Chapter 1: Emily and the Statues

There was little Emily liked better after a long and exhausting week than a luxurious scented bubble bath and a good book. The hot water seemed to soak all of her worldly stresses away, as she escaped into the work of her favorite romance author. Sure, it wasn’t high literature, but sometimes a girl needs to disappear into the life of an 18th-century heiress aboard a ship being attacked by pirates.

Just as the heroine was exchanging her first words with the roguishly handsome pirate captain, Emily was plunged into darkness. A jolt of fear shot up her spine and she sat upright in the bathtub. What was going on? All was dark and silent, save for the splashes made by her limbs and the occasional pop of a bubble.

The electricity had tripped, that was all. It wasn’t the first time. Emily’s building wasn’t the newest or best maintained in this part of the city, though the landlord was forever promising to fix the wiring. Still, it was strange for the power to trip now of all times, when Emily wasn’t using any appliances and her roommate was out of town.

If she’d gone with her original plan of lighting some candles around her bath and reading in the flickering half-light, Emily may not even have noticed. Unfortunately, she was out of candles and had been unable to bear the thought of leaving the house again to buy more. Because of that, she would now have to interrupt her bubble bath and go fiddle with the switchboard if she ever wanted to learn the details of the heiress’s first meeting with the pirate captain.

Sighing deeply, Emily deposited her book on the shelf behind the bathtub and lifted her body from the water. Bubbles clung to her skin as she stepped out of the bath and onto the rough-hewn stone floor.

Rough-hewn stone? That wasn’t right. Where was her fluffy bathroom mat? Where were the tiles? In the pitch darkness of the power outage, she could see nothing, but the sensation of cool and uneven stone beneath her soles was unmistakable.

Panic set in. “This is impossible,” she whispered to herself, hoping to hear the comforting sound of her own voice. But the way it echoed in that vast place frightened her even more. Although she could see nothing of her surroundings, the absolute silence around her and a strange new chill in the air told her that this wasn’t her bathroom anymore.

Emily stepped forward, groping blindly and in vain for the towel rail, or the basin, or any other familiar feature of her bathroom, but her hands grasped only empty air. She stumbled forward, eyes slowly adjusting to the darkness.

After she had traversed many times the length of her bathroom, her outstretched hands made contact with a rough stone wall, of similar texture to the floor. She let her hands travel across it, taking in every crack and bump, feeling the coldness of it.

Once her eyes had grown accustomed to the dark, she turned away from the wall to survey this strange place. The room was vast, with walls, floor and ceiling made of the same rough gray stone. The great height of the ceiling made her feel even smaller than her slightly below average stature.

In the center of the room, where she had walked from, sat a stone slab about the same size and shape as her bathtub, hollow and filled with water. Aside from these details, it looked nothing like her bathtub. There was no sign of the great white mounds of bubble bath she had used half a bottle to make, or of the book she’d laid down mere moments ago. She was going to have to wait to find out what the pirate captain said to the heiress.

Emily’s chestnut-brown hair clung to her skin, down to her mid-back. A few loose tendrils fell about her heart-shaped face, sticking to her lightly freckled cheeks and nose. There was a slight chill in the air, and she looked down at herself, hazel eyes wide.

Her pale skin seemed almost to glow in the darkness, spotted by droplets of water and a few slowly shrinking clumps of rose-scented bubble bath. Trickles of water slid down the small of her back and onto the curve of her bottom. They slid from the nape of her neck, through the valley between her breasts, down to the short, matted hair between her legs. The sensations were too strong for this to be a dream.

She was no longer in her bathroom, her apartment, or anywhere she’d ever been before, and the only thing she had on her entire body was a black elastic hair tie that was a permanent fixture on her wrist while her hair was down.

The only exit to the room was a simple archway a few feet away from her, which disappeared into a dark hallway. Gathering up her courage, Emily walked towards the archway, her fingers trailing against the stone wall. As she peered down the hallway beyond, she could make out a faint source of light in the distance.

It was a torch, flickering and casting dim, dancing shadows on the stone walls. Emily hesitated for a moment, wondering if she should remain in the room and wait for someone—or something—to find her. Better to be proactive, she decided. If nothing else, it would be better to stand in the light and heat than this dark and cold. Clutching her wrist and nervously toying with the elastic hair tie, she took a deep breath and approached the light.

