Shards of the Past

The tall windows let in the soft afternoon light, Delphinia, no older than seven, tiptoed carefully down the corridor leading to her father's office. Her small hands clutched the folds of her dress nervously as she glanced around to make sure no one was watching.

The door to the office loomed before her, its dark oak surface polished to a mirror-like shine. It was always shut, a silent reminder that this was her father's domain—a place where she was forbidden to go. But today, curiosity and longing outweighed fear.

She pushed the heavy door open just enough to slip through, her heart pounding in her chest. The room smelled of leather and old paper, the faint scent of her father's cologne lingering in the air. Shelves lined with books stretched up to the ceiling, their spines gleaming in the dim light. A large desk sat at the center of the room, papers neatly stacked, with a globe positioned by the window.