A chill wind swept through the chapel's dilapidated arches[^1]. Here, the moonlight whispered secrets to the dust, which remembered the laughter of long-forgotten voices. An echo of eternity lingered, always out of reach.
Underneath the tower, a door creaked open, revealing a labyrinth of memories[^2]. It was said that the walls themselves wept, mourning the lost souls of the corridors that never end.^3
Fleeting shadows danced at the edges of perception, not daring to breach the threshold just yet. Their stories untold, they whispered their names into the silence:^4
In the darkness, the hollowed words remained unreadable, save for those brave enough[^5] to seek the truth behind the illusory veil of whispers.
Yet, as the clock struck midnight, a single crow cawed, shattering the delicate peace and promising a dawn steeped in mystery.
1 From "The Gravedigger's Soliloquy" by Æthelric of the Night (1886). An account of the chapel’s spectral inhabitants.)
2 "Labyrinthine Pauses" (Vol. II) - A treatise on the architecture of sorrow by Ethelwyn Mirthwood.
3 [Unknown Source]
4 "Eldritch Whispers", a discussion of forgotten rumors and their bearers, possibly penned by Lela Skross.
5 An excerpt found in the margins of an old ledger owned by the widow of a lighthouse keeper, undated and unsigned.