Elena moved around the room with deliberate grace, her feet gliding across the tiled floor as though she were weightless. Her hands danced through the air, fingers curling and uncurling in rhythm with the low, whisper-like chants that tumbled from her lips.
The words she spoke were foreign, old, and laced with a power that made the air hum and thicken around her. A pale, golden aura seemed to shimmer faintly around her, flickering each time her voice dipped into a deeper register. She had walked the entire perimeter of the room, pausing now and then to etch invisible sigils into the air with her fingers, before arriving once again at the doorway.
"Go ahead and open it," Elena said, her voice barely above a whisper, yet firm with authority.
