An Ancient Soul

The door creaked. It was old and weak, cracks having formed around its edges over time. Rather, the whole room that Eiro was stepping out of was the same; the walls and floor were worn down, just short of falling to ruin. The furniture placed within, as well as the items that adorned them, were all much newer, but the base, the room that truly represented the state of Eiro's soul, it was old. But even that didn't compare to the space that he stepped into.

Ancient and cavernous, having fallen into complete and utter disrepair. A city built underneath a darkness that even the realm of shadows couldn't compare to. When the demon turned around, he could see a building. An old hut erected at the edge of this city, surrounded by large, tower-like trees that reached into the distance. How far, Eiro didn't know; he couldn't see further than a a few dozen paces into this forest, and none of his senses could tell him what was there, beyond the edge of his own soul.