Here's the third chapter folks! I hope it doesn't disappoint. Oh! And I now have a (quite crappy) Tumblelog that you are free to stalk. My username is "isclanel", but you can just click the homepage on my profile here!

The Certainty

Chapter Three: We Welcome You Tonight

Knock! Knock! Knock!

"Nobody's home, let's leave."

"Julian, it's dark out, we're not going back to the forest."

"And the scary castle is any better?"

"It's shelter."

Knock! Knock! Knock!

"I don't think there's anyone here."

"Oh, nonsense!" Bang!Bang!Bang! "Heeeeeelloooooo! We need some help for the night!"

"Mom, it's starting to rain, let's just find our way back home..."

But the door swung open then. Nobody was behind it.

Julian and Daphne looked at each other with frightened expressions. "I don't think this is a good idea Mom..."

And the door opened further, revealing a dark expanse beyond it.

Daphne gave her son a tired look, and stepped forward. "Hello? Is anybody home?" She motioned for Julian to follow her.

He shook his head. There was something unnerving about the castle they were about to enter, and he began to despise his mother's desperate need for a place to stay.

The gate his mother had spotted was wrought iron, almost twenty feet tall, but the latches had rusted horribly and fell apart at the slightest push. A bare courtyard of black sand and ashen trees gave way to the large, foreboding castle, unlike any that the Langloises had witnessed before on their many trips. Even in the night, one could tell that its bricks were a miserable grey, and its rooftops a shade from black. Its many towers loomed above the courtyard with gargoyles and spires along their tops. At the front was a set of wooden doors just as tall as the iron gate – they looked as if they hadn't been touched in centuries.

The creak of the one door as it was opened sounded unnatural, piercing the air with an eerie sigh.

"Julian, come on, it's open!" Daphne had one foot past the threshold, but she too looked a tad reluctant to go any further.

"Mom, there's nobody there!" Julian gave his mother a panicked look – there was no way he was entering that castle. "How can you trust that?"

"Julian, come here, now."

"No."

"Julian! I'm not leaving you out here by yourself!"

"I'm not going into that castle!"

And that was when a light appeared in the darkness of the entranceway.

Daphne gulped. Julian was frozen.

The light hovered from farther away, as if the person holding it were watching them from a distance. That alone was discomforting enough. The light was soft yet harsh, yellow and orange in strange but familiar hues with flames that stood straight and reached out at the same time.

It was Daphne who found her voice first, still poised above the threshold: "Hello? We're travellers! We just need a room for the night!"

The light flickered slightly and a soft thump, almost like a footstep, was heard. Then another, and another, the light moving with each thump. As it moved closer, the flames grew brighter and larger until they became a glowing ball. A few more thumps and the ball separated into three smaller lights.

Julian was still as a statue, not sure what to make of the stranger until a voice sounded in the darkness.

"Do not fear, mes amis!"

Julian's eyes widened, while Daphne's face lit up. "Hello? Who's there?"

There was one more thump and then the holder of the light was standing in the entrance. The only thing strange about him was that he was the light.

Julian couldn't restrain himself. "A candelabra?"

For a candelabra it was, barely a foot-and-a-half, just standing there in the doorway. The odd part was that it had a face with eyes, a nose, and a mouth that was currently moving: "Hello, travellers! Welcome to the castle!"

Both Langloises were at a loss, jaws gone slack.

"Well? Didn't you want a place to stay?"

Again, Daphne recovered first. "Yes, please. Um... could you...?"

"Show you the way? But of course!" The candelabra waved an arm at them. "Come in, come in! It is raining outside, you wouldn't want to catch a cold!"

Daphne grabbed Julian's arm, rousing him out of his stupor. He was still reeling in shock as he was pulled by his mother into the darkness, now slightly illuminated by the candelabra's lights. All he could see was a marble floor littered with cracks and dust. He eyed the candelabra as they passed it. "Uh... hello," he managed to croak out.

The candelabra gave Julian a strange look, but nodded and smiled. "Hello, monsieur," it said, and hobbled off. "Suivez-moi! Let's get you friends to a warm room and a cozy fireplace!"

Daphne made to follow it, but her son grabbed her and held her back. "Mom! You cannot be serious!"

"Son, it said there's a room for us."

"It's a candelabra. It shouldn't be saying anything!"

Lights flickered ahead of them; the candelabra's waxy face was visible only from its flames. "Is everything alright?" it asked.

"Yes, yes!" The actress gave her son a stern look and, grabbing his wrist, strode off after the candelabra.

