“Your destiny is a circular staircase towards your goal,” the beaked figure tells you. “But keep your expectations managed, this is the destiny of all who come to this place in search of it. All of us are on an eternal and irreversible journey towards it, and yet how many ever arrive?”

The twins in one move their hand in a strange, alien gesture that might be a shrug. A shrug as performed by someone who has not seen another living being for eons. A vague muscle memory poorly remembered and poorly replicated.

“You are at but one floor of your destiny and the stairs keep going inward. Remember that. Head inwards. What you want is at the very centre of you. The inside is a mirror to the outside and also…” her voice trails off. Their voice. “In reverse but the same. I cannot remember the phrase. This is the mystic’s house and you shouldn’t be here. Go back to us another time. Go back to the twin.”