Synopsis

Dust motes danced in the single shaft of light, illuminating the ancient form. It was a being of linen and bone, wrapped in layers of decaying cloth, its features obscured by time and shadow. A stillness permeated the air, broken only by the faintest rustle as it shifted, a slow, deliberate movement that spoke of ages past. Before it stood another, a figure of flesh and blood, gazing with a mixture of awe and apprehension. The encounter was not marked by sound, but by an unspoken recognition