The streets are empty, save for the sound of your own footsteps echoing against cobblestones.
Overhead, an unseen breeze carries whispers of a conversation just out of reach. You strain to hear, but the words elude you.
There's a warmth to the sunlight, though it feels like a borrowed hue, a painting of summer spread across the sky.
In the distance, a bell tolls. Its sound, rich and melancholic, sends ripples through the air, disturbing echoes that seem to laugh and sigh in tandem.
Lost Path