The Remnants of Pryr

Chapter 1

If your life were a book and laid open in front of you, would you be tempted to tear out certain pages from your past? You could leave specific events crumbled and forgotten on the floor, never to be read by anyone. But that would not be the truth.

Know that I am gone, and most likely so is everyone else in my world. What you will read here are the words of the dead and disappeared. Our struggles were not completely ineffectual, however. The fact that you are reading this book means that survival happened somehow.

The people of Pryr deserve to have their tales told. Even the horrible people with their horrendous stories. Regardless of whether some events are distorted or immoral, and despite any contradiction or partiality.

I chose Hyd’s tale of the Provenance to be the first document I present in this collection. This origin is only one version of several. The details of each fluctuate, depending on who’s telling the story. People will believe whatever reality they can justify the best. I wanted to share Hyd’s account not just because it is the oldest, but because I am compelled to demonstrate the potential of my world.

We had hope, shades of it at least. Later in this assortment, there may be pages I regret including. Betrayals will lead to broken hearts. Questions asked with unwanted answers. Hubris unbound. I could have left out these degrading chapters from our history and only chosen pleasant samples for this book. But that would not be the truth.

Isten As Is Memory, Archivist

Provenance By Hyd The Primary

Before time could be measured there was only The Nothing. Vast and miniscule simultaneously. To depict it as an empty blackness would give it too specific of a description. There was no black, there was no color. There was exclusively The Nothing. Into this nonplace entered the quintet of power. Five flawless beings. Kirown with her glorious intelligence. Gryfeen with his wondrous vitality. Kimuray with her remarkable awareness. Heedray with her fantastic emotions. Drayjon with his momentous strength.

Working together the five called into existence the Elemental Colossus. An immense behemoth of iron flesh and crystalline blood. At first, the five were proud of their creation. Eventually though, they found disappointment. The beast was flexible in neither body nor mind. The Elemental Colossus was incapable of development, of authentic change. It was decided among the five that the giant be dismantled, but it did not want to end its existence. Belligerently, it fought to live. The battle that commenced lasted for five cycles. 

On the first day, it was noted that with hands alone the giant could not be subdued. Kirown took the initiative to create weapons to avail them. She produced an ax for herself as well as armaments for the others. They assaulted with intensity. This helped to weaken the Elemental Colossus, but it would not suffice. 

On the second day, Kimuray used her heightened senses to decipher the giant's weak spots. She used her dagger to attack those targets, aided by her companions. They struck strategically. This worked but the effects were minimal. 

On the third day, Heedray discovered she could feel the emotions of the giant and so could predict when it would charge. With spear in hand Heedray gave orders to defend or attack. They timed their volleys. This gave them the advantage but only temporarily. 

On the fourth day, Gryfeen noticed how close to losing they were. Gryfeen then granted all members of the five immortality. Armed with his sword and the group's new immunity they attacked the Elemental Colossus. This ensured their survival but did not guarantee victory.

Yet on the fifth day, they were still at a stalemate with the Elemental Colossus. It was Drayjon with his shield that turned the tide of battle. As the others fell upon the behemoth it opened its enormous mouth to scream. With a mighty throw, Drayjon cast his shield into the beast’s mouth. The disc lodged firmly in the back of the giant's throat, choking off its air. It could not breathe and fell over dead. 

Out of the numerous wounds, the giant's blood flowed and formed the Acidic Sea. Kirown used the giant's body for the land at the center of the sea. Gryfeen dissected the giant and took out its brain, placing it high up to become the sun. Heedray took what air was in the lungs of the giant and made the wind. Kimuray took out the beast's inner organs and molded them into tiny animals and plants. Drayjon took out the giant's teeth and flung them up, far into the darkness to become the stars. 

The five strode upon their new land and declared its name to be Pryr. They saw the world was good and they were proud again. These five of great power then rested and surveyed this land of their creation with weary contentment. They would protect this new world. They would stand watch even unseen. To hold back The Nothing, a blanket of sky was cast above the land. Each of the five would forever give of themselves to hold the sky in place. Ever watchful, they became the Pillars That Hold up the Sky.

Hyd The Primary, The Sealed Scrolls. 

Cycle: Unknown. Presumably during the Age of the Divinities, circa 2300.

