[From
here.]
The difference in the Sun Room was literally night and day: what was a relaxing area during the daylight hours was far less pleasant at night, the dim light from the ceiling windows barely illuminating the vague shapes of the furniture sitting around the room. What little light there was only served to create shadows, perfect hiding spots for whatever could be lurking in the darkness. It wasn't a comforting thought, but it was realistic.
Edgar set his eyes across the room, first to the other side, then to the ceiling. There wasn't anything he spotted immediately, but it wasn't unheard of for the poor lighting to play tricks on the eyes... and that wasn't including whatever tricks Landel had up his sleeve for the evening. First the warping doors, then the language barrier- three nights of his games in a row wasn't out of the question, given the circumstances.
He continued into the room, trailing the western wall to protect his injured side, his light still off. He didn't have far to go, but the distance seemed so much farther in the tense silence.
[To
here.]