Sacred Sanctuary

Nestled in the deepest woods, this storied temple cuts through the moonlight, a relic of some polis long-forgotten. Here, the epics of countless heroes were forged.
Once, the breezes here carried the melody of plucked lyre strings, the hyacinths grew blood-red, and minstrels sang of lost loves. Little by little, these memories and melodies have faded. It is now little more than the burial ground of forgotten dreams, but perhaps tomorrow the olive trees will bloom anew.