Chapter 2

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The Oasis is gone. It is dried up and blown away by the winds of time. The Primary passed on accounts of this lost paradise, but they are limited in quantity and vague in description. I am immeasurably fortunate to have procured this document as it is one of a kind. The piece’s author is also unique. Who else but Chyro can claim to bear witness to the beginning and end of an entire world? Pity mixes with envy into an amalgamated feeling that can only be described as solemn ambivalence.

Isten As Is Memory, Archivist

The Oasis By Chyro The Primary

Each turn of night into day brings with it a new test. I hold myself in judgmental scrutiny, constantly exploring opportunities to demonstrate growth. I do this because the Pillars That Hold up the Sky care for us so vehemently. I am self aware enough to admit that I desperately desire acknowledgment from my mentor as well as the other Pillars. They gave us life, a home, and a purpose. They teach us with thoughtful guidance and unrelenting patience. It is for them that I dedicate my focus to the objective lens through which I evaluate so thoroughly. Doing my absolute best is the least I can do for them. 

The ten of us started today at the Learning Circle like so many before it. The perfectly smooth stone was hewn in two descending rings. The pattern of perpendicular cuts creates seats of cold slabs of solid rock. A crater with right-angled rings. I and the four other proteges in the inner, lower tier of the circle and our five mentors on the outer band, one step higher. The floor of the bottom ring is only as deep as I am tall, my head almost parallel with the unmolested ground surrounding the enclosure. With all of us here together it becomes noticeable just how much darker the skin of our mentors is. The pale gray hue of our adolescent skin tone was comparatively darkened around our instructors’ creases and tiny wrinkles. . Then again no, not darker exactly, just less bright somehow. I can assume age and exposure will do the same to my face eventually. I tried to stay focused on the current situation,. Unfortunately, my thoughts meandered away from the prescribed subject and, as usual, settled on a different point in time.

I envisioned what it must have been like numerous cycles ago when our mentors constructed all of this. Our encirclement was carved out of the ground by the empty hand of Kirown Pillar of Stone. Shaded by enormous trees with branchless trunks that stretched silently upward until they interlocked into a leafy green canopy far above us. Were the tree's features planned before creating them, or did it happen more coincidently, as the process was being accomplished? What came first: the Oasis or the idea of it?

I was caught off guard when Gryfeen Pillar of Sun called my name. Chyro, what do you think? Share your thoughts with us. Gryfeen’s golden hair blew faintly in the wind and for a moment I was a little stunned by how strong the edges of his jaw and chin looked. Confidence hovered around Gryfeen like an invisible fog.

I am sorry, what was the question? I said earnestly.

Kimuray Pillar of Beasts leaned down toward me and rested her elbow on her bent knee. The largest of the Pillars sighed quietly and remarked, We were discussing life. And Gryfeen’s question was simple. Why do we live? Then the broad purple robed shoulders of Kimuray leaned back against the brown dirt of the circle's wall. 

Gryfeen calmly explained, We have already heard from some of the other proteges. Cimer said the answer is ‘to create’ and Grife gave her answer: ‘to have,’ but we are curious about your answer. 

I already looked foolish for not paying attention, so now I felt pressured to give a distinguished response. Here was today’s test and I was failing before it even began. 

Why do we live?’ I asked. You mean why do we live while the ground, and the water, and the wind do not? Why do we have thoughts, and turn those thoughts into actions? I was stalling, trying to give my mind time to manifest a satisfactory answer, but I had to say something. Well, to be honest, I do not know. I would like to gather more information before I present any sort of definitive answer." Had I embarrassed myself? I could feel the eyes of the other proteges on me.  

Sitting next to me was Drago. She added to my insecurity by saying, That's not any kind of real answer! That's just an admission of ignorance. You must have some kind of idea, Chyro. You can't simply not know. 

Drago had a tone of indignation hiding under each syllable. The pointy features of Drago’s face turned to the others in the circle, searching for agreement. This was her way of ingratiating herself with the Pillars. Pointing out my flaws made her look better by comparison.

It was quiet enough to hear the wind whistle through the canopy. Kirown Pillar of Stone stood up. Tiny flakes of light from the holes in our leaf ceiling swayed over the statue that was Kirown the Pillar, wisest of us all. The patches of shadow looked almost black on the cloth of her dark purple attire. Her lavender eyes settled on me, and I could just barely make out a hint of a smile at the edge of my mentor's mouth. 

She said softly, Knowing nothing is the first step to knowing anything. The empty vessel has more volume to be filled. I nodded my head in appreciative agreement. 

