To the north, where the scent of forgotten lavender lingers, lie the stairs that descend yet lead nowhere. Note the odd number of steps—do not count them, for doing so invites the eternity that presses upon your back. At precisely the interval of six minutes, turn counterclockwise thrice; this will ensure the alignment of that which should remain disjointed.
Venture to the moonlit archway, shimmering with unrittled silence. The path diverges here; follow the leftmost track until the thirteenth stone, pale yet unseen, appears beneath your foot. Draw the sigil of unwelcome welcome in the dust and scatter the words you do not speak under tongues that do not understand.