The necropolis is truly a place of the dead. Silence permeates the place and the absence of the usual sounds of wildlife is almost haunting. You can hear your own breath and it is the closest I have ever felt in this world to being truly alone.
We swept up and down the entrances to the tombs, searching for that of Adonis, the dragonlord that Aesop held so dear.
We saw much of their feats in life. Xander, killing the basilisks. Another bringing silvery metals from a mine. Estor, setting out on his ship.
These feats are a mirror to our own. It may be that we follow in the footsteps of heroes, but it is the other things we see that worry me more.
The wars. The battles against the gygans that wiped them from the maps. The slaughter of hundreds. The subjugation of the minotaurs as they kneel at Rizon’s feet. Estor’s cruel smile as he slaughtered men, women and children. Even the dragon he rode seemed to be begging his mercy on those strewn before him.
The names of the dragons appeared on select tombs too- Sybolkorax, Tysophale, Balmytria, Raspytrion and lastly Arkyrania, the dragon that begged for the lives of the innocent.
I asked Kyrah about their names, being so close to those of the gods. Was it the gods that granted the dragonlords their mounts, their powers? But she refused to speak of it, her lips narrowing and hot, angry tears flooding her eyes.
We took some time to clear the tomb of Adonis, for Aesop. He at least seemed noble enough, if not well thought of given the inscription decrying his sword play upon the tomb. Perhaps if there had been a few more diplomats among their number and less fighters willing to raze things to the ground, we would be in a better place today.
As we prepared to follow the next stage of the prophecy I am both hopeful and worried. Worried because our path could easily become theirs as we grow in power. The lessons of my fathers’ arrogance from Lutheria’s madness just deepens that fear.
But hopeful too. We strode amongst the place of the dead today, buried with armaments, treasures, historical artefacts where not everywhere was consecrated to prevent them from being taken. Yet not one of my companions thought to take things for their own selfish gain.
Maybe there’s hope for us yet.