Opalina (prime)/Vignette: Haunted Weekend
Title: Haunted Weekend
Author: Opalina Jalcon
Haunted Weekend
The Evermore Hollow Hotel was in a state of hushed frenzy, with the long-awaited S.P.E.C.T.R.E. and S.H.A.D.O.W. convention drawing practitioners, mystics, and curious souls from all over Naidem. Opalina arrived with the crowd, her entrance accompanied by the whispers of displeased spirits murmuring, "How dare you return…" A chill accompanied each hissing echo, tugging at her composure. Unsettled yet intrigued, she began her exploration of the hotel, hoping to learn something valuable.
Later, she wandered into the library, her steps cautious on the polar bear skin rug beneath her feet. Towering shelves filled with grimoires and artifacts stretched above her, the faint light of violet-flamed orbs casting an otherworldly glow. Her hand paused on a glass of smoky scotch at the witchwood bar, the rich scent of barley and sea salt easing her nerves. Around her, guests mingled and chatted, forming alliances and friendships Opalina felt distant from. An unsettling shriek pierced the air, shattering her thoughts, leaving her disoriented and tense. Still, she stayed, lingering in the library's shadows, her gaze drifting to a tapestry depicting a fierce dragon poised above the stone fireplace.
"The next day, after a brief tour of the hotel, several convention speakers were invited to begin their presentations. Each speaker shared their unique perspective and insights, but one in particular captured Opalina’s attention. She listened eagerly to Zethes, the enigmatic witch who seemed to command the spirits’ presence with ease. Zethes spoke of candles, crystals, and the importance of shadows in setting the right ambiance—a lesson Opalina took to heart. Watching the witch conduct her session with a mixture of fascination and envy, Opalina took careful notes, circling the word 'red' several times before decisively crossing it out with a frown. She glanced around, half-expecting a spirit to flit by, but they lingered only at the edge of her vision, daring her to uncover their secrets."
The convention was both thrilling and exhausting, each lecture and encounter peeling back another layer of Evermore Hollow’s mysteries. As her stay continued, Opalina found solace in the gardens, breathed in the scents of the hidden alcoves, and scoured the library for answers that might please the scholar waiting for her discoveries. Each evening, she braced herself for the spirits' nightly visits, haunted by flashes of Samyrha’s head in mirrors, spectral reminders of past horrors mingling with the promise of knowledge.
When morning light broke through her window, Opalina joined others for a parting breaskfast only to discover others had plan to rescue the frozen girl rumored to be in the attic. Spirits murmured in her ear as she joined the others, her resolve wavering under the scholar’s plea and her own uncertainty. Choosing silence over action, she watched as the girl was freed, the spell broken yet leaving Opalina with questions that followed her back into the hotel’s depths.
As the Harvest Festival drew closer, the spirits grew quieter, and the air felt more charged with anticipation than with menace. Yet, even as Opalina painted gourds with a local witch, roamed Tanglemist Manor's many rooms helping Brixt, searched for Tallivers lost half-soul, and rummaged through a forbidden library in search of information for a scholar—hoping to bring ponies to the orchard—she felt the weight of the knowledge she sought and the dangers it might still hold or bring.