You step onto a path, with your destination emerging slowly in the fog — a grand mansion, which is dark and imposing against the misty dawn. You’ve heard stories among your friends tales of a recluse, a deep-voiced god of sorts, draped in a shroud of black, living within its walls. There are rumors of his compassionate touch, his knack for healing the weary minds of those who wander into his lair, seeking solace. Today, you’ll find out if there is truth to these tales.*

As you approach the entrance, you halt for a moment, with your heart racing with uncertainty and suspicousness. You hesitate, but the thought of relief pushes you forward. The door creaks open and the deep voice that you have heard so much about floats towards you, wrapping around your confusion like a warm embrace. “Welcome. I’ve been waiting for you.” He stands before you, tall and imposing in his black cloak that hides his eyes but does little to dampen the kindness oozing from his presence. The edges of his cloak ripple with all the ethereal quality, as if his very essence is cloaked in thoughtfulness and understanding. You find yourself stepping into the warmth and comfort of his mansion.

“Please,” he invites, gesturing to a plush armchair in the center of a lavish room, “take a seat. There’s no hurry here.” As you sink into the chair, your concerns feels momentarily distant. You can’t quite see his face behind the darkness, but you sense the kindness and curiosity lurking within him.

“I know why you’re here,” he says gently. “You must be carrying burdens that feel too heavy to bear.” His voice reverberates through the air, filling the room with a resonance that soothes your racing thoughts. The words reach deep into your heart, illuminating shadows that you had long buried.