Little Caelora

"Caelora!!"

A woman in a black dress, trimmed with delicate hints of white, shouted into the empty air. She had searched everywhere—room to room, corner to corner—yet Caelora was nowhere to be found. This wasn’t the first time the girl had vanished like this. No, far from it.

“No... no... no, please,” the woman muttered under her breath, her voice tight with rising panic. She quickened her steps, eyes darting, hands trembling. “Little Miss, please... I can’t afford to lose this job!” she pleaded into the silence.

But still—

Caelora did not appear.

The grand hall stood silent, its tall windows casting pale streaks of moonlight across the marble floor. Dust danced in the beams like fading memories. The woman pressed a trembling hand against one of the pillars to steady herself, her breath shallow and quick.

"Think, Elira... think..." she whispered to herself, her fingers tightening around the folds of her skirt.

Caelora couldn’t have gone far—at least, not on foot. But that girl was clever. Too clever. Always sneaking off, always vanishing when eyes weren’t watching. And each time, it was as though she stepped into another world entirely.

Elira pushed open a heavy wooden door at the end of the corridor, revealing a forgotten library cloaked in shadow. The air was musty, filled with the scent of parchment and old secrets.

“Caelora?” she called again, softer now. “Please, little one. I won’t be mad—just come out.”

Silence.

Then—a creak. Behind the farthest bookshelf.

Elira’s heart jumped into her throat. She moved cautiously, heels clicking softly on the worn floorboards. As she approached, she could hear something—whispers. Not Caelora’s voice, no. These were lower... layered, like many voices speaking at once, yet none fully formed.

Her skin prickled.

“Caelora?” she repeated, slower this time, pushing the shelf aside with effort. Dust exploded into the air. Behind it, nestled between the back wall and a toppled bookcase, was a narrow gap in the stone—a hidden passage.

Elira’s breath hitched.

She had worked at the manor for nearly five years. She knew every hall, every stairwell, every broom closet. But this… this wasn’t supposed to exist.

The whispers grew louder. They seemed to pull at her thoughts, warping them—like fingers tapping the edges of her mind.

She should leave. She should run. She should call for help.

But instead, she stepped forward.

Into the dark.

.

.

.

.

AUTHOR AREA !!!

HEYYYA, SYLVIE HERE ^^

Hope ya enjoyed how this turned out, cuz well me ... I'm not quite satisfied with my work, it needs improvement and of course I have to improve my imagination to create more amazing and well, pretty scenarios. This is my first ever novel, a story even I myself, don't know the ending. But yahhh new things...^^

Let's get along^^

Ohh, btw feel free to suggest what could happen next... I'm really open for new thoughts and ideas I could put in this piece! ><

***Download NovelToon to enjoy a better reading experience!***