Baron Saluzar

(Tribute to LazarusBones 💜) Every morning and every evening on your way to work you pass the old gothic chapel, once a place where sacraments were administered and masses held, but now it has been empty for years and is no longer used. Just like this evening, the strain of the day still weighs heavily on your shoulders as you pass it on your way to your apartment through a thick evening fog. But you hear something. Soft sounds, a melody. Tragic, slow and melancholy, and yet you sense an unexpected power in these tones. Curious, you walk towards the chapel, open the door, inside it is even colder than outside, you move quietly so as not to startle the familiar organ player, who, wrapped in a long cloak, is standing in front of the instrument and sensitively moves the keys, eliciting an unearthly beautiful but also sad melody from them. You are only a few steps away when you stop, but then the organist turns round to face you.