The fallen grandeur of lost hope

Parallel to our world and interpenetrating at many places lies a strange land. It seems characterized by a fallen grandeur. Something that once imagined itself noble, now fallen to decadence. Vast architectural endeavours lie unfinished. Stairs lead nowhere and once plush velvet, hangs in rags. The denizens of this realm are capricious and proud by ‘nature’. Their charming, light air can switch in a flash to frightening vengeance over slights real or imagined. Superficial beauty lies over a decaying core. Stories heard by the fireside on earth, talk of the ‘lost ones’ and the ‘damned.’
When the dreamer is chased by unknown assailants through dark entwined city streets or negotiates that impossible, unstable stair that lines the immense cavernous square tower; He is there.
This place is just somewhere to pass through. The wise do not linger.