.”
Maika folded his arms, serene as a monk.
“Finally. Something in this universe with standards.”
Aiden glared up at him.
“I swear to every god in every pantheon.. Maika, get in the puddle with me.”
“Absolutely not.”
“We’re not leaving until it lets me in.”
Maika raised a brow.
“I wasn’t suggesting we leave. I was enjoying the view.”
Aiden sputtered.
“I... you... THAT IS NOT..”
Maika very delicately did not smile.
---
A voice drifted down from the ramparts.
“Oh, this is tragic. Stop arguing with the door, you two. You’re embarrassing yourselves.”
Both froze.
Both groaned.
Both looked up.
“Oh no,” they said together.
There, standing atop the parapet, silhouetted by lightning as if the storm itself were his spotlight, was Grovomil.
Chaos Gnome.
Agent of irritation.
Tiny harbinger of melodrama.
He wore a cloak too large for him, stylishly curled boots, and an expression that said he’d been waiting all evening for someone to ruin.
He struck a pose.
Maika dragged a hand over his face.
“Why? Why is it always him?”
Aiden rose from the mud, dripping and furious.
“What do you want now you prick, you fucking sinister little fungus?”
Grovomil gasped theatrically.
“Such language! Such barbarism! And in front of a holy gateway!”
He pressed a hand to his chest.
“I’m positively scandalised.”
Aiden rolled his shoulders.
“Get down here so I can punt you into the fucking loch.”
Grovomil giggled.
Actually giggled.
“Oh darling, no. I would, but I’m terribly busy managing the gateway to Avalon.
It requires sophistication. Elegance. A certain flair.”
He fluttered his fingers.
“Qualities neither of you possess.”
Aiden growled.
Maika muttered, “Ignore him. He feeds on attention.”
Grovomil beamed.
“I do.”
Aiden barked, “What did you do to the doorway?!”
Grovomil looked offended.
“Me? Nothing! Well… nothing terrible. I simply keyed it.”
“Keyed it,” Aiden repeated flatly.
“Yes.” Grovomil smirked.
“To respond only to worthy souls.”
His eyes sparkled with malice.
“Which explains why it yeeted you into a puddle.”
Aiden took one step forward, murder shimmering in his aura.
Maika grabbed his arm.
“No. Not yet. Save it. We may need his body to jam a mechanism later.”
Grovomil blew them a kiss.
“Shall we begin?”
The archway pulsed, bright, ancient, impatient.
The castle shuddered.
Wind tore through their cloaks.
Aiden muttered,
“I should’ve fucking stayed doing you in the loch.”
Maika sighed.
“And yet here we are.”
The gateway flared.
The storm rose.
And just like that
their Highland Avalon adventure began.
To be continued...
The loch below was still, save for the occasional swirl from a very large, very nosy cryptid.
Two figures stumbled out of the fading portal, soaked, muddy, and already tired beyond their years.
Aiden shook water out of his hair like a disgruntled golden retriever.
Maika watched him, expression frosty and fond in equal measure.
Then his gaze lifted to the looming silhouette ahead.
And he stopped dead.
“Oh absolutely not,” Maika announced. “Whatever that glowing stone nightmare is, I refuse.”
Aiden followed his gaze.
The castle rose through the mist like a sulking titan, massive, ancient, and pulsing with runic veins of blue-green light.
Aiden’s face lit up.
“I love it, it's magnificent.”
Maika blinked at him.
“You would. Big, dramatic, dangerous… structurally irresponsible.
Basically your entire personality in castle form.”
Aiden smirked, stepping closer to him.
“You think about my personality often, do you?”
“I think,” Maika said coolly, “about how to survive it.”
Aiden grinned wider.
Which was exactly why Maika muttered something in Elvish that definitely wasn’t polite.
And then Aiden took off at a run.
“Aiden!” Maika hissed. “You cannot just sprint toward the suspiciously glowing murder-castle!”
“Why not?!”
“Because...!” Maika flung his hands up.
“Because everything in our lives is a trap!”
Aiden laughed, even as the rain plastered his shirt to his chest.
“Exactly! And I want to get there before the trap closes!”
