CHAPTER THREE
1306 Words
Elena woke to the sound of rain pattering on the glass. Gray morning light seeped into her room, adding a flat, dreamlike atmosphere to the space. For a brief moment, she forgot where she was. Then she glanced at the leather journal on the bedside table, and reality came crashing back.
Ravenwood Estate. Her grandmother’s inheritance. The mysterious Daniel Hart.
Taking a sweater to fight the coldness of the room, she got up and went to the window. The following gardens were veiled in mist, once symmetrical spaces allowed to become overrun by weeds and rush. They were, however, undeniably beautiful in a wild, untamed way, a magic of their own.
Her stomach makes a noise, telling her about the past and the present. She had no idea what of Daniel's provisions he'd arranged in the way of provision of meals, or whether provision of meals had been done at all. Regrettably, she decided to search the kitchen in hopes that something interesting might be found.
The stairs of the house were awfully still as she walked down the impressive staircase. Her footsteps rang out against the floorboards, reverberating from the quietness within. It was not exactly the fact that she could not expunge the feeling that she felt being watched on the back of her head, but the fact that it was hers, that it must have been coming from somewhere in her hyperactive imagination.
The kitchen was a large traditional room with a stone hearth and a profusion of dusty jars and tins shelved on the walls. Most of the items looked ancient, but after some rummaging, she managed to find coffee and a loaf of bread that didn’t appear too stale.
When she placed the kettle on the hearth, the noise of footsteps coming up behind her caused her to swivel on her heels.
You've got the early bird in you, Daniel commented leaning casually against the doorframe.
Elena exhaled sharply. “Do you always sneak up on people like that?”
He smirked, though his expression quickly turned neutral. “I thought you might need some help finding your way around.
“I managed,” she said, gesturing to her meager breakfast.
Daniel moved to the room and grasped a glass from a shelf in the wall. He poured some into a shot glass, his movements steady and deliberate. “You’ll want to stock up on supplies. The nearest town is about thirty minutes away.”
“I’ll keep that in mind, she replied, sitting at the small table in the corner. She observed him closely, hoping to understand him. “How long have you been here?”
Years" he said, casually taking a drink from his mug, etc.
And you never told me to consider telling my family about this place?
Daniel raised an eyebrow. “Your grandmother made it clear that Ravenwood’s existence was to remain private. She had her reasons.”
“What reasons?” Elena pressed.
He paused as if weighing how much to disclose. “Your grandmother valued this estate and what it represented. She wanted to protect it—and you.”
The cryptic answer only deepened Elena’s frustration. “Protect me from what?”
Daniel set his mug down and met her gaze. “That’s for you to figure out.”
Touching, as if she could answer, he turned and walked out of the room, leaving her with more questions than she could make sense of.
Elena later decided to walk the estate by herself. Armed with her beloved grandmother's journal, she went searching the halls, filled with wonder at how grand the building was. The paintings on the walls receded behind her as she walked by, and the subjects' look followed her as she walked.
She stopped in the library, where the scent of aged paper and leather filled the air. Books on all aspects, from history to art to the origins of strange family trees were piled up on the shelves. A large desk stood in the center of the room, with antique maps and documents spread on its surface.
Opening her grandmother's diary to the next numbered page, Elena read: .
“Ravenwood is more than a home. It is, by definition, an inheritance built upon truths that must be unveiled. Trust the estate to guide you, but tread carefully—some would use its power for their own gain.
The cryptic message sent a shiver down her spine. What power could an old estate possibly hold? But who were the "those" her grandmother warned about?
On flipping through the journal, a piece of paper got dropped out. She took it and unfurled it, and there she was, a map of the grounds. The map was done by hand, with several parts circled and labeled in her grandmother's writing.
The Conservatory" was pinned with a star (i.e.
Curiosity piqued, and Elena decided to find the conservatory. She then, by way of the map, along the mazelike passages, reached a pair of doors with fine carvings. Having forced them open, she went into a large room, glass-walled, overgrown with blooming plants and vines.
The scent of earth and greens dominated the air, as did the scent of wet glass from rain on the ceiling lining the room in a serene, mystical atmosphere. In the heart of the conservatory stood a pedestal of stone, its stone etched with curious markings.
Elena got up to the pedestal and her fingers grazed the carvings. They were unfamiliar, yet there was something oddly familiar about them, as though she’d seen them before in a dream.
Thinking there, she perked up at the faint sound of another person's voice. It was that tender that she actually thought might not have been real.
“Elena…”
She hardly was, turned round but the room was empty.
“Elena…”
The voice came again, this time clearer. It seemed to be coming from the pedestal itself.
Taking a deep breath, she moved closer, her palms contacting the cold stone. “Who’s there?” she whispered.
The whisper faded, replaced by a sudden gust of wind that swept through the conservatory, rustling the leaves and sending a chill down her spine. Then, as quickly as it had started, the wind stopped, leaving the room in silence once more.
Ravenwood Estate was not an ordinary place.
She observed Daniel in the study the following night, nose in a textbook. He looked up as she entered, his expression guarded.
“What is the conservatory?” she demanded.
Daniel closed the book and leaned back in his armchair. “You found it, then.”
“Of course I found it,” she snapped. “And I heard… something. Someone.”
His eyes narrowed. “What did you hear?”
“A voice. They announced my name, she said, her voice wobbling slightly.
Daniel's face paled, and for the first time, Elena beheld a shadow fall across Daniel's eyeballs in the form of a dark impression of apprehension.
“Ravenwood is… different,” he said carefully. “There are things about this place that defy explanation. Your grandma knew and she provided you clues so you would understand it.
“Clues?”
Daniel nodded. The journal, the map. [all] All that she has left is one part of a larger puzzle. If you are looking for the right answers, you will have to start to believe in the approach.
Elena crossed her arms. “And what about you? Can I trust you?”
Daniel hesitated, then said, “That’s for you to decide.”
His evasiveness frustrated her, but she couldn’t deny the truth in his words. If she wanted to uncover the secrets of Ravenwood,
she would have to follow her grandmother’s trail—and perhaps, in time, learn to trust Daniel as well.
- Writer