The one, the one, the one! The one we've all been waiting for!

Lucien glanced behind him and grinned widely at the two travellers. He's the one! I know it this time! "What are your names, mes amis?"

The woman stopped staring at the castle decor long enough to answer. "Daphne Langlois," she said, then pushed at the young man next to her, "and this is my son Julian."

"Julian?"

Julian bit his lip upon hearing his name. He looked at Lucien, but turned away quickly as soon as he made eye contact.

"My name is Lucien, boy."

The young man still wouldn't look at him.

"What, never seen a talking light before?" Lucien chuckled softly, continuing his hop along the hallway. "No matter though, it shall all be fixed soon!"

The candelabra had never been so sure of anything in his entire life. Never. Perhaps it was the years and years and years of waiting finally catching up, but this boy following him was definitely the one. Lucien knew it from the very moment he had spied the two from the third-floor balcony. Something about young Julian was special, even when he was standing behind his mother, dripping on the threshold of the castle.

Lucien glanced over his shoulder again. Both Langloises had their eyes trained on their surroundings, taking in what little of hallway they could see in the dim light. They had shed their travelling cloaks after climbing the second grand staircase to reveal mere rags underneath, clinging to their skinny bodies from the rain. Their limbs were tiny and frail-looking, and their cheekbones stuck out from their faces. Despite their ragged appearance, however, a certain something hung about them, especially Julian. It was probably their long and heavy strides, the fierceness in their eyes, or the fact that their chins were raised in a way that said, "Look at me." It was akin to a bravery and a rebelliousness.

And Lucien had no idea what to make of it.

The only thing he decided to do when he had met them at the door was to show them to the third-floor bedroom, the one with the balcony he had been watching from when they were spotted. It was the place they were turning into at the present moment. "Here we are!"

Julian had barely stepped into the room when a fireplace roared to life, illuminating the entire area to reveal a cozy bedroom. The only thing odd was that although there was a bed, it was tucked into the corner beside three armoires. It seemed as if the room was an entire apartment, with a drawing space and desks and some screens that probably separated the rest of the room from the bathing area. The walls were draped with fine textiles of elegant patterns, the carpets lush reds and browns. All the dressers and tables were stained chestnut, completing the look of luxury. The whole room might have been twice the size of their home back in town.

Lucien showed the Langloises to a large couch in front of the fireplace at the left of the room. To the right of the fireplace, the wall held three large windows around which hung deep mahoghany curtains. Daphne was just thanking him for the room when a different voice sounded out: "Oh, no. Oh, nonononono Lucien! Absolutely not!"

The actor sat up in surprise when a small grandfather clock hopped down from the fireplace's mantle. Like Lucien, it bore a face that was chattering incessantly and stubby arms that were gesturing to the two on the couch. "Who are these? Who are these? I told you, Lucien, I told you never to bring people to the castle again. Ever! Remember what happened last time, hmm? Who was to blame? Not me, never me – it was all your fault!"

"Come, Cogsworth. They mean no harm!" Lucien blew a flame in the face of his friend, who huffed indignantly. "Mes amis, this is Cogsworth! Cogsworth, meet Daphne Langlois and her son Julian!" The candelabra raised his eyebrows mischievously when he introduced the latter.

"Lucien, you idiot! Don't you dare do this again! If the Master finds out-"

"Pardon his, uh, anxiety," the candelabra interjected. "He's never seen such fine guests as yourselves!"

Cogsworth gave the Langloises a sceptical look before taking Lucien and telling him something in a low voice. Julian craned his neck to hear what the little objects were talking about when his view was suddenly blocked by a footstool. And it was barking.

"Don't mind Rosie there! She's a friendly little girl!" A cart wheeled up by itself, bearing a porcelain teapot and several cups. The teapot too had a face, but this one definitely female. "Rosie! Make the guests feel at home!"

The footstool barked and scurried under the feet of the Langloises, propping them up and wagging its tail happily.

"Good girl, Rosie," the teapot smiled. "Now dears, welcome to the castle! I am Angie, these are my children. Care for some tea?"

Julian smiled when Angie tipped herself over and poured some tea in one of the cups, graciously accepting it when she was finished. He was just about to take a sip when the teacup twitched. "Hahaha!" it squeaked. "It's been so long since somebody's drank out of me!"

"Ah!" Julian, startled, tossed the teacup in the air, effectively spilling the hot liquid all over the carpet.

