Trails of Intertwined Stars: Chapter 74

~Chapter 4: The Book of the Underworld~

The party went slow, but once Leora had finished her meal she excused herself; saying that she was too tired and it was no fun if she couldn't drink wine like them. Dorian and Lady Gwendolyn had made a big deal of it, cooing at her to stay, yet it was quite clear they were doing it more for their own amusement. Henry, Basil and Lord Bernard, on the other hand, seemed quite eager to have Leora go, as if they felt like they were on babysitting duty from being in the same room as her. Leora swiftly made her way to her quarters, shutting the door tightly behind her and getting into bed; yanking the heavy book out from the folds of her gown. It was a leather book, etched with patterns of leaves and flowers, that looked rotten and unsightly over time. The pages felt older, they were thin and stained heavily, and dust itself seemed to fly off every time Leora turned the page. It was full of stories. Stories that Leora had never seen nor read before, stories that left her evermore wondering about the world, and the worlds beyond theirs. Stories of Di Fu Ling that linger, Mao Gui who are easily angered, Ba Jiao Gui that wail, Yuan Gui that rest uneasily, Han Ba that rise and Diao Si Gui who wreak havoc. Her eyes were wide with wonder at this new world unveiled to her, a world she had not known. A world that seemed like even in death, everything had a purpose and that life was not the end.

She heard the carriage pull up outside to the entrance and the laughter of guests, but she could not care less. It was like the world around her had been swept away, and the only world she cared about was in that book. She turned the page, with a trembling hand, her eyes wide. Kong Hun Jui. Said to be a notorious spirit of the Underworld that many ghosts feared, said to bring calamity. Charming in temperament, unlike other ghosts, yet sinister deep down and human in flesh. The story said he was once a human general, a strong one, who all knew to fear. Yet one fateful battle, he had his head severed from his neck, and his spirit was burdened to wear a red string around where the cut had been blown. And his finger too, had a string bound around it. Leora let out a sharp gasp, her memories of that night flooding back. Staring at the hand. So slender and beautiful, with a red string tied around their middle finger. Had she met the general Kong Hun Jui? With a shuddering breath, she closed the book, eyes wide. She knew who he was, she could do a seance. She could make him her subject, her model. Was it selfish to summon a general? She hoped not. She hoped it was true, that other world beyond hers was true. Her thoughts were cut short hearing a sharp knock at her door. She swiftly stuffed the book under her covers, flushing in panic.
"E-Enter-!"

The door creaked open and the head maid, Helga entered, with a small smile.
"Mistress, your brother told me to tell you the guests have gone," Helga explained, her hair a mess," He says it's time for you to stay in your quarters, is that fine?"
Leora nodded, meekly," Yes... that's fine."
Helga smiled, turning to leave.
"Wait a moment - Helga - I have something to ask you!" Leora called out.
Helga glanced around, clearly confused, her hand resting on the door's handle.
"Yes, mistress?"
Leora furrowed her eyebrows, trying to sound as casual as possible," Do you believe in ghosts...?"
Helga straightened a little at the question, concerned, but didn't press too much. After all, she knew Leora since she was young, and it wasn't odd for the girl to query such things.
"I'm not sure, mistress," Helga answered, honestly," I hope not. But, I suppose I wouldn't be entirely shocked if they were real. Why, mistress? Have you heard noises? Seen things? I must remind you this is a big house, the shadows have a funny way of casting things and noises from the house aren't exactly uncommon."
"No, that's not why," Leora shook her head, softly," It's just my brother was talking about it tonight, and it's just been playing in my mind a bit."

Helga smiled," Well, don't worry, mistress. I'm certain there's no ghosts here, it would have probably shown itself by now."
Leora let out a slight chuckle.
"Goodnight, Helga. Make sure to rest."
"And you, mistress."
Helga shut the door behind her, leaving Leora in silence.
"No ghosts here, yet," Leora smirked, mischievously.
She slipped out of bed, removing her evening clothes to her nightie; blowing out the candle by her vanity. She left the candle at her bedside alight, sitting patiently in bed as she stared at the clock, ticking in the corner of her room. Nine. She'd give it another hour and a half.

When the clock in the corner of her room struck half past eleven, and the shadows covered the room, she set down the book she'd been mulling over. Delicately, trying to suppress as much noise as possible, she slipped out of bed; grasping the cold metal of the candle holder, where the flame had softened over time and seemed to wane. With a gentle breath, she extinguished its last life, fetching the match box off a cabinet. She struck the match against the phosphorus, holding the glowing splint to the candle stick till it lit, before stubbing out the burnt match and thrusting it into the bin. The girl made her way out of the room silently, into the desolate and dark corridor. No one would be monitoring the third floor at this time, they would be on the fourth floor by now; Leora had learnt the servant's pattern. Yet, it was still in her best interest to make as little noise as possible. So, she made her way along the long stretch of corridor; ignoring how the light fought the dark and twisted into shapes of beasts and spirits and things that go thump in the night. She walked past the portraits she'd seen many times, her out dated family, that had already tasted the cold embrace of the afterlife, only stopping to linger at a portrait of her late mother. She looked like Leora in a sense, with brown curls under her chin and a similar shaped face, yet her skin was more olive than Leora's. Leora frowned, trying to remember her mother, but nothing came to mind. The girl turned, continuing her late night trek.

She made her way to the end of the corridor to a set of double doors, which she prayed were unlocked. Luckily, one was. With timid hands, she pressed down and opened one of them to reveal the library, which looked eerie in the night, with only the light of the moon through the windows, and the glow of her candle lighting the room. She stepped inside, closing the door gently behind her, and going over to a section she often avoided when she was young. Her fingers traced over the spines of the old, unused books until it landed on the one she'd been hoping for. She plucked it out gently, setting the candle holder down on a nearby table and flipping through the pages. Perfect.