Story 407: The Sanctuary's Secrets

The air was thick with steam, carrying the faint scent of lavender and moss. Shadows flickered along the damp stone walls, cast by the countless candles that lined the room. Rook stepped cautiously into the ancient bathhouse, his boots echoing against the wet tiles. The tension from their narrow escape was still heavy on his shoulders, but the serene beauty of the place was disarming.

“This doesn’t look like a trap,” Shadow muttered, trailing behind him. She knelt to inspect the marble floor, running her fingers along the faint carvings. “But looks can be deceiving.”

Ghost leaned against the arched doorway, catching his breath. "If this is a trap, it’s the fanciest one I’ve ever seen. Who lights candles for their enemies?”