Marrowglen Virethollow House and the Parlour Where Breath Once Gathered

Stepping into the parlour of Marrowglen Virethollow House feels like entering the last exhale of a life once measured and deliberate. The air is thick with wool, cooled tea, and paper left too long in shadow. Upholstery curves inward, as though leaning toward a conversation paused mid-sentence.

The Disciplined, Tender Routine of Ellarine Virethollow

Ellarine Virethollow, a tutor of household writing and small-figure arithmetic, lived here with her brother Junin, a novice frame-maker whose commissions fluctuated sharply with the season. Ellarine shaped the writing berth into a haven of order: quills trimmed evenly, practice slips aligned in narrow stacks, blotters placed with patient precision. She paced a small, practiced loop before each session, whispering through the sums she planned to teach. As Junin’s income dwindled and her own joints stiffened with winter, the household’s rhythm faltered. Lessons grew rare. Sheets waited unmarked. Ink rims thickened and clung. The berth sagged into quiet disorder, mirroring Ellarine’s slipping hold on her once-steady routine.

The Corridor Where Her Step Faltered First

In the north corridor, Ellarine’s boots rest angled beneath a narrow shelf, their laces stiffened into rigid spirals. Junin’s frame corners, half-finished and unjoined, lie scattered near the baseboard. A cracked lamp chimney sits beside a dust cloth she meant to reclaim.

The Scullery Where Habit Drifted Out of Reach

Inside the scullery, mugs hold thin residues of long-cooled tea. A kettle rimmed with mineral chalk sits beside the smooth stone Ellarine once pressed to her aching wrists. A linen apron hangs slack from its peg, its last crisp fold softened into formless drape.

At the landing’s end, Ellarine’s final corrected sheet—ink faint, margins trembling—rests beneath a shawl she never reclaimed. Junin’s unfinished frame corner lies beside it, edges softened by time. Marrowglen Virethollow House settles deeper into stillness, its rooms dimming quietly, indefinitely abandoned.