The Quiet Corridor
The sound of their footsteps hung faintly, devoured by the quiet of the great corridor. Leon accompanied Nova, the sole two individuals making way through that sweeping, resplendent hall. The very air was thick, near religious, as if no other heart would intrude here. No servant hurried by, no soldier guarded—none but they, their presence reaching against the vacancy.
The corridor was breathtaking. Glossy marble floors gleamed with the light of hanging chandeliers that seemed like crystalline suns above them, each glass bead scattering bits of brilliance on the walls. Golden filigree edged the pillars, and delicate paintings of stars and moons on the arched ceiling created an illusion that heaven itself had stooped low to view them. The scent of sandalwood smoldered faintly from concealed braziers, warm but held in check, like an unobserved hand leading them forward.