The corridor was long and winding, but the torchlight grew brighter with each step. Emily’s footsteps echoed in the silence, every sound magnified in the stillness of the place. As her surroundings brightened, she began to notice details too: abstract carvings on the walls and a procession of torches along each side of the hallway. She could also hear faint whispers, what sounded like murmured conversation.

As she continued forward, Emily could now discern the source of the whispering. It came from a larger chamber up ahead, bathed in a soft glow. Her heartbeat quickened as she approached it, and the whispers grew louder and more distinct. There were definitely people up ahead!

The thought made her footsteps slow as she considered the potential danger ahead. She was in a unfamiliar place, like nowhere she’d ever been before. Would these people be friendly? Would she be able to understand them? Their voices were still too soft and intermittent for her to make out what language they spoke. What would they make of her sudden and unexpected appearance?

Even if they were friendly, she was about to encounter them without a stitch of clothing, still dripping wet from her bath. Her cheeks burned, and she wished for something, anything, to cover herself. But the stone hallway was bare of all but the torches set into the walls.

Having no better option, Emily wrapped her arms around herself to preserve what scraps of modesty she could. She would just have to deal with her embarrassment and enter the chamber like this. If the castle’s inhabitants were decent people, they would give her something to wear. And if they weren’t ... Emily shuddered, forcing the thought of being thrown naked into a dungeon from her mind.

After much trepidation, Emily stepped into the chamber at the end of the hallway. It was a grand room, better lit than the dim hallway, by an enormous chandelier of glowing crystals that hung from the center of its domed ceiling.

But what truly caught Emily’s attention were the statues. The chamber was lined on either side by rows of statues, each carved from different types of stone and metals. They depicted humanoid figures, ranging from ordinary men and women to figures with animal heads, to hulking beasts that stood on two legs. She recognized some as fauns, satyrs and gargoyles, while others were entirely alien. While most stood at attention, there were a few seated figures, as well as some captured in dancing poses. Curiously, many of the statues were turned to face each other, as if in conversation.

The whispering Emily had heard in the hallway, previously so constant, had ceased. Had this chamber really been its source? There was no one here but the statues, their immobile stone faces peering down at Emily with dead eyes. She shivered and drew her arms tighter over her body.

Maybe the whispering people had left the room just as she’d entered. Could they be afraid of her? What a thought! They had nothing to fear from a poor, lost, naked girl. Emily strained her ears to hear if the whispers had started up again somewhere else, but heard nothing. All was still and silent in the chamber.

Emily allowed her arms to relax at her sides, as no one was around to see her. Had she imagined the whispers? No, they had been far too distinct and continuous, and they’d only stopped the instant she entered the chamber.

“Hello?” she called out tentatively, her voice cracking slightly and echoing across the chamber. “I-is anybody out there?”

“It’s been a long time since we’ve seen someone new,” said a soft and lilting voice from behind Emily’s back. Startled, she spun around, eyes searching for the source of the voice, arms firmly rewrapping around her naked body.

But no one had snuck up on her—the chamber was just as empty as before. “W-who’s there?” Emily asked.

“Only us statues,” the voice continued. It was coming from a point to Emily’s left.

Emily’s widening eyes settled on a tall statue of a woman carved from white marble. She had strong features and an intricate hairdo and was dressed in a flowing toga. But what caught Emily’s eyes was the statue’s lips, which moved with the soft voice. Their movement was jerky, like a low-frame animation, but that they moved was unmistakable. Moreover, the statue’s eyes moved to meet Emily’s.

“You’re alive?!” Emily stammered.

The statue chuckled, making a sound like the tinkling of wind chimes, her shoulders moving mechanically up and down. “Not quite as you are, but in our own way. Long ago, we were as you are. But ancient magic trapped us in stone and forever bound us to Castle Elid.”

There was a terrible sorrow in the statue’s voice, a deep and long-held sense of loss that Emily couldn’t help but feel affected by. She fidgeted uncomfortably with the hair tie on her wrist as she asked, “Why were you trapped? And by whom?”

