The smell killed his nose; it was like a rotten corpse was breathing in front of him, that was how bad it smelled. And it wasn't like he could have covered his nose, since the smell went through the fabric of his clothes.
Walking through the castle, he tried his best not to frown. After all, now that he saw the truth, he didn't want to go back, and of course, the others also didn't want to.
The corridors stretched endlessly, twisting like veins beneath pale light. Every few steps, something dripped, thick, slow, the sound of blood crawling down the walls. The marble wasn't marble; up close, it looked more like bone polished to a sick shine, with veins of gold running through it like parasites pretending to be holy.
Aether's boots left faint red prints. He didn't want to look down, didn't want to think about what the floor was made of. The scent clawed at him, half incense, half rot, like the air itself was trying to disguise what it was.
