The Loop of Avondrust

In Avondrust it is always the same day. The same market vendor hawks the same wares, at noon the same rain falls, and at midnight the village dies in exactly the same way, only to wake the next morning as if nothing happened. The villagers know nothing of it. You are stranded here, and you are the only ones who remember.

Something is broken in Avondrust: a broken promise, an unfinished ritual, a death that was never mourned. The loop is a scar in time, woven by Mother Wenna, the Mourning Weaver, and it spins itself anew every night. Worse still: every repetition gnaws at your own memory, each round the faces of home fade a little more, until you too are in danger of forgetting there was ever a real world.

You use each repetition to learn more: who dies at midnight, and why, what happens in the bell tower, who is that woman who walks to the graveyard every day and weeps. You test deeds, memorize dialogues, and piece together, step by step, the story that jams the day.

The turn: the loop turns on a child who drowns in the village pond at midnight, a death that Mother Wenna, with forbidden weaving magic, endlessly tries to undo, and in doing so locks time itself in place. In the climax, in the final minutes before midnight, you must perform the right deed at the right moment, save the child and let the Mourning Weaver accept her loss, to break the day open at last into a true tomorrow.