A strange chill immediately prickled Liana's skin as the enormous wooden door behind her gave a soft thud. The air inside carried an odd scent—a mixture of melted old wax, rotting wood, and the fragrance of dried flowers beginning to decay. Liana hugged her canvas bag tightly against her chest, trying to dispel the shiver creeping up the back of her neck.
A vast expanse of gleaming black marble stretched out before her, reflecting Liana's figure like a bottomless pool of dark water. All around her, towering stone walls rose toward a dim, vaulted ceiling. This place was far too grand to be called a school, yet far too dead to be called a home.
"Excuse me?" Liana called softly.
Her voice didn't merely echo—it seemed to bounce repeatedly off the corners of the dark room. There was no answer. Silence covered the place so completely that she couldn't even hear the ticking of the clock on the wall. There was no burst of student laughter welcoming the new school year. No hurried footsteps scraping across the floor, no excited shouts from those waiting to meet their roommates.
Liana drew a deep breath, letting her lungs fill with the cold, heavy air. She stepped forward, allowing the heels of her shoes to strike the hard marble. The tapping sounded unnaturally loud and solitary amid the silence.
"There has to be an administration office somewhere around here," Liana whispered to herself, trying to chase away her anxiety.
She walked down the main corridor, flanked by rows of enormous stone pillars. Faceless statues of soldiers stood rigidly between them, staring straight ahead with their swords driven into the floor. Every time Liana passed one, she could have sworn its stone shadow shifted slightly to follow her.
The corridor turned left, carrying Liana farther from the entrance. Along the walls, wrought-iron candle sconces stood in neat rows. The flames atop them burned weakly, but their color was strange—a pale orange that gave off no warmth at all.
Liana pulled a thick sheet of paper from her coat pocket. The scholarship introduction letter stated that she had to report to the administration office on the ground floor of the main tower before evening ended. Yet there were no directions posted on the walls. No neatly painted signs like those at the school she had come from.
"Damn it, where is everyone?" she muttered, wiping at her forehead, which was beginning to sweat coldly.
Liana's footsteps slowed when she heard another echo. It was extremely faint, like the flutter of small wings somewhere behind the high ceiling. When she looked up, only pitch-black darkness greeted her. The building's roof structure disappeared into shadows beyond the candlelight's reach.
The feeling of being watched from above made the hairs on the back of Liana's neck stand on end. She quickened her pace, half running down the marble corridor that seemed to have no end. Thick wooden doors lined the passage, all of them tightly shut and locked from within.
"Hello? Is anyone in there?" Liana tried knocking on one of the doors.
The wood felt incredibly cold, exactly like ice. No one answered from the other side. Liana gripped the chilly brass handle and tried turning it slowly. The door was firmly locked.
She clicked her tongue in frustration. This place felt like a gigantic museum deliberately emptied to trap her inside. There should have been staff members, or at the very least cleaning personnel, moving about before night truly fell.
As Liana was about to turn back, she saw the candlelight ahead change abruptly. The flames that had been pale orange suddenly dimmed, leaving behind only a thin flicker that made the shadows of the stone pillars stretch strangely across the marble floor.
Liana stopped in her tracks. Her body went rigid. At the end of the corridor, behind the shadow of the largest pillar, a human silhouette stood motionless.
"Who's there?" Liana's voice trembled, though she tried desperately to make it sound firm.
The figure slowly stepped out of the darkness. He wasn't a teenager, but a tall, middle-aged man. He was dressed entirely in black, his clothes neatly tailored in an extremely elegant, classic style. His gray hair was combed carefully back, revealing a sharply defined jawline and flawless, pale skin.