S

I find myself perched upon the ledge of the ancient manor. The first sentinel, my stone form weathered by centuries of watching over this damned abode waiting for the light to vanish completely – not that it can be seen through the storm. We're forced to do nothing but watch until the sun sets. Forced to wait for the darkness until we are free.

Throughout the centuries we've guarded the estate, it has never been a happy home, and the newest inhabitants seem no different. The manor is cursed, and those who reside here are equally as tainted. Tormented. Evil touches everything inside these stone walls. But for the first time, something pure has come to the manor, bringing a new kind of horror with it.

My gaze is drawn out across the courtyard, beyond the ruined maze and to the marshlands between the manor and the sea. She is barely a speck of white amongst the mud now, barely visible as the storm rages around her.

I don't know what possessed her to venture out when she barely leaves the solarium. Was it because the Lord of the Manor had left? Was this her escape, a bid for freedom?

No. She moves too slowly, weighed down by whatever it is that haunts her. I silently snarl as she falls to her knees, and I am reminded that I am nothing but a sentinel, frozen in stone by daylight, while she lives and breathes within these walls.

Except, she's not living.

We are bound by duty, by the magic that holds us in these forms, condemned to watch from afar as she goes through the motions, an empty shell. From the first moment he laid eyes on her, Jas was convinced she belonged with us, but I'd resisted, unwilling to be drawn into the same fruitless cycle. However, as the urge to protect her grows every day, there's no denying what I'm feeling.

I am a guardian, a protector, but even I cannot save her from the darkness lingers in the manor. Not unless she lets us in. Unless she wants to be saved.

A tingling sensation in my claws lets me know that there's only a few more minutes of daylight left. It can't come quick enough as she falls face down into the muck. I refuse to let her drown in the mud on the moors.

She is ours to protect.

The bonds begin to snap, and I turn my head slowly, stretching out as much as the curse will let me. The others wait on their pedestals, just as desperate as I to move. To be free. To save her.

With a roar, the final threads of magic snap and I launch forward, my wings spreading wide as I soar towards her.

She will not die tonight.

I will not let her.

She is ours.