A deeper voice began to speak, resonating from the bronze belly of a statue of a bearded man on the other side of the hall. This statue had a stout form, with muscular arms, giant shoulders, and a slightly bloated gut. While his upper body was bare, he wore a weathered pair of trousers and large, sturdy work boots. “Stories differ,” he said. “Some of us were employed in this castle, others members of its royal families. Others still, merely passing through, the unlucky sods. But every last one displeased a castle mage, and this were the punishment.”

“Castle mages?!” Emily repeated, glancing nervously at the entrance to the chamber as if one was just about to enter and turn her to stone.

“Don’t worry, friend,” said the marble lady. “They are all long dead. Yours is the only flesh to enter this castle in centuries.”

“And what flesh it is!” roared the bronze man, reminding Emily that she had left her bottom uncovered and directly in his line of sight. She squirmed and twisted her arms ineffectually, trying to hide everything at once. The twinkle in the statue’s eyes and the grin beneath his bronze beard caused her to blush a deep crimson and wish she could melt into the floor.

“Don’t be crass, Bromberht, you’re making our guest uncomfortable,” said the marble lady curtly. Then, turning to Emily, she said, “Please excuse him. What is your name, dear?”

“E-Emily.”

“What a beautiful name! I am called Aria.” The statue drew herself up into a regal pose. It seemed to Emily that her name and appearance seemed quite commonplace and dumpy in comparison to this refined lady.

“Ya can call me Brom fer short, Miss Emily,” said the bronze man, his voice small and contrite. “I’m sorry fer my outburst, but please take it as a compliment.”

Emily’s blush deepened. These people—statues—were being very nice, but there was little that words could do to ease the discomfort of her current situation. Although none of the other statues had yet spoken, she could see them moving out of the corners of her vision, and she knew that all eyes were on her pale, damp little body.

“Th-thank you,” Emily finally sputtered out. “Please, do you have anything for me to wear?”

Aria looked down and shook her head. While the gesture was intended as one of sorrow, the stiff and mechanical nature of her movements made it appear somewhat ridiculous. “I am sorry, Emily, but the only clothes we statues own are those we wear as part of our bodies. Would that I could give you my gown, but I can no sooner part with it than with my head.”

For just a moment, Emily felt quite jealous of the statues, having their clothing permanently attached to their bodies. “Is there nothing in this whole castle?” she asked. “I’m not fussy, I’ll happily take a tablecloth or bedsheet.”

“Nah, lass, no living man or woman has occupied these halls for nigh on three hundred years!” said Brom. “Any rags what were left behind have long ago provided food for the moths.”

Emily’s shoulders slumped. “Well ... okay. Can you help me get home?”

“Where is your home, dear?” asked Aria. “Do you live in one of the neighboring villages?”

Emily shook her head violently. “No, no, I live in a city.”

Aria’s eyes widened in wonder. “Ah, a citizen of Lirethel! You are indeed far from home, Emily.”

Emily quirked an eyebrow. “Lirithel? No, I live in Greenville.”

“Never ‘eard of it,” boomed Brom. “Though it has been many a year since I last saw the green plains of Thessolan.”

It might have been Emily’s imagination, but she could almost swear she saw a tear form under Brom’s left eye. “What’s Thessolan?”

Both statues threw their heads back at this question, their bodies making loud creaking and grinding sounds as they jerked with laughter. But the laughter quickly died when they noted the continued bewilderment in Emily’s eyes.

“You do not know of Thessolan?” asked Aria. “Perhaps there is a different name for it now. In our time, Thessolan was the name for the known world, all the land across the seven kingdoms, from the endless sea in the west to the great desert in the east.”

At the statue’s words, spoken in a matter-of-fact tone despite their fantastical content, Emily finally admitted to herself how truly far she had come from the bathtub in her Greenville apartment. Perhaps the talking statues should have been her first clue. “I think ... my home is in another world.”

“Another world?” asked Aria, intrigued at once. “I have heard of such places, but seldom of visitors from them. Pray tell how you made the journey.”

Emily shrugged. “Well, I was in the bath, reading a book, and suddenly everything went dark. At first I thought the electricity had gone off—my landlord keeps promising to fix it but never does—but when I got out of the tub to go check, I found myself in this castle.”

