Chasing Shadows, Shadows Chasing
The air, more than it ever had since first arriving in Ishgard, felt wrong.
Of course, to the observer, nothing looked to be particularly amiss. The sky was blessedly cloudless, leaving opportunity for the moon to join the street lamps in lighting the way home for the myriad tradesfolk and otherwise whose chatter drifted up and down the Foundation. Shouted farewells, idle chatter, everyday arguments – they filled the early night as easily as smoke from the surrounding factories’ stacks.
Merry company, signs of life. It was a beautiful, peaceful sort of evening.
Why, then, did the deepening shadows feel so oppressive? Why, then, couldn’t she shake the nagging sensation that something was watching her.
True, she felt similarly every time she’d stay up too late reading; when the material was designed to be chilling or cryptic and she was left alone with guttering candles and an overactive imagination. Such was the intent of the authors, after all!
This was different.
