He catches glimpses of her memories of what this place looked like before, in another life; like seeing a reflection of something through two mirrors. Her throne, this palace, the windows and the vaulted ceilings, would be a prison even without the bars affixed to the windows.
The dark, cavernous hall provides ample room for Atticus to cloak himself in shadow and remain out of sight, though it does attract the attention of the inquisitive spirits whose whispers reach towards Petrana from the darkness. Some turn their attentions on Atticus, but their offerings to him fall flat; there's nothing a spirit can give him that won't rip him away from what he longs for most: this, the Fade, walking through dreams, and changing them. They are a perfect canvas.
He reaches upwards with one hand and, like ripping aside a curtain, he strips the oppressive darkness away from the windows and lets bright, dazzling light spill into the chamber. It bleeds into the shadows, washing it away in a deluge, and Atticus remains motionless, rapt with anticipation, to see what will be revealed in its place.
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The dark, cavernous hall provides ample room for Atticus to cloak himself in shadow and remain out of sight, though it does attract the attention of the inquisitive spirits whose whispers reach towards Petrana from the darkness. Some turn their attentions on Atticus, but their offerings to him fall flat; there's nothing a spirit can give him that won't rip him away from what he longs for most: this, the Fade, walking through dreams, and changing them. They are a perfect canvas.
He reaches upwards with one hand and, like ripping aside a curtain, he strips the oppressive darkness away from the windows and lets bright, dazzling light spill into the chamber. It bleeds into the shadows, washing it away in a deluge, and Atticus remains motionless, rapt with anticipation, to see what will be revealed in its place.