It’s a beautiful evening for a stroll. The leaves have really reached their peak, and the countryside is in its splendor of reds and golds. Somewhere in the woods, a mockingbird sings. The false stars provide a comforting sight, despite the sad truth of what their presence involves.

Mulcahy’s path leads him astray of anything familiar, and suddenly, he finds himself at a small collection of buildings he’s never seen before. A small sign is just barely readable by the light of the heavens: “Weynon Priory”

The chapel door seems to have been left open…