Ascension by Nick Stead

Lifeless it sat there on the table, an empty vessel awaiting a soul. Its two eye-shaped holes stared unseeing at its creator, and a slit lined with human-like teeth gaped in a vague approximation of a smile. But there was nothing human about that face. It had no nose like its orange counterparts of the modern world, lacking the character often bestowed upon those distant relatives in the here and now.

A candle passed into the hollow frame, though the lantern was made no less eerie for the orange glow. Its creator didn’t seem to notice. This was her favourite time of the year, and she observed these ancient customs with more than just sacred duty.

Lady Sarah of Wilton stood back to admire her handiwork. She could have had the servants carve out the turnip for her, but every year she insisted on doing it herself. All Hallows’ Eve was one of the few nights where anything might be possible. It was a night for lost souls, their one chance to find their way to Heaven through the prayers of the good Christian men and women of England. But it was also a night for spirits to walk among the living, if the oldest stories told by their pagan ancestors were to be believed. Some might think that idea terrifying. Lady Sarah was not one of them.

She gazed into the flickering eyes she’d fashioned with such love. In the centuries to come, she would refer to it by the name coined from the term ‘Jack of the lantern’ in the eighteen hundreds, but that was still some five hundred years away yet. Her guardian against evil had no name, yet the flame seemed to give it life all the same; a fiery soul to ward off all the unwanted visitors the night might bring.

There came a knock on her bedchamber door. It sounded too soft and hesitant to have been made by any malevolent beings come to prey on the living, and Lady Sarah was fairly confident as to who it was standing in the passage outside. Still, it always paid to be cautious. She looked to her lantern as if for guidance, searching its inhuman features for some sign she was right not to be afraid. The turnip leered back. Its soul continued to burn strong, and that was all the confirmation she needed.

“Yes?” she called out.

The door creaked open, a hand wrapped in a filthy bandage appearing along its edge. A young face peeked round a moment later, her eyes wary and her lips parted with unease. Inwardly, Lady Sarah sighed. The serving girl was practically quaking in the doorway. She grew tired of the girl’s anxieties, but her father had taught her a good ruler should be patient, and consider the needs of her subjects. So she held her tongue and waited for Constance to say her piece.

As always, the girl’s fear of not observing the proper etiquette outweighed the nerves she felt in the presence of royalty. She swallowed and stepped into the chamber with a curtsy. Grime covered her from head to foot, her plain woollen tunic looking especially shabby beside the ornate dress decorated with the finest silks and furs Lady Sarah wore. “Forgive me, my Lady, but the King requests your presence in the great hall. The guests will be arriving soon.”

“Thank you, Constance. Please tell Father I am almost ready."

“Yes, my Lady."

“And bring some more wood for the fire before it dies out."

The girl curtsied again and hurried away, closing the door behind her.

Lady Sarah stayed by her ghoulish lantern a moment longer, her thoughts returning to the dead. Not all the night’s potential ghostly visitors were unwelcome, and while most of the castle’s inhabitants were excited for her father’s banquet, Lady Sarah looked to All Hallows’ Eve with the same hope she did every year. To spend one more night with her dearly departed grandmother, that was all she asked. Every year she wished for the same, and every year she was disappointed. Yet it did nothing to diminish the hope she felt rising in her in the days leading up to the holy night, and this particular All Hallows’ Eve was no different.

But she was ever aware of the duty she had to the living as well as the dead, and she supposed she should finish preparing herself for the festivities. She was just about to turn away from those glowing eyes when a sudden gust of wind robbed them of the life they’d been given, along with the other candles on the table. Her chamber plunged further into darkness. Cursing, she groped her way to the window while her eyes adjusted to the gloom.

A beautiful full moon filtered through the gap in the stones, shining so bright it cast a shadow as she reached out to close the window. The sight of it amidst the clouds was mesmerising. She would have been quite happy to stand there looking up at the sun’s pale sister for hours, had it been any other night. But it would not do to keep her father and his guests waiting, so she pulled herself away and grabbed her brush, then sat down on the bed to tackle the tangles in her dark hair, her back to the window now.

She had barely raised the brush to her head when she saw it. A monstrous shadow, moving along the wall towards her own. Her guardian lantern had failed her. Evil had found its way into the princess’s chamber, and by the time she’d spun round to face it, her fate was already sealed.

The year was 1356, and that was the night that changed everything.

***

Ascension, a spin-off novella from the Hybrid series, out now on Amazon.