The Eclipse Conservatory of Whispering Vines A forgotten ballroom, overtaken by time, where massive tree roots have split the marble floors, weaving between rusted brass candelabras and shattered stained-glass windows. The domed ceiling, cracked by an eternal eclipse, allows a soft eerie red glow to filter in, casting surreal shadows on botanical tapestries woven with gold and obsidian threads. The scent of overgrown ivy, aged paper, and midnight rain lingers, while the sound of distant chimes, playing a tune no one remembers, echoes softly through the mist-laden air.