By the Power of My Swipe

Rain battered the walls of the castle above the ancient lake, and its pointed towers shot into the night sky aiming to pierce the heavy, bulging clouds. The stronghold stood quiet and dark, except for one window, high up in the northern turret, burning with pale amber light. Inside, the room was hot with fire from the hearth and the three children played a game of tag — a willowy girl, a boy in tartan pajamas, and a toddler with a head full of tousled ginger curls. The storm raged against the weathered stones of the keep, shook the glass in the lancet windows, but the children were not afraid — the wailing of…