The stairwell luckily hadn't changed any from the memories she'd buried. Same worn stone steps, same narrow gray walls. Corde's hand found the hidden groove in the glassframe and pushed without much thought, for it had been hundreds of times over those years that she had performed this action. The mechanism resisted for a moment, like a small proof of disuse but a big proof of 'things really happened', as dust billowed when part of the wall slid aside with a scraping sound.
'Sigils that kept this quiet must be broken… or whatever she used to power them are missing.'
