The darkness of the fortress seemed to grow heavier as they ventured deeper, the oppressive atmosphere closing in around them. The only light came from the Heartstone in Elara's hand, its soft glow pushing back the shadows but doing little to dispel the unease that gnawed at their minds. The ancient stone walls were silent, but the group couldn't shake the feeling that they were being watched, as if the fortress itself was aware of their every move.
Morgana led the way, her magic sensing the currents of power that flowed through the fortress. The corridors twisted and turned, each one seemingly identical to the last, and yet there was a strange logic to them, a pattern that Morgana could just barely discern.
"These walls... they aren't just stone," she murmured, half to herself. "They're memories. The fortress is built on the echoes of the past, and every step we take is pulling us deeper into its history."