Gothique Alkemia 2018

Hundreds of footsteps echo lost from the walls and stone floor of the cold monastic cathedral, where in the candle-dark murmurs of the hall you find yourself before a black altar. From heavy chalices before you, various resins are nebulized in equal parts according to Byzantine recipes for the purifying mass.
Brightly eucalyptus wafts the incense like glowing lights in the cold smoke, mingling with cassia and the smoky myrrh, as if one were burning tiger balm. The ethereal cinnamon from that cassia cleanses the body and invigorates your blood, the hour-long Eucalyptus Rider leaves within you a warming glow.
The sweeter cinnamon bark leads you to spikenard, which paints for you a woodsy-herbaceous image in this dark valley with vetiver, where moist warmth allows mushrooms to thrive, cedars shimmer bluishly in the moonlight, and amber trees scatter leaves. The land where labdanum flows resembles an orange candy, from its fruity mantle sweet golden flower honey streams away.
Thus, this experience ultimately reminds you of Sigil, the enchanting stranger, as well as of Bernschnuppen that sleep on snow blankets during the winter solstice. It bears the signature of alchemists, remains quiet and rather subtle, and can be a place where journeys begin at any time of the year.