“Well, that certainly explains your lack of attire,” Aria replied. “But I have not heard of this ‘electricity’ you speak of. Is it a form of magic your people use to travel between worlds?”

“No it’s ... well, it’s not important, really, but it’s not that. I had no intention of coming here, it just happened. Believe me, if I’d wanted to go to another world, I would have put some clothes on first.”

“Very curious. I sense the workings of great and powerful magic. You were brought to our world for a reason, Emily.”

Emily pouted. “It would have been nice to have some advance warning.”

“Aye, I felt the same when that mage turned me te bronze,” Brom interjected. “Would have worn me good trousers if I’d known.”

“At least you’re wearing trousers!” Emily cried, pushing her legs together.

“We are all victims of magic, in our own ways,” Aria continued. “But I do not think the magic that brought you here was born of malice, Emily. Your aura is not poisoned by it, as ours are. No, I believe you were brought here for a good and noble reason—to free us from our bondage!”

Emily staggered back at Aria’s words, her back brushing up against Brom’s bronze arms. “Whoa whoa whoa, what?”

Aria smiled. “Forgive me for placing such a burden on you, our guest. But there is something you can do that we cannot, a simple task that will break the curse upon us and restore us to life.”

A third statue, who had been standing frozen at Aria’s side, now came to life. It was a jester, carved of the same gray stone as the castle itself. The jester was short and hunchbacked, his nose rising barely above Aria’s waist. One eye was comically larger than the other, and he spoke in a shrill voice, “Lady Aria speaks of the Labyrinthine Pool! Deep in the heart of Elid Castle, there is a maze of submerged chambers, twisting and turning, with hidden currents and secret alcoves. Some say that its paths shift, ever-changing from day to day. Others speak of strange chambers, which present obstacles and challenges to those who would traverse them.”

Emily shivered at the jester’s description, her mind filling with thoughts of sea monsters and drowning in the dark.

The jester cackled at her. “At the center of the Labyrinth lies a talisman—the Stoneshell, a silver necklace imbued with the power to break the curse on the Statues of Elid Castle and free them from their bondage to the castle. A cruel trick, for we cannot navigate the pool! Many have tried, merely to sink like the stones they are!”

Aria’s face snapped into a grimace. “Thank you, Jivaro, that was ... illuminating.” Then she turned to Emily. “The Labyrinthine Pool is a place of great terror for us statues, as, being made of stone and metal, we cannot swim or float. But for a being of flesh, it is not so bad. The water is warm, and there are many places to catch one’s breath. That is part of the cruelty of our curse, you see, that any one of us might retrieve the necklace were we not made of stone.”

Aria’s sad expression made Emily hesitate about what to say next. Jivaro’s description of the pool had been horrifying, and she’d made up her mind that whatever her most sensible course of action was, it couldn’t possibly involve drowning in an underwater maze. While Aria had made it sound slightly better, it was very much in her interest to do so. Was Emily really the first person to enter the castle in three hundred years? Or had these statues asked others to enter the pool for them before, only to drown?

Brom spoke again. “Our fate is in yer hands, Miss Emily. Only you can retrieve the talisman. Milady Aria speaks truth, but do not think that retrieving the Stoneshell will be an easy task. The Labyrinthine Pool is filled with challenges and tests, riddles and mysteries. Sorry, milady, but we must be upfront with her.”

“You are right, Brom, of course,” Lady Aria said, her tone carefully neutral. “Dearest Emily, we cannot force you to take this risk. But it would be remiss not to mention the direness of any alternative. This castle is inescapable, sealed to keep the objects of the mages’ wrath forever trapped. Should you refuse to enter the Pool, as is your right, we will be unable to offer you any alternative course.”

Emily gasped as the full implications of Aria’s words dawned on her. “So I’m trapped? Is that what you’re saying?”

“Yes,” replied Aria. “We can offer you company, but this castle is a dead and empty place. There is nothing here to sustain life.”

Emily shivered. She’d eaten shortly before her bath, so she wasn’t feeling hungry just then, but that would change. Even so, she didn’t appreciate Aria’s calculating tone. It was some nerve, asking a lost, shivering naked girl to embark on a dangerous quest just after meeting her.

