The Three Faces of Spring

You enter a circular chamber where cold blue light leaks through a domed ceiling painted with unfamiliar constellations. A dry fountain trickles despite having no visible source, and a bronze dais occupies the center of the room. Three seals are set into it: a flowering branch, a tightly wound coil, and a falling drop. Each gives off a faint pulse as you approach. On the north wall, a silver gate remains dark, while the air around it trembles with the promise of distant birdsong, turning gears, and rushing water.