Alastor's cave seemed alive in the sunset. Long golden beams of flowing sunlight seemed hostile as they scorched across the floor of the cave. In the darker, deeper recesses where Alastor lived, a spider skittered across a vast stalactite, weaving a web between this pillar and its neighbour. Already its job was becoming difficult due to the copious amounts of water that constantly dripped from the ceiling. The water droplets hung seemingly suspended in mid air on the web like a glassy necklace, and the spider struggled to surmount the challenge of scaling the jewels of water in his way.
Below the spider was Alastor's great organ, hewn partly out of the mountain itself, and partly out of very specific minerals he requested. There were pipes of crystal, wood, steel, even hollow glass. A kind of musk hung over it now, the dust had settled, yet still the blower continued its purpose, silently providing the air to anyone who wanted to operate the instrument. It's humming provided a slight vibration to the whole cavern, a background noise. Like the deep rumbling of far off thunder. Powerful, but comforting. A sort of inner blue light emnated from the centre of the organ, blades of blue stabbing out in between the pipes, providing a much more cooler source of light than the hot orange sunlight. The heavy moisture in the air was tangible, and it almost seemed like there was a silent, calm war going on between the sources of light. Water droplets plopped into pools and echoed for seconds, before being swallowed up by the ever present hum of the organ.
Beside the organ was a small opening in the wall, leading to a tiny hollow where there was a large polished black marble plinth, in the shape of a great serpent, coiled and sleeping. In the centre of the snakes form were crimson cushions. Alastor's bed. It was raised off the ground slightly, to keep the water that covered most of the floor of the cave off it.
Today however was an unusual day, the cushions that lay in the snake were, for the first time ever, warm. A living girl lay on them. Marie.
There was a slight whine in the air, like charge collecting. Then a blue flash at the entrance to the bedroom. Ripples ran into the bottom of the plinth before Alastor came speeding in, almost silent save for the splashed in the water. His face was etched with the pain of both extreme exertion and worry. The speedy journey had taken its toll on him. He looked into the bed and breathed a sigh of relief, all worry dropping away. She was not yet awake. Now his face was just a mask of contented tiredness, and a blank white mask.
Climbing painfully onto the raised serpents head, Alastor sat down and waited. For this girl, there was all the time in the world. All the time...
Below the spider was Alastor's great organ, hewn partly out of the mountain itself, and partly out of very specific minerals he requested. There were pipes of crystal, wood, steel, even hollow glass. A kind of musk hung over it now, the dust had settled, yet still the blower continued its purpose, silently providing the air to anyone who wanted to operate the instrument. It's humming provided a slight vibration to the whole cavern, a background noise. Like the deep rumbling of far off thunder. Powerful, but comforting. A sort of inner blue light emnated from the centre of the organ, blades of blue stabbing out in between the pipes, providing a much more cooler source of light than the hot orange sunlight. The heavy moisture in the air was tangible, and it almost seemed like there was a silent, calm war going on between the sources of light. Water droplets plopped into pools and echoed for seconds, before being swallowed up by the ever present hum of the organ.
Beside the organ was a small opening in the wall, leading to a tiny hollow where there was a large polished black marble plinth, in the shape of a great serpent, coiled and sleeping. In the centre of the snakes form were crimson cushions. Alastor's bed. It was raised off the ground slightly, to keep the water that covered most of the floor of the cave off it.
Today however was an unusual day, the cushions that lay in the snake were, for the first time ever, warm. A living girl lay on them. Marie.
There was a slight whine in the air, like charge collecting. Then a blue flash at the entrance to the bedroom. Ripples ran into the bottom of the plinth before Alastor came speeding in, almost silent save for the splashed in the water. His face was etched with the pain of both extreme exertion and worry. The speedy journey had taken its toll on him. He looked into the bed and breathed a sigh of relief, all worry dropping away. She was not yet awake. Now his face was just a mask of contented tiredness, and a blank white mask.
Climbing painfully onto the raised serpents head, Alastor sat down and waited. For this girl, there was all the time in the world. All the time...
