The Quiet Kind Of Beauty -Marauder Era

Part 27

"I must be paranoid

I never thought it would come to this

I'm paranoid

Stuck in the room

With staring faces"

~ Paranoid, The Jonas Brothers 

Her father had a type of effect on the manor. Like the other times when he would lose his patience, the manor resonated with a tense silence, as if every tile, every curtain, window, chair, held its breath. Waiting. For him to come home, preparing for the worse. Sometimes, the silence tore at Clara, who could do nothing but wait along the furniture, wondering what would become of her when Joseph would return.

Something was different this time.

Perhaps it was the sheer desperation that Clara felt in her bones, of wanting out. The fear wore her thin, but the feeling of being prisoner in her own home sped her heart rate dangerously high.

Daniel had left five minutes ago. She was still standing in front of the entrance. Bailiwick watched her nervously.

"Bailiwick," she called calmly.

"Yes, Clara?" he replied hurriedly.

"When will my father be returning?"

"Around nine o'clock, miss."

Clara turned her head towards the staircase, then made her way towards it. At the top, she surveyed the two hallways. One, leading to her bedroom. The other, leading towards her father's study.

She turned and walked towards the study. Her footsteps echoed against the polished tile, the heavy wooden door locking her out of the west wing gleamed in the afternoon sun. Once she was a step away, she raised her hand and turned the brass handle, the material cool under her clammy hand. Unlike before, the knob turned easily and clicked open. The office door at the end of the west hall was closed. Jogging a little now, Clara pushed the doors open.

The office had not changed much since the last time she was there. The furniture was still pushed against the walls, shadows lurking in every corner, under every piece of furniture. Like before, she felt the wave of pain, strong enough to make her stumble on her feet. Tripping blindly, she backed into the wall and took shaking breaths. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, the pain lessened, and with one last deep breath, she forced herself into the middle of the room. On his desk sat the same box, the number of chalk it held significantly less than when she last saw them. Her eyes found the familiar spot on the ground, where she had seen the chalk dust earlier. Moving swiftly, she found the corner of the rug, and pulled it back, dropping it to rest on the remainder of the rug. On the exposed floorboards, stark white against the dark wood, was drawn a circle. With a gasp, she began to recognise the shapes and patterns formed by the connecting lines in the circle. She had taken Alchemy during her last two years of school, and Ancient Runes. The circle was a summoning circle, capable of summoning object, given that the summoner had provided the correct materials. Somehow, the circle by her feet had combined Ancient Runes, powerful ones, into the circle. Like others who had taken the classes, she knew that the two studies were similar in some ways, but combining them was incredibly dangerous. Too much power had a high possibility of going berserk, the summoner losing control completely.

Being careful not to step into the circle, she surveyed the runes. She recognised all of them; on the outside, algiz runes circled the circumference. In the center, uruz, kenaz, hagalaz, perthero, and in the center, surrounded by a pentagon, the othala rune.