Once owned by a wandering soul, this brass compass doesn’t point north but rather to what you cherish most. It lies in an unassuming leather case, aged and cracked, almost begging to be held again.
An ornate silver locket, said to contain the echoes of a love once lost. Inside, there are no photographs, only the gentle stirrings of memories untold. It clinks softly, as if weeping for tales long forgotten.
This dark disk absorbs light, believed to shield its possessor from the unseen shadows. Its surface is cold and smooth, reflecting the world in a distorted yet strangely comforting manner.