Traveling through the darkness, Monika and her companions reached a clearing. Before them was a wide field of black grass, swaying in the wind like a dark sea. Whistles danced over their leaves, impersonating voices in agony. A pointy shape emerged from the distance. It was hard to say what it is from their position.
- This is the Meadow of Voices. - Amadeus said. - And what lies in the distance is a tower that leads below, into the seventh Circle.
- Alright then. Let's hurry up. - said Monika.
The fellowship stepped into the swaying grass, making their way across the meadow. Monika noticed strange, smoke-like forms rising from the grass.
- Spirits of Forgotten lie here. - Amadeus whispered, as if he read her mind. - Try not to pay attention to them.
Dion was constan
