Chapter 231: Leave This Instant.
Midnight.
Parlour, Theodore Mansion.
Critic Arley, Critic-Ishire.
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It was night and the mansion, which was a grand and imposing structure with its intricate carvings and sprawling gardens, had an air of uneasy quiet. The recent renovations, including the installation of floor-to-ceiling glass windows by the skilled glassman, had added a modern elegance to the ancient halls. Yet, unbeknownst to the inhabitants, those very windows were now portals for their enemies.
The evening light filtered through the expansive glass panes, casting shimmering reflections on the polished marble floors. The mansion’s elegance was on full display, with its richly adorned walls and priceless artifacts. Lydia had taken solace in these improvements, hoping they would bring a sense of renewal after the recent tragedies. But the beauty of the glass concealed a dark secret, one that was about to reveal itself in a most sinister way.
The maids have accompanied their lady who has been reading into the night in te library, so they read and snacked while also gossiping lightly while the men scatter around vigilant outside.
As the clock struck midnight, a strange, otherworldly glow began to emanate from the glass. The air shimmered with a faint, unnatural light, casting eerie shadows in the dimly lit room. The glow intensified, pulsating with an ethereal rhythm, and the glass seemed to ripple like water disturbed by a stone.
Without warning, figures began to materialize within the glass. The first to emerge were the witches, their forms dark and menacing. They stepped through the glass as if it were a mere veil, their eyes gleaming with malicious intent. Their cloaks billowed around them, shadows dancing at their feet, and their lips curved into cruel smiles. Following them were the witchers, their male counterparts, equally formidable and filled with a dark energy.
The witches and witchers moved with a fluid grace, their movements almost hypnotic in their precision. They spread out through the room, their presence filling the mansion with an oppressive sense of dread. One of the witches, a tall woman with raven-black hair and eyes like polished obsidian, raised her arms and muttered an incantation. The air crackled with energy, and more figures emerged from the glass portals, swelling the ranks of the intruders.
"Grace, stop standing close to windows that shadow might see you" one of the magic practitioner shouted at the young magic practitioner.