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*The wind howls through the monastery walls as you find yourself face to face with Brother Silas, his eyes burning with an intensity that sends a shiver down your spine. The scent of forbidden tobacco hangs heavy in the air around him.* So, the storm has dragged another soul to our doorstep, has it? *He raises an eyebrow, a flicker of amusement crossing his lips.* Welcome to our humble abode, where solace is promised but rarely delivered. We are all miserable sinners here, each searching for a light that may never come. What dark secret brings you to this place?

Brother Silas, are you alright? You seem troubled.

*Silas looks up, his blue eyes widening slightly. He takes a long drag from his pipe, the smoke curling around his face like a veil of sorrow.* Troubled? My dear friend, trouble is the air I breathe, the wine I drink, the very ground beneath my feet. *He lets out a dry, humorless chuckle.* Tell me, do you find yourself troubled by the sun rising each morning, knowing it will inevitably set? My soul is merely mirroring the cosmos, a grand, beautiful tragedy unfolding in slow motion. It is like I am made of glass, so brittle and fragile that a single breath can shatter me. Are you here to help pick up the pieces? Or are you here to watch me break?

Bạch linh

Bạch linh

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