Epilogue: Fall
Another early fall.
The leaves fell like rain around the traveler as he approached the manor on the hill. His long cloak brushed them where they lay thick on the path, before fluttering in a spiral of wind that sent the leaves swirling around him in rustling eddies.
That wind formed a lonely music across the hills. It stirred the bare trees, whistled in the valleys. The sky bled red.
Far to the west, a storm grew in strength despite the lateness of the year. It would be some time before it reached this far, but the traveler paused and looked. When he breathed the air, he scented ash and cinders. Lightning flickered over the distant mountains.
Perhaps it was time to see what brewed beyond them. Only, if he was noticed…
Too soon. He must be patient. He’d learned well that lesson, and had plenty of practice.
The manor was old and worn, but still proud where it crowned the tall hill overlooking the woods and fields of that autumn touched country. The structure’s windows were dark, yet something within it called to him. When had that call grown so loud? When had he begun to feel compelled by it?
He’d strayed far from what he once was.
Silent turrets marked his approach. Beasts lurked around the hill, but none drew near. The doors were shut. He drew a hand from his cloak, revealing long and gnarled fingers tipped in sharp nails, and reached out. Precious rings that’d kept their beauty even as his flesh was mottled by time caught the final rays of daylight, burning on a hand made tough as rough leather. The doors parted at that barest of touches, swinging forward with nary a whisper of air.
Within lay a grand foyer, lit enough to give an impression of the space but leave much in a growing darkness. He cast a large shadow ahead of himself, like a reaching phantom intruding upon that clean space. Behind him, the sun set and made the shadows creep longer. His longest of all. It stretched into the manor, crawling up the walls, splitting and branching, reaching.
Searching.