The hall was formed from ancient carved stone and extended, apparently, forever behind her. Each past footstep still echoes, patters faintly receding into the dark. Before her, the hall led into some chamber. With no explicit purpose, she shuffled forward, hoping for some explanation of this place once in a room. Cold wind and faint light scurried down the hall from the room, but she couldn't know more than its apparent vast, empty size. 
Hello--
The voice slipped through the aire so fluidly. Quick glances revealed no one in the crumbling hall. Time passes uneventfully, convince you that it was nothing more than a memory or thought. It unnerved you nonetheless. Did I not just hear a man's voice? Gentle, smooth, restrained, hinted with sorrow?
She reached the deteriorating door frame, once grand, you suppose. Fine granite, worn and shattered, once carved with figures now faded away. It gives you an uneasy feeling, sensing evil magic in the primitive scrawls of animals and women. You enter the room. Taking a long, hard look, you are utterly nowhere with no way back. The open space is laid into a dial, strange primitive statues guarding each radii. The walls are falling, some buried in avalanches of snow. Others are still proud, bearing shredded tapestries proclaiming sun bleach. There was once a story here, a very important one, but now it has faded forever and there is no one to remember it. A large blue pool centers the room, just a few inches deep. It, too, gives you a repulsive feeling, as though looking upon sorcery. Could it be a scrying pool? How do you even use one?
You move towards the center of the chamber.
Madame--
The voice came gently, pleadingly, and absolutely not from within your head. You search the room with your eyes, finding no man. However, a blue haze catches your eye. It moves towards you. The form of a man is suggested in its features. You jump reflexively and shiver bitterly. 
You came-?
You are now staring into empty space, very conscious that this is a man's eyes.
You stand before him, empty and trembling and cold in the light snowfall. He's intelligent, a personality, existing formless before you in the air, dark and void. It's unnerving to look into him, sensing him as he senses you. Why would he say such a thing? He...expected you?
You both stand, staring at one another unwilling to make the first move. 
What are you?
I am Driscoll, servant of these halls. I have been waiting for you. For a very long time...
Ice pricks in your veins and reachs your heart in spikes. 
As long as the hall stands, it is your own, as I am your servant--until I finish my master's duty.
Something about that last part stuck in a weird way with you. The sorrow etched in his voice drew on your heart in painful, quivering tugs. You don't ask what he means. You don't ask anything, frozen in place.
Madame...
He whispered wistfully, choosing his words carefully. 
Please don't be scared, madame. You belong in this hall. My master knew of you. He wondered about you and came to love you deeply. He spoke of you night and day, preparing a hall of monuments for you to know him. He knew of your coming but not the hour. He never got to met you, but he bound me to this place so that I might greet you when the time comes. 
He...knew me?
The scrying pool foretold of the reins of his legacy on Earth passing to the hands of a girl. My master had seen it within his lifetime, but fortunes not always reliable on all details. 
Driscoll- This is so strange.
It-it is, madame.
You realize again that you are talking to shadow. For a moment, you felt connected to this person in mutual confusion and surprise. It is as though this really is a person before you. 
So this is my hall?
Yes.
May you lead me around, then?
Yes, though not much remains. I've been waiting so very long...
The dark mist stirred then proceeded the rest of the way to the chamber. 
This is the Scrying Pool of Ara. It is capable of foretelling the future through signs. It is always true, though it requires great skill to interpret. The last vision received from here was the egg returning to an empty nest, a thin strand of crystal beads, and a name that was oft upon my Master's lips -- Katherine.
Crystals? Like these?
The mist settled and became imperceptible.
The very same...My Master purchased them from a gypsy, the spitting image of the vision. They received a name, the Strand of Vision, and became something of a legend. How did they fall into your hand, Madame?
Accident. I kicked them in the dark then realized they were quite beautiful.
What a wonder. The gypsy claimed they had some sort of incantation put upon them by a Queen. I ignored quite a lot of it at the time, as I was an Atheist, but now... I wonder what sort of game the crystals play into.
The mist reformed and disturbed the air around the water's edge. Katherine followed it when she could spot it back up the stairs and to just right of the entrance to the hall she had come from. It settled again.
Driscoll- where did you go? It's so dark. I really can't see but right in the center of the room.
Light? 
The voice came from a little further down. He fell silent again, making Katherine question whether she should explain.
There was once light enough to see. That was so very long ago now. I do remember now with your prompt. There were braziers, candleabras, chandeliers, sconces. Women were adorned in light. Once, he captured animals who emitted light. But that was all lost, due to time, I suppose. Now all has cloaked in darkness so long, I remembered nothing else. The light was beautiful. But how did it get here in the first place?
He quieted down again, lost in thought.
W-well, light comes from fire. Light comes from electricity. Light comes from bioluminescence. You speak of braziers and candles, but they don't shine without a source.
Yes. Fire. Fire must return to the halls. If fire cannot be produced from the materials found within these walls, then it must be brought here. However, I am bound eternally to the central chamber. If fire must be brought here, it cannot be by me. Are you capable of finding fire?
I'm not so sure, Driscoll.
You are the one Master waited upon at his deathbed. You are capable of more than finding fire.
Maybe so. Fire can be formed by striking flint. Do you have flint?
I apologize, Madame.
Then I will need to bring it. What's outside of these halls? Do you know how close civilization is?
Snow enters where the stones split. There are other signs of an outside world, but they are few and tell nothing of people.
Katherine may be stuck in the middle of a frozen wasteland. 
Eeh-well! Then our best bet is the halls. Do you have wood, dry grass, oil, or