“I don’t know, this is a lot,” she said to Aria. “I’m lost and I’m cold and I just want to go home.”

“We understand, Emily,” said Aria, whose arms now jerked into a wide, embracing gesture. “Take as much time as you need to decide.”

Though the gesture looked like an attempt to comfort Emily, it did nothing of the sort. She faced an awful choice: to venture into a watery maze filled with unknown dangers or to remain in this cold, desolate castle with no way out.

There was a harsh, grating noise of metal on metal as Brom cleared his throat. “I understand yer hesitation, Miss Emily. Were I in your shoes, I’d be wary too. Jivaro’s tales of the Labyrinth can be a bit ... exaggerated.”

Jivaro the jester hopped forward, nearly toppling off his plinth, but somehow stablizing himself. His stony eyes glared at Brom. “Oi! I speak only the truth, bronze behemoth!”

Brom simply chuckled as the tiny jester shook his fists.

“Regardless of Jivaro’s flair for the dramatic,” Aria said, “the danger is real. The choice is Emily’s alone.”

The weight of countless eyes bearing down on her vulnerable form made Emily’s decision all the more difficult. She thought of her home, her roommate, her mom and dad. How long would it be before they knew she was missing? What would they think? She had to get back to them, but she had no idea how. “I need to think,” she finally whispered.

“Of course,” said Aria, her voice gentle. “Please, wander about the castle, and take all the time you need.”

Emily nodded and turned to shuffle out of the hall of statues, shifting her arms to obscure her butt from stone and metal eyes.

“One more thing!” Aria cried out, just as Emily reached the doorway.

“Yes?” Emily asked, looking over her shoulder.

Aria paused briefly and then said, “If I am restored to flesh, my gown shall be yours!”

“Now we’re talkin’!” shouted Brom.

“Shush!”

Emily smiled to herself as she turned back into the hallway. Now that she had spent more time here, and become acquainted with the place’s inhabitants, the strange and foreboding atmosphere of the place seemed to have softened. Castle Elid remained an eerie place, but it now appeared more lonely and sad than frightening.

As her bare feet stepped soundlessly down the corridors of Elid Castle, Emily relaxed and allowed her arms to fall to her sides. She would be ready to cover up at the sound of another voice emanating from an object that appeared inanimate, but for now she was truly alone.

The rooms she came across were largely empty, their furnishings long removed or rotted away. In some rooms, she found old bedframes, ancient tables and chairs, but never a sheet or curtain or blanket to cover her nudity or provide warmth from the castle’s many drafts.

If she used her imagination, she could picture some of the rooms as they might once have been. Some must have been banquet halls, others ballrooms. But little remained as a reminder of those times, beyond the strangely long-lasting torches on the walls.

The most interesting room she stumbled upon was an old library, full of leather-bound books stacked upon wooden shelves. Pulling one book out, she found to her shock that she could read it. The book contained tales of the land of Thessolan, of knights, mages, and fierce dragons. Of princes, princesses, kings and queens. Each page appeared to have been painstakingly hand-written, with beautiful illustrations and elaborate border details.

When she’d first entered the library, the thought of tearing pages out of books to construct a makeshift outfit had crossed her mind, but their beauty and craftmanship were such that the idea now filled her with an even greater shame than her nudity. Emily had always loved books, and in this world, they were clearly rare and difficult to produce. To defile such beautiful objects ... it was better to remain naked, as difficult as that was.

The library also contained the first mirror she’d come across in her journey. Through a layer of dust, she looked upon her naked body between the shelves, a leather-bound book open in her hands. A moment of vanity told her this would make for a creative and quite saucy photo opportunity if only she had her phone. She could think of a few guys who would be quite keen on seeing such photos. Laughing to herself, she struck a few tasteful poses. Though not having anything to wear once she was done soured the experience somewhat.

Her hair and body were dry by now, and she took a moment to put her hair up in a bun, getting it out of her eyes. This only made her feel more exposed, so she took it down again, slipping the hair tie back onto her wrist. With her hair back down, she attempted to arrange some of it so that it covered her breasts, Lady Godiva-style. This worked well enough and would stay in place as long as she walked carefully.

