The Crack between the heavy Gate doors floods the cool dry darkness of the Cloister, painting a sharp gash against the inner wall down the long coiled space, caught by one of the many columns that disappear into the vaulted veiling and around the bend either way of this immense complex. The outer walls share this ornament, the brickwork of this face, old gaps of the larger stone stopped with Tuffa from the most recent eras, of necessity with the ever nearing, encroaching firmament. Narrow panes of the strongest crystal despite their youngness appear scuffed beyond transparency from the aggregate sands outside this fortitude. All they do now is save on burnables in the day. The passage continues around the bends, and on the inner walls exist two doorways, arteries deeper into this place of worship, you see light, some sense of eden emanate from the left of these, however the right shrouds itself from your vision.