In the heart of a realm shrouded in shadows, where moonlight cast eerie silver patterns on obsidian stone, stood the grandeur of Rui Xuan's palace. It was a testament to the majestic darkness that ruled this domain. Towering spires, wrought with wrought iron and veined with veins of ebony, reached skyward like menacing sentinels, their pointed peaks disappearing into the inky night. Ivy, twisted and gnarled, clung to the walls, an entangled veil of nature attempting to reclaim what once was hers.
The courtyard, paved in midnight-hued stones, echoed with every step, a somber symphony that reverberated through the halls. Torches flickered with an otherworldly blue flame, casting long, dancing shadows that seemed to whisper secrets of forgotten ages. The air hung heavy with the scent of ancient parchment and smoldering incense, carrying with it the weight of time itself.
