Codex Entry: One in the Shadows #6

In the furthest reaches of the known realms, beyond kingdoms and cathedrals, lies a land forgotten by maps and feared in whispered legend. There, nestled within a hollowed mountain where sunlight dares not tread, exists a cloister that was never built, only revealed—Vey’rahn-Kel, the Vault of Silence.

It is said the cloister was not founded by monks or mystics, but by a shadow. A figure who walked in silence, cloaked in robes black as moonless ink, whose eyes bore the weight of uncounted truths. This being was no prophet, no priest—only a witness. A custodian of memories too terrible to forget, yet too dangerous to speak.

Those who have entered Vey’rahn-Kel speak of walls that breathe with ancient incense—Frankincense, burned unceasingly in brass thuribles, curling like ghostly prayers into the void. The leather-bound tomes lining the alcoves whisper to one another in languages no tongue dares mimic. And in the farthest cell, behind a veil of sacred ash, there rests a cloak suspended in air—still exuding warmth, still casting no shadow.

The scent of One in the Shadows is a ritual of memory:

Frankincense, haunting and reverent, marks the boundary between sacred and profane.

Enchanted Smudge, grounding yet ethereal, binds the space in stillness, like the hush of breath before confession.

Leather - Suede, worn and solemn, tells of cloaks once worn by those who knew too much and spoke too little.

This is not a candle.
It is an offering, lit in defiance of forgetting.