The next morning, Lily crossed the edge of town to stand before Mr. Armitage's small cottage; it was nestled among the trees, small and plain, and she raised her hand to knock on the door, half expecting him to deny her entry. But he turned the handle at once, a sharp eye taking in pale, frightened face.
"You see things," he said straight off. "Hear things, too, likely."
She nodded, her voice trembling as she told of the events of the night before—the mirror, the vision, the possession. Armitage listened in silence, his face growing darker with each word.
"There is something you should know about your family, Lily," he finally said, motioning to a chair for her. "Your grandmother… she was part of a lineage going back centuries. Your family had been involved in something that was very old, something that perhaps never should have been bothered with."
"What do you mean?" Lily whispered.
A long time ago, one of your ancestors made a pact with a powerful entity. A shadow that gives power but demands loyalty and sacrifice. Your grandmother fought to keep it at bay, but now that she's gone, it's coming for you.
She clutched her hands behind her as she listened, her voice shaking. The family always kept secrets: secrets they hid in their bedrooms, closets, and back rooms, where the daylight barely ever reached. And this? She could barely swallow it down. But everything made sense now. This explained all the whispers and visions, the strange phenomena that started to plague her upon her arrival.
"You are in danger," Armitage stated. "However, I can help you if you are willing to trust me.
She hesitated, then nodded. She had no other choice, anyway.