You five proteges were grown as the people you are. More people will be made. How is this done? Kirown spread her hands open as if she expected us to hand her something. She turned her pleading gaze to us, holding each for a moment in turn. I knew instinctively that the question was more than literal. Kirown was asking something deeper.

Grife straightened her posture, the short cut yellow hair of her head balanced atop a slender neck giving her an impression of rigidity as well as grace. Eager as always to impress her mentor Gryfeen, she was usually the first to offer an answer. We were molded in the image of our mentor. The absence of choice on behalf of the protege is what streamlines the process and makes growth effective. The hard lines of Gryfeen’s face relaxed into a prideful smile. The other four Pillars gave no expression. 

As fluid as water, Drayjon Pillar of Stars leaned forward, tying up his long white hair into a bun. Allow me to rephrase the question. If people can be shaped, so too can worlds be shaped. The process is strikingly similar in both cases. What my fellow mentor is asking is this: What is the best way to shape something? The patient hand or the hard chisel? And more importantly, for what purpose is this done? To what end? Drayjon crossed one leg over the other and adjusted his purple vestments as he waited for a response. 

No one answered. We furrowed our brows and stroked our chins in contemplation. The sound of awkwardly shifting feet on the dirt and several struggling sighs were the only sounds within our circle. We pondered the issue a few moments longer until Kimuray stood, her imposing bulk stepped out past the ring and she said kindly, Come let us move the lesson. 

As we walked, the trees spread further apart and the canopy opened, allowing the sun to cover us. Down a slight embankment of glowing green grass, we reached a stream winding its way around the edge of our columned forest.

A flock of water birds floated lazily on the surface of the stream, paddling slightly against the current and diving under the water only to resurface a moment later chewing on something in their orange beaks. At the edge of the stream, a pair of shaggy monohorns waded ankle deep in the slow moving water, drinking and chewing mouthfuls of the long grass that ran the length of the bank. Kimuray waved her large hand to one side and the water birds flapped their wings and took to the air. Kimuray waved her hand to the opposite direction and the two monohorns ambled downstream.

Heedray Pillar of Wind knelt at the edge of the stream, cinched up the loose cloth of her purple robes with one hand and scooped water with her other. She took a sip from her cupped hand and looked at each of us. 

Together you are capable of great things. Momentous things. She stood and motioned to the Pillars standing next to her, We created you with purpose in mind. Someday long from now we hope that you will realize your full potential. Today you catch fish.  

Drago scoffed ever so slightly, finding the contradictory irony of Heedray’s statement to be humorous. She quickly stifled her laughter and pointed her knife edged features straight down to her feet avoiding eye contact with anyone.

Heedray’s protege was the first of us to take action. Hyd tied back his shoulder length black hair making it shiny and smooth against his head as he said to the Pillars, If there are fish, I will gather them for us. Each of us will share on what I find. He stepped a few paces into the slow moving water and dove under. He came up for air randomly with a gasp, only to dive under again to continue fishing. 

Cimer turned to the stream and looked up and down its length in both directions. He put his fists on his hips and let out a long slow breath. He paced back and forth for a few steps then stopped. With his lips pursed and eyebrows angled in a contemplative scowl he stood and barely moved. His arms, covered by the short white fur of his jacket were crossed tightly across his torso only to be unlinked to curl his unruly brown hair behind his ears. Cimer stopped moving and his eyes glazed over as he stared unblinking at the stream. 

Grife strolled confidently past Cimer and waded out to the center of the stream until the water was as high as her waist. She drew her sword while keeping her other hand free, her fingers spread and ready for grasping. She looked down at the flowing water quickly darting her head back and forth scanning for any targets. Drago said mockingly, Is that really your plan? You're going to slay a fish with your sword? In that pretty head of yours you really think that's going to work, you’ve thought that through? Grife ignored the jab however and only gripped the handle of her sword with both hands. 

Drago shook her head dismissively and began to gather reeds and long leaves from the plants that grew sporadically at the stream's edge. She sat with her legs crossed and worked at manufacturing a long wooden rod that had a length of braided cord at one end. A thorn was tied at the end of the cord. Drago looked back at each of the Pillars and said, If its fish my masters want, then it is fish I will provide in abundance. Using the reed as a handle she flung the length of the cord out into the water. The sharp thorn plopped half way across the stream and Drago turned to give a smile and nod over her shoulder to the Pillars. 

