a sneak peek from the first chapter of Age of Evenfall:
It was the eve of July the thirteenth. As midnight came, the clock tower at the centre of Fowlers Square rang out in echoing chimes, and the birds that had nestled quietly upon the rooftops fled into the sky as its final chime faded. The homes of Fowlers Square were yet to wake from their deep slumbers, all but one at the least. Opposite the Clock tower and across the green sat an old home, much older than those around it. It looked like it had been stolen from a simpler time and shoved there without much care or thought. The brickwork etched throughout its outer walls like the thick wrinkles on an old traveller's face, and the windows sat deep between them like large, tired eyes. Red and white flowers snaked their way up from the overgrown gardens on both the front and back, encircling every window and covering every tile they found.
.
Yet the square was not empty. Beneath the shadow of the clock tower, a figure lingered, half hidden by the gloom. They did not move when the birds scattered, or when the lamplight flickered to life in the cobbler's flowered shop window. The glow only earned them the briefest glance, for it was not the man within who held their interest. Their gaze was fixed instead on the darkened window on the first floor, the boy’s room.
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After a time, the figure drew a hand across the stone of the clock tower, their fingers tracing lines too quick to follow. When they pulled away, the surface looked unchanged, yet for the briefest of moments, the faintest scratch of a symbol caught the moonlight before fading into shadow. They had been waiting for this, planning for it, for a very long time. And now all they had to do was wait. They lingered only a moment longer, silent and patient, before slipping back into the night.