THE COLDEST SLEEP
CHAPTER TWO
SANGUINE, MY BROTHER
Sunlight streamed through the windows and fell on the creaky wooden floorboards. Melantha was sleeping on her side, knees pulled up to her chest and one arm under her head. The night's events came rushing back as soon as she opened her eyes.
Still feeling quite shaken, Melantha pulled on a green brocade and doeskin shoes. As she entered the parlor, the housecat Alicia purred in welcome. Melantha pressed her lips to the cat's dark coloured fur before heading downstairs.
"Good morning, Lucan."
The old man was stood behind the counter, pouring over a ledger. He looked up, startled, seeing as her footsteps were so light. "Ah, Melantha. Nearly scared me to death!" he chuckled. She smiled, and a comfortable silence fell.
"I'm afraid I'm going to have to cut my visit short. I have business to attend to in Bravil."
It was nearly midnight when Melantha arrived in Cheydinhal. She left her horse in the stables and entered after a quick exchange with one of the guards at the gates.
The abandoned house wasn't hard to find. It looked like all of the other buildings in the city, save for the boarded up door and vines growing on the stones. It wasn't difficult to get into either; one of the windows was smashed and easy to crawl through.
A few tapestries and crates had been left behind by the previous owners. The hearth was filled with the cold embers of a fire from long ago. Melantha ignored the remnants of the only things that seemed to connect the house to reality and walked carefully down a set of crumbling stairs to the basement.
The basement was the same as the ground floor, albeit with more cobwebs. There was a large, gaping hole in the opposite wall, however, that led into complete darkness.
Melantha stepped into the hollow, feeling soft dirt beneath her boots. She groped around, her fingertips brushing the cold stones. Eventually, a dim red glow could be seen ahead. At first, Melantha thought that her eyes were playing tricks on her, but she was mistaken.
The door was curved, and carved into it was a skull with a handprint burned into its forehead, and beneath that a depiction of a woman with a baby looking down upon several figures bowing their heads in obdience.
"What... is the colour... of night?"
The raspy, ethereal voice made Melantha jump. She brought a hand to her mouth to muffle her cry of surprise. As she regained her composure, she managed to remember what Lucien had told her and said, "Sanguine, my Brother."
"Welcome... home."
I apologize for the short chapter, but the next one will be much better, I promise. Also, thanks for the feedback on the last chapter. It is greatly appreciated. (:
Au revoir!