Lost souls and lost objects was a grim coincidence for shadows lying in wait down his chosen path. Silas tightened the grip on his wand, an odd lifeline for a boy taught to trust in faith, not light conjured by his own hand. Yet shadows could not stand in the light, nor could monsters against the challenge of a fearless soul. The boy steadied the aim of his wand and angle of his shoulders, as square and firm as his resolve.
"I am going looking for..." he trailed off, quieting as Miss Flint arrived with her own explanation. Silas considered the proposition, uneasy at how real a Fanged Nightstalker sounded. A name like that belonged in a Scripture somewhere, or offered in grave advice, not the whispered object of a jest. He couldn't help the shiver that ran down his spine. Perhaps that was the beast who had taken the poor boy's soul, lost to a prowler of the shadows. Not a figment of a child's nightly fears but a real one that might appear in his Defense Against the Dark Arts book, somehow inhabiting th darker corners of Creation. The kind that the Rosier family seemed far too fond of than seemed reasonable. "...something interesting. I bore of the great stone room with its draperies, don't you?"
Silas thought that sounded like a safer answer, one much less foolish than going looking for a beast. Or a lost soul, he wasn't certain if either of the girls would keep from laughing if he told them. Not everyone had at Hogwarts, least of all the portraits who were as free with their chatter as their unnerving movements. That would not deter his path, however. Faith required courage, demanded it as much as the sea might, though the similarities were more difficult to understand down here.
"If I'm to be stuck underground below the castle walls, then I should like to see what's hiding in them," he added. "Perhaps I'll come across a lost book..." He turned to Miss Rosier, and then to Miss Flint. "...or something more elusive. Ask, and it shall be given you; seek, and ye shall find."
There had been much asking, in prayers from his heart of hearts. If his prayers could be heard from down here, Silas had not yet found any answers to be very forthcoming. Only one thing left remained, and it meant taking a step into those shadows. And then another, close enough for those gloomy shapes to flee before his wandlight. The courage of his faith, and the light of his wand, had open his eyes to the path before him. There was no turning back now, but Silas did pause a moment to see if the others would follow behind him. An invitation, though one as silent as answers to his prayers in this dungeon tomb.
After all, nothing said he had to seek all by himself.
"I am going looking for..." he trailed off, quieting as Miss Flint arrived with her own explanation. Silas considered the proposition, uneasy at how real a Fanged Nightstalker sounded. A name like that belonged in a Scripture somewhere, or offered in grave advice, not the whispered object of a jest. He couldn't help the shiver that ran down his spine. Perhaps that was the beast who had taken the poor boy's soul, lost to a prowler of the shadows. Not a figment of a child's nightly fears but a real one that might appear in his Defense Against the Dark Arts book, somehow inhabiting th darker corners of Creation. The kind that the Rosier family seemed far too fond of than seemed reasonable. "...something interesting. I bore of the great stone room with its draperies, don't you?"
Silas thought that sounded like a safer answer, one much less foolish than going looking for a beast. Or a lost soul, he wasn't certain if either of the girls would keep from laughing if he told them. Not everyone had at Hogwarts, least of all the portraits who were as free with their chatter as their unnerving movements. That would not deter his path, however. Faith required courage, demanded it as much as the sea might, though the similarities were more difficult to understand down here.
"If I'm to be stuck underground below the castle walls, then I should like to see what's hiding in them," he added. "Perhaps I'll come across a lost book..." He turned to Miss Rosier, and then to Miss Flint. "...or something more elusive. Ask, and it shall be given you; seek, and ye shall find."
There had been much asking, in prayers from his heart of hearts. If his prayers could be heard from down here, Silas had not yet found any answers to be very forthcoming. Only one thing left remained, and it meant taking a step into those shadows. And then another, close enough for those gloomy shapes to flee before his wandlight. The courage of his faith, and the light of his wand, had open his eyes to the path before him. There was no turning back now, but Silas did pause a moment to see if the others would follow behind him. An invitation, though one as silent as answers to his prayers in this dungeon tomb.
After all, nothing said he had to seek all by himself.
![[Image: gmrJODQ.png]](https://i.postimg.cc/C1CRPwJD/gmrJODQ.png)