The staircase was veiled with a thick darkness that played tricks on her eyes. Layna could only see the walls within arms reach and the steps just in front of her, but all else faded into shadow and nothingness. She couldn't even see the ceiling above her, but it must be there since she could only hear the storm outside but not feel.<br/><br/>Down by her feet the staircase mural progressed through a story - a man, a king, receiving men from all nations and accepting their tributes. It was not unlike the old stone etchings she'd seen in very old castles. But soon the mural continued the story, and the tale grew darker. It showed monsters and armies, it showed lust and rape, and the birth of abominations. The etchings once clear and almost formulaic became erratic, as if made by a frightened hand by the end.<br/><br/>There was a shuffling noise ahead of her. Try as she might Layna couldn't pierce the dark with her bright eyes, but she could hear footsteps ahead keeping pace with her, as if stopping now and then to look back before scurrying away.