The Path Toward the Unknown
A creak answered as Victor swung the door wide. The Guild Master looked up, slow and steady. Dust hung in the light from the window. Boots scuffed across worn wood. A breath broke the silence before words did.
A soft groan came from the wooden door as it opened. The air inside carried a whisper of paper, dried ink, a hint of worn leather. On the broad desk, heaps of documents rose beside Isabella, who stayed bent over her work.
A loose tie held her purple hair at the back, swaying just below her shoulders. Some pieces escaped near her cheeks, gentle against her skin. Light from the window moved slowly across the room, touching each strand with a quiet violet shimmer.
Half a second passed before Victor moved again.
Beautiful.
