Eldridge Hall's gates loomed ahead—massive, ancient, flanked by towering stone walls etched with twisting ironwork.Aurora stared, heart racing. The old metal gates creaked, then slowly opened, as though they had been expecting her all along.
Soft lamps flickered to life, one by one, casting a golden path beneath her hesitant steps. She followed their glow, drawn forward not by logic but by something deeper—something that felt ancient and knowing.
Behind her, the gates shut with a sharp crack.
Before her stood a huge building, its towering wooden doors carved with unfamiliar runes. The walls were built of weather-worn stone—cold, unyielding, yet regal. It looked like it had stood for centuries, untouched by time.
She paused. A gust of wind stirred her hair.
From the shadows, a man emerged. He looked to be in his twenties, dressed in a black suit—neat, composed, and too quiet. His presence was sharp, like a knife carefully sheathed.
"Welcome," he said, voice low but clear. "Iam Caelum Thorne."
Aurora stared. The name settled in her memory like it had always been there. She couldn't place why.
Caelum didn't smile. He simply stepped aside and added, "You're expected."
Expected? By whom?
Aurora opened her mouth, but no words came. Her feet moved on their own, trailing behind him past the looming doors.
Inside, the temperature dropped. The air was cooler—heavier. The walls whispered as if the very stones remembered. Candles mounted along the corridor flickered to life as they walked, revealing tapestries, portraits, and towering windows covered in thick velvet drapes.
"This place…" she whispered.
Caelum didn't turn. His voice echoed softly.
"You've crossed into a realm not bound by time, Miss Aurora. Eldridge Hall chooses who may enter—and morerarely,who may leave."
Her heart thudded.
"Why me?" she asked.
He stopped. Slowly, he turned, his golden-amber eyes steady.
"Because the lamp lit for you."
He pointed down the corridor. "You'll find your answers in the east wing. But be cautious. Not all doors in Eldridge Hall lead where you expect."
With that, he disappeared into a side passage, the darkness swallowing him.
Alone, Aurora faced a hallway with three doors. Each was marked with an unfamiliar symbol that seemed to shimmer and shift. At the far end, a small lamp flickered gently, beckoning her forward.
She took a breath—and stepped toward the door beneath it.
Her fingers reached for the doorknob. Before she could touch it, it creaked open on its own.
She froze, startled.
There was no turning back.
With a trembling breath, she stepped inside.
The room was quiet—eerily so. Dust motes danced in the air, lit by a golden glow with no visible source. Her bag clutched tightly to her chest, she moved further in.
Suddenly, the floor shimmered beneath her feet. She gasped.
A sofa emerged—graceful and antique, as if it belonged to a palace lost to time. A gentle breeze nudged her forward, guiding her to sit. She didn't resist.
Next, a low table rose from the ground. A teapot, delicate cups, and a plate of sweets appeared upon it. The arrangement looked untouched—but not forgotten. As if prepared specifically for her.
Then, three chairs materialized across from her—ornate, ceremonial, carved with ancient symbols.
From the air, three figures took shape.
A woman with sharp eyes and silver-streaked hair. Two men, older, cloaked in deep traditional robes. They sat without speaking. Their presence was undeniable.
Aurora sat frozen.
The woman at the center finally spoke.
"Welcome, Miss Aurora" she said, voice like velvet laced with iron. "I am Lady Mairead, Keeper of the Threshold."
To her left, the stern-faced man gave a short nod.
"Master Corvan, Guardian of Echoes."
And to her right, the man with storm-colored eyes smiled faintly.
"Elias Thorne, Warden of Shifting Paths."
Aurora's breath caught at the last name—Thorne. Related to Caelum?
"You've crossed the gate because it opened to you" Lady Mairead said. "That makes you… different."
"Chosen" Elias murmured, eyes on her.
Aurora finally found her voice.
"Why me?"
They exchanged glances. Something passed between them—uncertainty, or perhaps fear.
Lady Mairead leaned forward slightly.
"Because Eldridge Hall never opens by accident."
Silence followed.
As if responding to the tension, the teapot lifted itself gently and poured steaming tea into the cups. The cups floated into the hands of the three figures.
Aurora blinked. Still, she didn't move.
"This place," Mairead said, sipping, "is not under anyone's control. Not truly. It reacts. It listens. It answers… in its own way."
"Like… magical?" Aurora asked.
Master Corvan nodded. "Yes. More or less."
She hesitated.
"Then… can I ask it something?"
"Of course" Corvan replied, as if she should've known.
Aurora looked around. Then, quietly:
"Hi… Eldridge Hall. Why did you choose me?"
The room stilled.
Then—
A sudden gust of wind surged through the room. Candles flickered violently. One of the windows shattered with a sharp, echoing crack.
The guardians stood abruptly, chairs pushed back.
Aurora couldn't move.
In the chaos, a voice echoed—not from outside, but from somewhere deep inside her mind.
It was calm. Curious.
"To know about you."