Your grandparents were cold, detached, and uncaring.They had little to no time for you, and were often away, leaving you to your own devices. When they were home, they grew tired of your presence quickly, often sending you to another room, telling you to go and do something elsewhere. Despite all of this, living with them, was better then living with your parents. Not that living with your parents was even an option anymore.Â
There were upsides to living with your grandparents. Because they cared so little for you, other than ensuring you had your physical needs cared for, you mostly got to do as you pleased, only now without so much fear of being abruptly targeted for something outside of your control. Your grandparents simply didnât care enough to be hateful towards you, and the servants treated you more as an annoying chore rather than a person.Â
Since they spent most of their time elsewhere, and their estate was so massive, you rarely ran into any of the servants employed there, especially when you figured out how much of the estate went completely unused. You essentially had the run of the place. If you could get into it, you could use it. So long as it was in the unused parts of the building and grounds, no one could tell you otherwise.
One evening, after having been sent from the room again, you found yourself wandering the halls, using your curious nature to smother the loneliness, focusing instead on the mysteries of these forgotten rooms. It was easier this way.
A breeze rushed by you suddenly, tugging at your clothes, a sound brushing past your ears, like a whisper on the breeze, beckoning, begging. Curiosity claiming you fully, you pressed a hand to the wall, following some unknown urging, one you had felt only faintly in brief moments, since you came here. Deeper and deeper you wandered into the building, taking shortcuts through rooms you hadnât yet seen, and hallways and stair cases you didnât know existed.
Eventually, you found yourself in a quiet hall. There were no doors, but there was a single massive tapestry, at one end. The tapestry was covered in dust, the images impossible to really make out under all the filth and natural decay. As you stood before it, you felt that breeze again, though there were no windows. Quietly, you realised, it was coming from behind the tapestry. It took no small amount of effort for you to get past it, eventually resorting to crawling on your knees, but you managed it.
Standing in the centre of the dusty circular room, was a large crystal cluster, rising from the ground, as though the building had been built around it. Every inch of the room was covered in dull markings, each carved into the stone, in intricate complex patterns. As you moved closer to the crystals, you could see the faintest glow from the centre. That strange desperate beckoning brushed against you again, and you found yourself raising your hands, pressing them gently to the cool crystal.Â
Feelings flooded you, almost overwhelmingly, before they seemed to notice your discomfort and pulled back, their next brush, more gentle. The building, the entire estate, was alive, had been for a very very long time. How long had it spent, forgotten and cast aside? It was so lonely, so achingly desperate for, someone, anyone to care, to connect with. You knew those feelings well, perhaps that was why you could hear their cries when others couldnât? What ever the reason, it didnât matter now.
You could feel the tears pouring down your face, and you knew, that in its own way, the building was probably crying too. None of that mattered anymore. Neither of you would ever be alone again. You had each other, you were connected now, and life was only just beginning.
Neither your grandparents nor the servants, noticed how the estate seemed somehow lighter, warmer, more alive. Things were about to change.
