The silence of no one greeted you.

Cold, gloomy light fell through the glass windows that were covered in crust and the first layer of frost.

The house was as silent as a graveyard.

Not even the mice were out.

But you could have sworn that there had been a noise.

A noise that didn't belong to this place.

The tips of your ears twitched again.

You could feel the sensation of a sound.

Were those steps?

No, that was impossible.

No one came around to visit you anymore. After your parents had died and the fortune of your father had been taken away by the bank, there wasn't even a good reputation left to your name.

None of the nobles would have liked to be seen with you. And those who didn't care for money and power were too busy not getting stabbed into their backs.

No, there was not one friend that could have come by to say hello.

So maybe a foe.

Yet again, the house was only a sad shadow of its former state. No fool would have tried to break in. It wouldn't have payed off.

Swallowing hard, you raised your chin and dared to step into the shadows of the hallway to walk it down all the way to the first door.

It was opened.

You gave it a gentle push.

Old wood and nails creaked.

Nothing.

The room, an old servants chamber, was as empty and deserted as the rest of the property.

A breath of relief escaped you.

And suddenly the same sound made your sensitive ears flinch.

It was only silent, almost unnoticeable, but enough for your not so human ears to make your body grow goosebumps all over.

You walked on, passed closed doors.

Each of your own steps echoed inside your ears. Your own breath started to irritate your senses.

You stopped.

Again, something cut through the silence.

"Steps?", you frowned while a cloud of white rose from your lips.

So it was a burglar.

But what could the be that was of value?

Where would they go?

Restlessly, your eyes jumped through the hallway, from wall to wall.

The entire estate was empty. Everything of value had been pawned, sold to friends and taken off your hands by distant family members who were better off now than you could dream of.

There really was nothing to get.

Nothing but books.

A lightning of electricity chased through your limbs.

The books of your family were ancient. So ancient that even the elven folk would be jealous.

There was knowledge trapped on these gilded pages that had the power to tear kingdoms to the ground. Empires would fall as soon as the wrong person got their hands on these books.

But no one knew about your family heirloom. Only the closest of friends and family knew about the true meaning of what your father had left behind.

As if struck by lightning, you jumped up and chased down the hallway. Every step of yours made small clouds of dust rise from the ground.

Imprints if your feet were left behind, guiding the way as if a ghost had roamed the halls.

Warmed up air stroked your face as you made your way to the first floor of the house.

It smelled different, of old paper and carpets.

Dried herbs hung from the frames of the large doors and spread a pleasant scent of spring.

Your father had always been very fond of keeping a few leaves or special plants around.

"It keeps the evil spirits away.", he had always said with a smile. "Don't tell your mother otherwise."

Years after his passing you had learned that those kinds of ingredients were used to strengthen protection spells on a home.

As a kid you had wondered why no creatures of magic had ever dared to make themselves comfortable in these walls.

Now you knew. And you wanted to keep it that way.

Emotionless faces and evil eyes judged you out of the frames of portraits as you passed the entrance hall and went straight for the dining room.

There were dents visible on the surface of the carpet.

Those weren't from your shoes.

You didn't wear footwear with heels. And the gaps between each step were so large that you couldn't even reach them while spreading your legs as much as you were able to.

Whoever was here, they must have been a giant.

As focused as a hawk on a hunt, you followed the imprints of shoes into the dining room.

The urge to use magic prickled inside the tips of your fingers.

A small flame danced between the palm of your hands and the fire poker. A glow crawled up the metal.

You had to force yourself to calm down your emotions to prevent it from melting on your skin.

Loud creaks of old wood filled the tense silence.

You stretched your neck to throw a glance into the room.

But everything was as empty as it was supposed to be.

Confused, you frowned.

There were clearly visible footprints on the carpet. And the layers of dust were disturbed as well.

It was as if a harsh breeze had swept through the halls.

But not a single window was open and you remembered that you kept all the doors tightly shut as well.

Unable to find an explanation, you frowned and loosened your posture.

Yet this feeling of being unsettled remained.

Someone was in your home.

You could feel an unknown presence. A magical one.

It seemed unlikely that a creature of magic had made their way into the house after all those years.

Your eyes moved up to the ropes.

All herbs were still untouched and in the exact order to keep the protection spell alive.

Your eyebrows knitted together.

This was so very strange.

To get a better glance at the situation, you stepped up to the window and reached out to check if the bundles had gotten wet and started to rot.

They weren't.

All of a sudden, the same sounds started to irritate your ears again.