Sketching her Shadows

The moon cast long shadows as Satya stepped through the palace ruins once more. The air was thick with dust, carrying the scent of time itself. He had searched this place before, but something told him he had overlooked an important clue.

His footsteps echoed as he traced his fingers along the cold stone walls, scanning every crack and crevice. The feeling in his chest was different tonight—like a whisper calling him deeper inside.

Then, in the farthest corridor, behind a broken tapestry, his fingers brushed against something unusual. A faint outline of a door.

The Forgotten Basement

Satya hesitated for only a moment before pushing against the hidden panel. It groaned under his touch, revealing a narrow staircase descending into darkness.

His pulse quickened.

Why does this feel so familiar?

He stepped down carefully, the wooden steps creaking under his weight. A stale, cold air greeted him as he reached the bottom. The room before him was vast, yet suffocatingly silent. The walls were lined with old shelves, their contents long decayed. But at the center of the room stood a single door—its surface carved with intricate patterns that sent a shiver down his spine.

His hand trembled as he reached out. The moment his fingers touched the handle, the world around him blurred.

Fragments of the Past

A sudden rush of images flooded his mind—too fast to grasp, yet too vivid to ignore.

A candlelit room, this very chamber, filled with scattered parchments.

His own hand, sketching furiously, as if time was running out.

A shadow at the doorway—a woman's silhouette.

A whisper, soft yet urgent: "You shouldn't be here."

The feeling of something slipping from his fingers… a letter, or was it a promise?

A sudden force, a struggle… the flash of a blade…

Satya gasped and staggered back, his head spinning. The vision faded, but the unease in his chest remained.

This chamber was important. Something had happened here.

And whatever it was…

It was worth killing for.

What Lies Beyond

Satya steadied his breathing. He had come too far to turn back now.

He reached for the door again, feeling the cold metal against his palm.

What secrets did this chamber hold? And why did it feel like he was stepping into a memory rather than reality?

Whatever the answer was, he would uncover it in time.

Because the past was no longer just a story.

It was waiting for him.