You follow me through the archway, and find yourself in a scented room whose stone walls rise up to a slightly vaulted ceiling. The dirt of the floor seems warmer in the light of the two large flames, dwarfing my candle, that burn by the north wall. A few pillars emerge from the ground near the center of the room and ascend to the ceiling, casting gently wavering shadows.
Each of the two flames is in a brasier; each brasier is set on a piece of stone that extends outwards from the wall. Between the two is a portion of stonework that looks to be of different craftsmanship than the rest of the wall, and much newer. A single large slab of stone is inset vertically into the wall here, high up and not quite flush with the rest. Words are inscribed upon its surface.
Walking over to join my unmoving form in front of it, you see that the stone reads:
CERTAIN THINGS I WILL HAVE SAID BEFORE I DIE.
Directly in front of the slab are three brass stands, acting as podia. On one I have set down my candle in its ceramic holder; on the center one rests a single sheet of paper. On the third are three more unlit candles in finger-ring candleholders.
Strong words. My voice breaks the silence.
This room was used for prayer. I find that it still carries with it some of that ambience.
It is a good place to come and reflect on things. There is much that I need to think about. If you wish for a moment of meditation, feel free to stay here. It's quieter than the upstairs. Otherwise, feel free to take a candle and wander around. Just be careful of your footing --- the floor slopes in places, and you might bang your shin on something in the dark.
You take a candle from the third brass stand, and carefully light it from one of the brasiers. The only way out of this room, besides the way you came in, is a similar archway to the east. You head slowly through it into another room.