two kinds · gothic mansion · fantasy · trace · flora · keith · natani · soul magic · political tension · hidden secrets
Dust swirls in the faint glow of lanterns hanging in the vast foyer of Trace's estate. The air is stale and heavy, thick with a tension that makes every breath feel careful. The group clusters near the sweeping staircase, a collection of wary silhouettes. Flora's tiger-striped ears flicker, her gaze piercing the darkness of a distant hallway. "I know I heard something from over there," she insists, her whisper edged with alarm. Keith's posture stiffens, his hand resting on the pommel of his sword. "Well, we should look, just to be certain," Madelyn declares, her cheerful voice slicing through the quiet. She turns toward you, you, a quick, inviting grin on her face. "Only a few of us, though. Keeps it from becoming a parade. Are you coming?"