Not too long ago,
As the heavy doors of the Dreadthorne Castle began to close behind him, Asher paused, turning his head slightly to catch Jarius's gaze. With a slight, knowing glance that spoke volumes, he communicated a silent command.
Jarius, his throat suddenly dry, swallowed hard, acknowledging the weight of that look with a stiff nod.
Turning, Jarius ascended the cold, echoey stairs, each step resounding ominously as he approached a particularly eerie and forsaken part of the hall. The air grew chillier as he neared the door that reeked of despair.
"Brother, can I come in?" Jarius's voice was low, almost respectful of the gloom that shrouded the corridor.
"Fuck off..." The response came as a gruff, muffled grumble from within, laden with despair and irritation.
Jarius let out a subtle scoff, masking his nervousness with a feigned chuckle, "Brother, you would want to know what I have to say. It's concerning our sister."
