As Kiara's palm touched the spiral, the symbol pulsed once, like a heartbeat... And then began to unravel.
Not open... Unravel.
The spiral twisted inwards, swallowing the wood and silver-like liquid drawn into a whirlpool. The entire door folded into itself without a sound, revealing a darkness so pure, so absolute, that even the torchlight behind Kiara dared not enter it.
Shasha tensed.
The air itself recoiled like the palace was holding its breath.
And then came the whisper... Not from the corridor, not from the door, but from somewhere far, far beyond it.
A voice stirred.
It wasn't sound; it was echo and memory, vast and ancient, pressing against her awareness like waves against the glass.
"I've been waiting..."
The words didn't pierce the air, they sank into her, resonating in the marrow of her bones. Kiara barely registered them. She was adrift, caught in a semi-conscious state, like dreaming with her eyes open.
