Ignatius-Valdis: Bonus Scene Chapter 2

It was in the darkness of the room; Gothalia couldn’t make out what she’d heard. She knew she was alone — the weight of her parents’ deaths still clinging to her. Then it happened again: a thud.

Gothalia sat up in bed, confused. She believed Anaphora and L’Eiron were asleep, too exhausted from what had happened to be awake at this hour. Her eyes fixed on the closed door of her parents' bedroom. Another thud, this time from the opposite side of the room.

The handle trembled. The door creaked open. Gradually, the evening moonlight filled the floor in pale squares. Artificial rain left a chill in the air, sharpening Gothalia’s senses. The thudding stopped—there was no one there.

Gothalia climbed out of the bed and slipped from the room into the hall. Her eyes drank in every detail: the silvered moonlight, the cold ripples of water lapping the windowpane, the hush that pooled in corners. At the far end of the corridor two small red dots glowed, twin embers that seemed to watch her. Only later did she realize they were eyes. She held her gaze on them and did not move.