Daphne gave her son a stern look before carefully picking the teacup off the ground. "Hello little fellow. What's your name?" she cooed.

"Chip!" the teacup grinned. "It's 'cause I have this piece missing from my side. But Mama says it makes me special! Just don't run your lip over it, 'cause then you'll get cut."

Angie tsk-tsk-tsked. "Chip, that's no way to speak to the guests. Come back here so I can refill you."

The teacup giggled and hopped back on the cart. Julian leaned over to his mother and whispered in her ear, "Mom, I think there's something wrong with the... uh, things here."

"Don't be silly, sweetie. What could possibly be wrong?"

Julian stared at his mother with his jaw wide open. "Mom! You can't possibly think-"

"Mes amis! I hope everything is going well," Lucien said, having hopped back over to them. "Anything else we can do for you?"

The Langloises gazed at the odd assortment of objects that had gathered in front of them. Lucien, Angie, and her children were standing there, looking at them with expectant expressions. Besides them, other miscellaneous objects had assembled: feather-dusters, brooms, buckets, coat racks and the like that all moved animatedly. Some had faces and some did not, but Julian saw that they were all so alive. Cogsworth, however, had his arms crossed. He was pacing in front of the fireplace with his head bowed, muttering things under his breath.

Julian cocked his head and addressed the objects for the first time. "Are you all... okay?"

"What do mean, dear?" Angie asked gently.

"Well, you're... you're... things, but you can talk! I just wanted to know why."

Cogsworth made an audible gasp. "No! Nonono! You simply cannot! Why, it's already enough that you're here – what would happen if we start explaining ourselves?"

"Why can't you?"

"Oh, don't mind him," muttered Lucien. "His gears are wound a bit too tight."

The clock scowled, turning around and hobbling out of the room. Lucien smiled in satisfaction. "Assuming that he's up to no trouble, let us get to know each other a little better! I am only aware of your names; what else can we learn?"

Daphne bit her lip and looked towards the window. "We're performers," she said softly, eyeing Julian.

"Performers? Do you mean you act on stage?"

"Precisely," the actress whispered.

"Zut alors!" Lucien jumped up in delight, waving his arms and dancing around Angie's cart. "We love the theatre!"

Daphne lit up visibly. "Really?"

"Oh, yes! The art of it all, and oh, such music! My favourite performances always included music."

"Really?" This time it was Julian who asked, intrigued. "You know music?"

Angie chuckled. "Everyone in the castle loved listening to music. We used to watch those sort of performances all the time," she said.

Julian stared at the teapot incredulously. Perhaps he had misheard, but... "What do you mean used to?"

Angie's eyes widened, and she looked at Lucien, who had stopped his bout of joy. "Mes amis," he said slowly, "perhaps you really should know the truth..."

That was when the doors slammed open with a bang and the fire went out, the room all of a sudden pitch black. Julian heard a collective gasp, and then the clattering of woods and metals which must've been the objects scattering. "Mom?" he said, his voice sounding so loud in the darkness. "I think we should leave. We shouldn't have come."

Daphne was silent. Julian felt strangely alone, even if he knew that they were still seated on the couch, in the guest room on the third floor of this castle. However, he couldn't sense the heat of his mother's body beside him, couldn't even hear the chatter of Angie's children or the soft pants of Rosie. He was cold, as if all the warmth had been sucked out of him. The hairs on his arms rose suddenly, and he had no idea why. His breath quickened. "Mom!" he called out again, this time noticeably frantic. He swung his hands around and tried to feel for his mother. But she was no longer beside him.

"J-J-Julian." He heard Lucien's quivering voice from far away. "I'm s-so sorry..."

And that was when he heard the growl that rocked the darkness, feeling himself snatched up swiftly.

It all happened too fast for him to even think of screaming. Julian's whole body froze as he felt himself being harshly grabbed by something rough – definitely not human. Something sharp pierced his arm, startling him out of the momentary shock and he screamed in terror.

"Julian!" Daphne cried, but she sounded muffled.

"Mom! Where are you?" He couldn't stop screaming. Julian felt blood beginning to trickle out of his arm, which was throbbing in pain. He was shaken roughly and his back hit something hard. His brain was going fuzzy, his limbs dangling from where he was raised off the ground. The blood from his right arm was flowing freely now, dripping onto his foot. His cries were getting weaker. "Mom!"

Julian suddenly felt something smooth and cold against his mouth, cutting off his mindless screams.

A low growl sounded out behind him: "Shhh..."

And then the darkness swallowed him, everything slipping away.