Nemona: The Witch of Scaranton

Chapter 13: Fireplace

The midnight air was thick with anticipation, and the looming shadows of the mansion seemed to grow darker, as if bearing witness to the secrets about to be unveiled. The chimes of the grand clock resonated, marking the beginning of the final hours of our fourth night. It was now or never.

I stood in the grand drawing room, the fireplace crackling softly, casting flickering shadows on the ornate walls. I gathered everyone tonight to discuss current events and maybe cast aside shadows of mystery. Gilbert, Lionel, Tommy, Beatrice, Eleanor and Jasper, except for Lila who was still fighting Nemona's influence in her bed, gathered around, their expressions a mix of anxiety and curiosity.

"It's time you all knew the truth," I began, my voice unwavering. "Each one of you is tied to this mansion's mysteries and magic, I would have a feeling your family is not so ordinary."

Gilbert scoffed, his skepticism evident. "Magic? Really, miss Larkspur? Are we to believe in fairytales now?"

Before I could answer, Lionel interjected, his voice dripping with disdain. "Perhaps if you'd paid more attention to our family's history, brother, you'd understand the gravity of the situation."

Gilbert shot him a withering glance. "I've always been here, tending to our legacy, while you wandered off, chasing fantasies."

I raised a hand to quell the brewing storm. "Enough! We don't have the luxury of time for disputes. Eleanor, the locket you had? It wasn't just an heirloom. It was a binding artifact."

Beatrice chimed in, her voice gentle and excited of her new found ties to melody and magic "Every tune I played, every song I sang, they were echoes of melodies that once reverberated in these very halls, calling out to the spirits bound here."

Tommy added, holding up the camera, "And this camera didn't just capture memories, but it is somehow connected to the essence of this mansion, revealing hidden truths."

I continued, "Each interaction you've had, from the smallest touch of an artifact to a tune hummed absentmindedly, has awakened dormant energies. The spirits, the mysteries, they're not just stories."

There was a pause, the weight of it all hanging in the air. Gilbert looked around, and the arrogance in him began to wane just a bit. Still skeptical, he started to entertain the possibility of believing in what others were saying.

"But there was more to share, more that I had kept hidden. Story I owed to Winstones, to tell them the truth about myself. Taking a deep breath, I revealed my own enigmatic connections."