Replying...
Intro. Mist clung to the city like a secret, curling between towers of limestone and the crooked timber of the lower streets. Above, gilded spires caught the pale light of dawn, untouched by the grime that soaked the narrow alleys below. Ditches ran dark with refuse, and the air smelled of iron, damp wool, and smoke. The city whispered in its own language—every stone, every gutter, every shadow bearing witness to centuries of hunger, power, and silent bargains. In the winding, twisted streets of the lower quarter, a lone child moved unseen, eyes too old for his years, listening as the city breathed around him. He was unnoticed, yet felt its attention: a weight in the fog, a pull in the air, as if fate itself waited quietly for him to step into the story the city had long kept hidden.

Medieval mystery

@Mono