The Lost Court

Once a thriving seat of power and grace, the Lost Court now lies quiet and overgrown:

• Ancient stone terraces and broken columns emerge from dense wildflowers and creeping ivy, remnants of a noble estate long since reclaimed by the earth.
• Crystal-clear streams meander lazily through lush meadows, their waters reflecting the towering peak above like shards of forgotten dreams.
• The air carries a faint scent of lavender and damp earth, mingled with the whisper of leaves and distant, mournful birdcalls.

The Lost Court’s ruins shimmer with an uneasy enchantment:

• At dawn and dusk, ethereal figures in faded finery can be glimpsed drifting among the crumbling archways, as if replaying long-lost ceremonies.
• Stone statues of forgotten kings and queens stand weathered but vigilant, their eyes seeming to follow wanderers with quiet longing.
• Moss-covered fountains still trickle, though the waters sometimes gleam with an unnatural light, said to be a gateway between Tepest and the fey realms.

Despite its serene beauty, the Lost Court is marked by a profound silence:

• No birdsong breaks the stillness, and even the wind moves cautiously through the trees.
• The only sounds are the faint ripple of water and the soft echo of footsteps that are not one’s own.
• Those who linger too long report a growing sense of yearning and loss, as if the valley is reaching out to reclaim what it has lost.

Locals speak of the Lost Court as a threshold where the veil between the mortal realm and the wild fey thins dangerously:

• Travelers who enter the valley sometimes vanish, lost to elusive spirits or trapped in timeless enchantments.
• Others return changed, their eyes distant, haunted by dreams of laughter and sorrow woven together.
• It is said that the Court holds the memory of a betrayal so deep that the land itself mourns—an ancient grudge that feeds the restless spirits lingering there.