I didn't realize it at the time, but I wasn't even facing the water. I was staring at our mentors. They each stood with an indescribable permanence. Strong, tall and unmoving, the Pillars seemed more like a part of the landscape than animate creatures capable of movement. Drayjon’s eyes met mine and he smiled. 

Tell us your thoughts Chyro. The other Pillars turned to me. I suddenly felt small. Surrounded by five violet mountain peaks I was a pebble. But my mentor taught me the bravery of truth. If it is honest then there is no shame. I looked at Kirown and she nodded. I would like to know why. Please, I said. Kimuary responded without a hint of condensing in her voice, Why what Chyro? 

I mean why catch a fish? I know we need to eat and all life must kill to live. But, there must be something more. It’s not just about food, is it? Why are we doing this? The Pillars were silent. I reflexivity apologized, feeling my audacity had offended them. But Kimuray put her hand on my shoulder and said, Do not apologize if you have not done anything to warrant it. It is a good point you bring up. To ask ‘Why. It is the why’s that will make us wise."

Drayjon Pillar of Stars broke in with a surprising joviality, Poetry is my expertise Kimuray. Leave the art of words to me and keep to your own specialties. The other Pillars laughed at the playful taunt. Drayjon didn't have to make a joke. I assume he did it to ease the tension because he could tell I was anxious. The smell of the flowing water blended with a nearby patch of golden blossoms. I looked at my peers, some were wet, some were struggling with their tools, but none had caught anything. I realized my concern was not resolved. So, do I still need to catch a fish? I asked for clarification. 

Gryfeen Pillar of Sun offered an answer. No, I don't think that will be necessary. He aimed his handsome face at each of the other Pillars and the slightest clue of a question peaked out from behind his piercing eyes. Each of the other Pillars shared the same near imperceptible questioning look. I felt like I was witnessing them speak without words. So much was said as it was unsaid. Heedray broke the silence, Another time. The next try then. There was an element of disappointment in her voice. 

Is something wrong? I asked.

Kirown motioned for me to walk with her as the other Pillars walked toward their proteges. Her lavender eyes shined in the bright sun as she looked up to the clouds and said, We have tried this before and we will try again. You will understand. Or you will not. Growth or death. The choice must be yours.

I would never share it with the Pillars, or even my peers, but in the safety of these pages I am secure enough to admit I am frustrated. The vagueness of our lessons seems unnecessary. I wish the Pillars could tell us clearly what they want. I would do it happily. We all would. We couldn't answer their questions at the learning circle. Why do we live? What is the best way to shape something? How are the proteges meant to know this? We haven't studied these subjects yet. And to catch a fish? What was the point of that? We were asked to gather a resource and we each did it in our own way individually. Why was that not good enough? 

If only they could tell us what they wanted. Maybe that was the point. The Pillars That Hold up the Sky did not intend for us to answer these questions, but to struggle with them. And in that struggle, we find meaning. Perhaps the questions were as a test. A test I hope to someday pass.

Chyro The Primary

Cycle: Unknown. Presumably during the Age of the Divinities, circa 2500.

Chapter 3

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Do you have such a thing as God in your land? In whatever time or place you find yourself, whatever setting is yours, do gods exist? I have no way of knowing if you can even comprehend what I am asking. Any question asked without the expectation of a response is for the speaker's benefit. My voice has become an echo in a rhetorical tunnel. I am asking you about the gods, but really, I’m asking myself. 

I used to have faith. Drayjon’s Prophecy in particular used to mean something so different to me. As a newly emergent in my first few cycles learning about the Pillars That Hold up the Sky, I was filled with an almost tangible sensation of excitement. What did the prophecy mean? Why did the god of death write it? What was the audience? It represented a world of infinite wonder and discovery for me. Now though... I feel differently about it. I feel differently about many things. 

Isten As Is Memory, Archivist

Prophecy Of The Great Downfall, By Drayjon The Pillar That Holds Up The Sky

Celestial bodies spiral into the cave of holy sight. Beware the Great Downfall, so ends the fight.

Gifts of the past for the future. Help or hurt? The Breath of Ruination. The end you can not avert.

Opposing directions make rivers of tears. Innocence swallowed. The eater of all your fears.

Gray skin, black blood, tower of dead. Don't let these warnings go unread.

The return. The rebellion. The revelation. The stone and flesh. A transformation.

Celestial bodies spiral into the cave of holy sight. Beware the Great Downfall, so ends the fight.

