Scene - A strange courtyard

A profound sense of haunting melancholy enveloped the palace grounds. The sight was a symphony of poignant reminders, evoking the faded grandeur and transforming the joy into bittersweet echoes of its past glory. One could almost hear the laughter spilling into the air, the clack of goblets raised in celebration, the chime of coins as they rained from balconies into eager hands. Now, however, the palace’s grandeur had curdled into a kind of bittersweet relic. The weight of towering glasses and goblets of any shape imaginable strained tables at every turn, squat tankards intricately etched with unfamiliar runes, delicate tulips with glass so thin that a mere breath could send shivers through their crystalline bodies.   Thousands of keys were scattered in various forms—trodden into the sand, hanging from strings and straps, or stacked precariously into towers with stones or pottery on top.   The floors, previously adorned with intricate mosaics, were now hidden under mounds of aged copper coins, piled into small hills and valleys, the faces engraved on the coins displaying a vast, forgotten gallery: kings and queens in regal profile, grinning jesters, stone-faced children, wild-eyed sorcerers, and some with features so worn by passing time that they were little more than eerily blank ovals.   A lone figure wandered somewhere through the palace grounds, their footsteps echoing with an uncanny clarity. As they passed by one of the many mirrored corridors, something occasionally distorted behind the glass, disappearing before one could fully grasp its form – like a fading thought. Open arched windows gave way into strange chambers: entire walls lined with painted eyes that followed one’s every movement; a parlor with chairs arranged in ritual circles, their seats dusted with ancient petals; a chamber where a thousand clocks ticked in mismatched tempos, none in time with the others.   Amidst these strange collections, one singular sight stood out—a lone broom, sweeping tirelessly in the center of the empty courtyard. Its motion spoke volumes of a relentless yearning to erase the dust that was clouding its forgotten purpose. Above, the twilight sky cast an eternal shroud, seemingly suspending the moment beyond the grasp of time.