She had a choice, but really it was no choice at all. The statues had been correct when they told her that there was no way out of this castle—if she ventured too far down one corridor, she’d just end up back where she started. Magic was probably involved somehow. Unless she wanted to while away her time reading books in this library, there was only one thing to do.

After checking her hair one last time in the mirror, she returned to the hall of statues. All eyes turned to her as she entered the doorway, her right hand plastered over her crotch.

“Alright,” Emily began, looking directly at Aria. “I’ll do it. I’ll enter the Labyrinthine Pool and retrieve the Stoneshell.”

Brom smiled warmly at her. “We knew ya had the heart of a hero, Miss Emily.”

Aria, her face etched with gratitude, said, “Thank you, thank you! At last, we shall all be free!”

Jivaro rubbed his small stone hands together, moving them so fast that bits flaked off. “Excellent! A new challenger approaches the Labyrinthine Pool! Best of luck to you, Lady Emily of Greenville, our beautiful and bare benefactor!”

Blushing, Emily asked, “How do I get to this Labyrinthine Pool?”

Aria gestured towards a doorway that Emily had previously not noticed. “It lies at the very heart of the castle. Bromberht and I shall guide you there.”

A loud crack sounded from the plinth below Aria as she lifted a sandal-clad foot and brought it forward. Dust and fragments of marble sprinkled the ground beneath her as her legs separated, clearly for the first time in many years.

Emily winced at the noise. “Does that hurt?”

“N-no,” Aria replied, grimacing as she staggered forward, almost losing her balance. “It just ... takes a bit of effort.” With jerky, uneven steps, she advanced towards where Emily stood, causing the latter to spring back, lest Aria lose her balance and fall. “Forgive me, I have not had any cause to leave my station for over a century.”

Emily could feel the immense weight of Brom’s bronze form moving behind her, from the tremors made by each of his footfalls. Up close, his surface was visibly tarnished, in contrast to Aria’s immaculate complexion. He moved swiftly and with greater ease and confidence than Aria but with the same mechanical rigidity. “Aren’t I always telling ye to move about more, Lady Aria?” he said playfully.

“Yes, yes, you’re quite correct, Brom,” Aria replied dismissively. “I just need a moment to return the feeling to my limbs.”

Emily watched with fascination as Lady Aria’s marble form jerked through a series of stretches, the stone of her limbs grinding against each other and producing a copious amount of dust and debris. She had never seen anything quite like it and had to pinch her thigh, for about the tenth time, to convince herself that she wasn’t dreaming.

“There we are. I feel much better now. Follow us, Emily, the Labyrinthine Pool isn’t too far.” Aria walked over to Brom, moving much more surely now, and the two statues beckoned Emily to follow them to the doorway Aria had indicated.

“All honor and gratitude to Lady Emily, Savior of the Statues!” cried Jivaro’s shrill voice. “I shall compose a song to tell of her bravery, her epic deeds, and the alluring curve of her backside!”

Realising that her hands had fallen at her sides while watching Aria, Emily blushed and scurried towards the moving statues, who led her into a mercifully dim hallway.

“Pay Jivaro no mind, Miss Emily,” said Brom. “He’s harmless, really.”

Emily sighed and turned her gaze to Aria, who had taken the lead. She wondered what the marble gown she’d been promised would look and feel like after she retrieved the pendant and broke the curse. She felt a tinge of guilt about Aria’s offer, which would leave her without anything to wear. But then, it had been an offer freely given, and surely the least of the statues could do in exchange for Emily’s undertaking of such a dangerous quest.

Besides, the gown looked quite loose and flowy. Perhaps, with some careful alterations, it could provide outfits for both of them.

As they walked, Aria pointed out rooms in the castle and explained what they had been for during her time as a royal occupant. She pointed out bedrooms, servant’s quarters and mage’s chambers and told brief, light stories of the people who had lived there. For his part, Brom indicated the stones on the wall that would give way to reveal hidden passages and stories of his time as one of the castle’s defenders. During some of these stories, especially those concerning mages, the statues would trail off and quickly change the subject, clearly unwilling to relive the events that had led to their petrification.