Drayjon The Pillar That Holds Up The Sky, The Covenant.

Cycle: Unknown. Presumably during the Age of the Divinities, circa 2800.

Chapter 4

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This narrative is about a cave. Or maybe it's more about what comes out of it. I am in my own cavern of sorts now, writing this. My room is dark except for the blueish white illumination of a single hanging lamp. My stone walls are boxes of listening devices and stacks of books. The rows of documented information trace the length of the room until it ends at my desk. Food waste, crumpled papers, and writing utensils scatter the ground like jagged gravel. I bring in unconnected stories and change their disparate parts into a congruent whole. What leaves my cave will be the amalgamated tale of a whole planet. Greater in total than the sum of its components. The journey of Cimer The Primary along his crooked path to the Harken Cavern has the same effect. What arose from that cave was far more than what went in. It transformed. Reconfigured. 

Isten As Is Memory, Archivist

The Epic Of The Crooked Path By Cimer The Primary

I think too much. My mind goes in too many directions while my body holds still. I can not decide on the best course of action, so I take none. The others scold me for this. When building a meeting hall for one of the new settlements I became useless. The others became frustrated, they said I am undisciplined, or I can not focus, or that there is something wrong with my mind. They can not see what is going on inside of me. 

Recently a group of farmers asked me for assistance in irrigating their crops. I felt the dirt with my fingers and imagined the water soaking through it. Then I imagined the water mixing with it to become mud that then baked to hard clay in the sun. I smelled the wind and it was sweet. The breeze would carry the smell of water and fresh plants to the local animals who might come and ruin the farmers' hard work. I could see the land that was chosen for their field was at a very slight decline. During the rain too much water will flow down and flood the field. My mind goes down each path, and each branch from those paths. While I think, not moving, others are moved to action. One of the other founding proteges will take my place. But worst of all I will disappoint our mentors. They have not spoken about it, but I can see it in their faces, and feel it in my heart.

If not the farmer's field or a meeting hall, it is something else. While on an expedition to search out more Nimbus stone deposits, Hyd had to take command after I became overwhelmed. Teaching a group of newly emergent how to set traps, Chyro had to replace me. At the time I thought to myself, I am everywhere in my mind doing everything all at once. These situations happen frequently. Too frequently lately. 

It is now that I am needed most. The scourge fungus has been unstoppable. Homes destroyed. Walls crumbled. People disfigured or dead. Once the tiny white mushrooms are noticed it might already be too late. The mycelium turns anything living into black rot. Just a foul smelling paste with tiny bits mixed in of whatever it used to be. To remove even just one mushroom the size of a finger would leave a scooped out hole almost twice that size in whatever it took root in. Patches of the scourge fungus grow fast and so far, the only way to kill it is with fire. The head, the stalk, the mycelial network, all must be turned totally to ash.

My mentor made such a small thing of sending me away. My journey, my first sojourn into the wilderness, was such a casual topic to Kimuray. We walked along the river bank and Kimuray stroked the fluff of a tiny white bird nestled in her arm. It’s feathers the same shade of white as the fur of my jacket. 

Why me? I asked. Kimuray smiled broadly as if she found the question amusing. Her fangs never looked so sharp. Had they always been so long, so dangerous? Maybe I did not notice until that moment. 

You must be the one to go. You need this crooked path. The others need what you will return with. The bird seemed insignificant surrounded by Kimuray’s bulk. She knelt down and let the frail creature leap to the ground. "Ultimately, all roads are taken alone, whether you have company or not. You decide to take the steps. The bird took an insecure hop, ruffled its wings, and stumbled over its oversized webbed feet. Upon your return, you will be changed. This place and the people here will be changed also. There will be struggle and pain and growth. And all the joy that comes after."

There was much to consider and Kimuray seemed unconcerned. But what if I get lost? Or get attacked by a beast? What happens if I can not find the Harken Cavern, or the dirt is not there? How can you be so sure this kind of cave dust will stop the fungus? 

Kimuray closed her eyes and waved her large hands dismissively. Do not think of what if, think only on what is. We need the dirt found in the cavern. It will dissolve the scourge fungus. All will be solved and you will be needed to guide them afterward.

I wanted to ask more questions, talk more of the hypothetical problems, consider more unforeseen obstacles. It would have been pointless though. Kimuray was done with this issue. 

We watched the bird tentatively step into the slow moving water and float downstream without looking back. I left before the sunset.

