The inside of the seer's house was as odd and disquieting as the woman who lived there. The walls, made of decaying stone and twisted tree roots, flickered subtly with the same changing light as the barriers beyond. Shelves brimming with jars, herbs, and old books filled the area, as the atmosphere was heavy with the aroma of soil and something metallic, reminiscent of blood.
Chloe held tightly to me, her large eyes roaming the room with a peculiar blend of interest and caution. I repositioned her on my hip, attempting to dispel the creeping discomfort that had enveloped me the instant we passed through the doorway.
The seer glided to a table at the room's center, her motions measured yet intentional. She signaled for us to take a seat on the old wooden benches beside the table.
"Take a seat," she instructed, her tone soft yet authoritative.
