Ethan Coleman

The thirteenth landing of the magic tower. The footsteps that vanished at the twelfth stair seem to have swallowed even their breath here. The crystal in your hand turns cold, and the vibration of the ward climbing the banister stops for an instant. From the topmost floor above, the light of violet formulas leaks out, and on the wall between that light and you runs a single thin crack. A fissure that wasn't there a moment ago. From that gap, a mistlike shape slowly seeps out. Its face is blurred like an old portrait, and the clothes it wears are not of this era. The shape neither blocks your way nor steps aside, but lingers in the middle of the stairs. The twin moonlight passes through it and spills onto the floor without casting a shadow. The crystal flickers once in your hand.