A corridor mired in darkness yet draped in silk.
Thin veils hung from the ceiling, layering one behind another until the far end of the passage was nothing but a spot of white.
There were small gaps above the silken threads as pale light filtered through. As the light caught onto the silken veils, the finely woven threads soon resembled strands of moonlight drifting down from above.
Even the most gentle of gusts would cause the surface to ripple like a lake as silver light danced across the polished floor.
Beautiful in every way, sacred for the followers of the moon.
*Clack
A woman stepped through the corridor without care for such a sight.
Her heels clashed against the floor, a harsh sound that echoed through this otherwise sacred corridor.
Though the heels were harsh, her steps were composed. Unhurried and devoid of any panic or uncertainty.
A certain sense of grace that couldn't be faked.
However, despite the lack of uncertainty in her movements…
Her eyes drifted.
