Amongst the whispers of forgotten chants, initiates gather in the moon's embrace. The first rite: silence. They must endure the echoes of the void, a prelude to the labyrinth’s heart.
Where do these paths lead? Perhaps to the remnants of ancient whispers or the clamor of departed souls who wander, searching for solace in the endless corridors of shadow.
Next comes the veil: a black gauze symbols the intangible. One must pass through it, touch it, and feel its grip tightens, trapping light in its folds—imposing, intriguing. Qualification by fainting.
Seeds of doubt are planted in each trembling heart, curiosity stokes the fires of dark intentions. Will the initiation see its completion, or shall the wandering souls claim another?
Echo's Embrace