His fingers traced the familiar, nostalgic patterns on the wallpaper, and Arthur froze.
"The Arevalo manor... this is my home."
He began to walk forward unconsciously, moving down a seemingly endless corridor flanked by unchanging wallpaper and a series of silent, tightly shut wooden doors.
They wouldn't open, and no sound came from within, as if they were merely part of the scenery.
But just then, he thought he heard faint crying coming from far in the distance.
Though the sound was almost inaudible, it filled his heart with a strange sadness.
He quickened his pace, heading toward the sound of crying, drawing closer and closer.
Finally, he stopped before a wooden door that looked no different from the others. He hesitated for a moment, then knocked lightly.
The crying from within fell silent. Not another sound could be heard.
Arthur took a deep breath and turned the cold brass handle.
This time, the door opened with ease.
