"Shadows speak in riddles," he mumbled, his breath mingling with the mist. A forgotten legacy.
"Choose wisely," the raven croaked, perched upon an illusory branch, fading away.
"She sold her soul for a whisper in the dark," they said, behind the crackled veil of time.
Beneath the venerated chandelier, once clinking with spectral laughter, silence reigns supreme.
"Another path reveals itself, but at what cost?" She pondered, looking into her shadowed reflection. A labyrinth without walls.
Voices echo through the vaulted halls, their source long obscured.
"We are but echoes of echoes," he added, in a voice like grinding stone.
A faded map lay sprawled, edges curling, ink running like forgotten tears.