Vyan felt like he was drifting through a dream too long to remember the beginning of. The kind of dream where time curled in on itself, where the hours whispered eternity.
His feet moved, yet he couldn't say why. For what purpose? His heart beat, yet it felt hollow and muted, like it was echoing in someone else's chest.
The place he wandered around… was it a palace? Because the house was so big. It was never-ending.
The countless hallways blurred into each other, ceilings stretched high above, ranging from ballrooms to bed chambers, and every door he opened led him further from familiarity.
Faces passed him, voices murmured in tongues he once might have known. But none of it was his. Nothing called to him. Or maybe they did. It was him he couldn't recognize.
Then, the light began to die.
Shadows thickened. And ahead, there were stairs. Worn stone steps spiraling downward, where warmth didn't follow.
His legs followed the inviting darkness. He descended.
