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❦✩𓅓☾༒☽☀︎︎
Chapter three.
❦✩𓅓☾༒☽☀︎︎
THE SILENCE was so loud.
It was the type of silence that filtered the mind with explicit thoughts or memories that were eager to overstep. It was a calm before the storm situation for Alora.
It resembled the crash of the waves which drifted amongst the shore, rippling their way along the sand desperately, looking to clench a handful of the grain in its grip. The exasperation held within the depth is compressed by sunken pleas and cries of the creatures that lurk below the murky water. Nevertheless, they're drowned out from the fierce command, in courtesy of the wind.
Everything eventually gets drowned out after all, settling down and turning the notch to silent, it entails a beautifully tranquil associated atmosphere.
It all sounds rather off-putting, however, Alora sees this as a privilege. To be entitled to the silence in a world that doesn't stop talking is unusual, it's, what she considers, a fathomable gift. One that we should learn to appreciate before things get tainted and even the consideration of silence would be clouded with a blur of grief and a hint of remorse.
Blurring the line between silence and tension is rather difficult to identify. The contrasting ideas find a way to merge into one, splattering ideas here, there, and everywhere.
Silence is a way to unlock the thoughts of the mind, this gives them access to stem into tiny petals and blossom into a graciously mesmeric and sublime life source. Flowers are known for their beauty, there's no denying it, the way their petals dance waveringly in the wind, flaunting their vibrant colours. They are also intimidating. Their confidence outshines them, so much that they can hide the true meanings of the foulest crimes.
While, tension is like a ray of nerves, the jittery feeling of caution that overpowers your body, mistaking it for its own. Tension is always noticeable, despite how much you deny it, it's easy to read peoples reactions to an awkward or tense scenario, it's all in the eyes.
Anxiety pollutes the air she inhales as she steps into the newly found room. Hanging low, the chandeliers continued to shine, accompanied by the dazed glow emitting from the perfectly chiselled, stone fireplace. The logs crackled and spat as the blaze engulfed the nature ridden object, in one single bite, which gaslighted the fire to rage, furthermore.
The aura located within the room was sauntering with nerves, as a large, opaque table sat directly in front of the corner-met fireplace. Several chairs were holding the table captive as they pushed beside one another tentatively, locking the piece of wood in, leaving no escape.
Accompanying these seats sat over a dozen cloaked wizards, draped in hooded cloaks which sprawled across the floor into an overflowing, drooped pool, beside their feet. It was hardly noticeable, through the gleam of candlelight all she could see were the shadows that groped tightly at their backs, hugging their bodies in a suctioned embrace.
