You lower yourself through the trapdoor with careful, silent movements, the wood creaking only once beneath your weight. Cold air rises from below, carrying the smell of damp stone and something sharper, like ozone after lightning. Your invisibility cloak brushes the steps as you descend into a narrow chamber lit by a pale, shifting glow. Ahead, the whispering becomes a real murmur, threaded with urgency and fear.

At the bottom, you find a hidden room lined with old storage crates, chalk symbols, and a circle of candles burning with blue flame. Two figures in dark robes stand over an open book set on a low table, their voices hushed but tense. One of them turns slightly, and your scar jolts with warning as if the castle itself recoils. You crouch in the shadow, realizing this is no ordinary meeting, and the next move could expose everything.