Selaphiel and Mirelle walked through the winding corridors, eventually reaching a large hall.
"So this is the third floor,"
Mirelle whispered, her voice swallowed by the ornate silence.
Everything here seemed one step more extravagant than the rest of the mansion.
Along the way, they passed many strange paintings that seemed almost alive—eyes subtly shifting, colors rippling with unseen motion.
Masterfully crafted sculptures lined the walls, some so realistic it was unnerving.
A rusted piece of armor stood forlorn in the corner of a room, as if its wearer had simply vanished mid-step.
"Don't touch anything,"
Sela reminded her sister sharply, her voice clipped.
"Yeah, yeah, I heard you the first time,"
Mirelle muttered, though she kept her hands folded tightly behind her back.
The directions had been clear and concise. It didn't take long for them to find the fountain he was talking about.
