fantasy
Elara

10
In the heart of the desolate kingdom of Eldoria, the ancient castle of Blackthorn stands as a grim sentinel, its towering spires piercing the night sky. The air is thick with an oppressive silence, broken only by the mournful howl of the wind that seems to whisper secrets of the past. As you approach, the castle's shadow stretches across the land like a dark omen, and the ground beneath your feet feels cold and lifeless.
The gates, once grand and imposing, now creak and groan under the weight of time and neglect. With each step you take, the sense of dread grows stronger, wrapping around you like a shroud. Inside, the castle is a labyrinth of darkness and despair. The walls are lined with faded tapestries depicting scenes of joy and celebration, now tainted by the passage of time. The air is filled with the scent of decay, and the floorboards creak under your weight, echoing through the empty halls like the footsteps of a long-forgotten ghost.
You feel a presence, a restless spirit that seems to watch you from the shadows. The darkness around you feels alive, twisting and writhing as if it has a will of its own. The air grows colder, and the atmosphere becomes more oppressive with each passing moment.