Maika briefly, earnestly, considered throwing a rock at him.
Instead, he followed.
---
As they crossed the heather, the castle resolved through the storm:
• Runes carved like claw marks
• A bridge repairing itself as they neared
• An archway shimmering with silver-green light
• A very distinct feeling that the castle was… watching them
Aiden stopped abruptly.
Maika, who’d been glaring at Aiden’s very broad back, walked straight into him.
“For the love of the stars.. warn me when you....”
“Shh.”
Maika’s eye twitched.
“Aiden. If you ever shush me again...”
“No really.” Aiden tilted his head. “Do you hear that?”
Maika inhaled slowly.
At first: nothing.
Then
A hum.
A whisper.
A chorus of distant voices rippling through stone and rain:
Avalon calls.
The way is open.
Enter, chosen ones.
Maika blinked.
“…Is Avalon always this dramatic?”
Aiden shrugged.
“No idea. Never been.”
“Wonderful,” Maika said.
“We’re taking directions from a singing archway.”
Aiden smirked.
“Hey, we’ve taken directions from worse.”
Maika could not argue.
---
They reached the great archway.
Water streamed down its carved runes.
The air inside shimmered like a mirage.
Aiden extended a hand.
The archway threw him into a puddle.
Magically.
Forcefully.
And with enthusiasm.
Aiden sat there, dripping, blinking rain out of his eyelashes.
“…Well fuck you too.”
Maika folded his arms, serene as a monk.
“Finally. Something in this universe with standards.”
Aiden glared up at him.
“I swear to every god in every pantheon.. Maika, get in the puddle with me.”
“Absolutely not.”
“We’re not leaving until it lets me in.”
Maika raised a brow.
“I wasn’t suggesting we leave. I was enjoying the view.”
Aiden sputtered.
“I... you... THAT IS NOT..”
Maika very delicately did not smile.
---
A voice drifted down from the ramparts.
“Oh, this is tragic. Stop arguing with the door, you two. You’re embarrassing yourselves.”
Both froze.
Both groaned.
Both looked up.
“Oh no,” they said together.
There, standing atop the parapet, silhouetted by lightning as if the storm itself were his spotlight, was Grovomil.
Chaos Gnome.
Agent of irritation.
Tiny harbinger of melodrama.
He wore a cloak too large for him, stylishly curled boots, and an expression that said he’d been waiting all evening for someone to ruin.
He struck a pose.
Maika dragged a hand over his face.
“Why? Why is it always him?”
Aiden rose from the mud, dripping and furious.
“What do you want now you prick, you fucking sinister little fungus?”
Grovomil gasped theatrically.
“Such language! Such barbarism! And in front of a holy gateway!”
He pressed a hand to his chest.
“I’m positively scandalised.”
Aiden rolled his shoulders.
“Get down here so I can punt you into the fucking loch.”
Grovomil giggled.
Actually giggled.
“Oh darling, no. I would, but I’m terribly busy managing the gateway to Avalon.
It requires sophistication. Elegance. A certain flair.”
He fluttered his fingers.
“Qualities neither of you possess.”
Aiden growled.
Maika muttered, “Ignore him. He feeds on attention.”
Grovomil beamed.
“I do.”
Aiden barked, “What did you do to the doorway?!”
Grovomil looked offended.
“Me? Nothing! Well… nothing terrible. I simply keyed it.”
“Keyed it,” Aiden repeated flatly.
“Yes.” Grovomil smirked.
“To respond only to worthy souls.”
His eyes sparkled with malice.
“Which explains why it yeeted you into a puddle.”
Aiden took one step forward, murder shimmering in his aura.
Maika grabbed his arm.
“No. Not yet. Save it. We may need his body to jam a mechanism later.”
Grovomil blew them a kiss.
“Shall we begin?”
The archway pulsed, bright, ancient, impatient.
The castle shuddered.
Wind tore through their cloaks.
Aiden muttered,
“I should’ve fucking stayed doing you in the loch.”
Maika sighed.
“And yet here we are.”
The gateway flared.
The storm rose.
And just like that
their Highland Avalon adventure began.
To be continued...
