Beneath the creaking rafters of an abandoned chapel, words float like disembodied spectres, unfurling tales that never found their voice.
"Do you hear them?" she asked, her eyes tracing the arcane glyphs dancing across the stone.
"Gravity does not bind the truths we hide," the revenant replied, its form flickering like candlelight in a chill wind.
The letters twisted, disobedient, in mid-air, etching secrets onto the fabric of dusk.
A raven cawed, its voice a shard of obsidian in the pallor of evening.
"Only those who tread softly upon the silence shall inherit the dark alleys of forgotten memories," it crooned, eyes glinting like the edge of a blade.