Traveling at night did not bother me. I could see just as well with or without the sun. Cycles added up as I walked. I was surprisingly not lonely. I felt as though each plant was a friend, each creature was a comrade. I climbed jagged cliffs and swam through lakes. When I got tired, I slept in the branches of trees. When I was hungry, the land provided me food. I became comfortable. 

I grew accustomed to ignoring the signs of my surroundings. I should have noticed the swirl of grasp grass. Even new emergents can avoid the deceptively lush looking pits. The shade of green is darker, thicker and more curled at the tip. With one step I sunk in. I was hip deep and sinking slowly before I noticed the wooden staff. White with streaks of silver and perfectly smooth, it was barely within arm’s reach. The far end of it had a hooked turn, maybe the size of a hand. I used the staff to reach for the branches of a bush and pull myself out. I laid on my back clutching the staff tight to my chest. Thankful, but soon curious. How did I not see the staff? Had it been covered by the grasp grass? I knew Kimuray could not have supplied me with it at such a pivotal moment. Though maybe my mentor had. Maybe this staff was a gift. It could also have been a very convenient coincidence. I will never know.  

I came to a field of fireweed. It stretched for almost the entire horizon. The sun was close to setting, and I again felt paralyzed. I stood and considered my options. To go straight through would mean immense pain. To my left, I could barely make out the sound of flowing water. Was it flowing in my favor? I could not tell its direction or breadth. To my other side, I could smell the musk of a bane breath stomper. I knew enough to avoid those beasts. Would my new staff be enough protection from its rage? I could also backtrack, find another route, but that would take so much time. I thought I am everywhere, doing everything all at once. Meanwhile, I am just standing.  The sun had gone and the night cloaked the stillness of me.

In the moonlight, I saw the first blood hunter bat appear from its den. Just one more option to consider. One more excuse for inaction. Soon there were more. Tiny wings, lined with sharp bone along the edge. More surfaced one at a time from underground holes.  The flapping made concentrating hard, it was too distracting to think clearly. Then the first of them swooped and slashed. Such a small cut. A thin line of black beaded on my upper arm. Next, there was a high pitched squeak and several of them tried to land on to the cut. I swatted them away, but more began to make tiny slices in other places. More tried to latch on. I was flailing my arms now, but my feet were still rooted to the spot. This was a losing battle. Once their circular, jagged toothed mouths suctioned on, they lashed at the cuts with their spiked tongues, trying to dig in. I was everywhere. But also, I was not there. Like a cloud floating above myself, looking down at myself. Forward was pain. Back was failure. Here was death. I had no control. I was powerless against outside forces as well as those within. Tears began to frame the edge of my sight. Helpless. No assistance from friend, or god, or self. I went wild, swinging the staff in as many directions as I could. The swarm was not abating. 

Another swing of the staff, downward, hit a rock and dull short ring let out. The bats closest to the sound recoiled for just a moment. I hit the staff down on the stony ground again, this time harder. The sound was dull, but louder and it hummed a bit longer. More of the bats made a quick flutter away. Then, soon they were back to the swoops and slashes and the sucking. My solution was clear. I hit the staff as fast and as strong as I could against the rocky dirt floor many times. It began to thin out the swarm. I had room to see a fallen log close by. It was hollowed and big enough to fit most of me. I made a run for it and scurried under. I reached out and scooped up piles of dirt and scattered branches to bury what the log could not cover. The bats that were still stuck on were ripped off and crushed. In time the bats outside left. My wounds stopped bleeding. Do not think of what if, think only on what is. That is what Kimuray told me. Indecision at the fireweed field cost me. Harmed by my own hesitation. 

I reached Harken Cavern just after the sun rose. Branches of an unnamed tree braided through the rock at the mouth of the cave. Cracks, leaning boulders, rocky ground: this is what the opening to the cavern looked like and beyond was black. The dark soon lightened due to the luminescent moss painting the rock walls pale green. There were many smaller tunnels leading off the main cave. Kimuray did not mention this. Intentional maybe? A test? Kimuray told me the dust would shimmer and have a sweet smell. I sniffed the air. I picked up the smell of something sweet and followed it to its source. It was a dead creature. No world saving dirt was found, only small insects scurrying under my feet. 

I began to lose track of my path. I could not find my way back to the main cave. Tunnels forked and dead ended and turned and I became lost. I stopped and stood. Frozen, gripping my staff tight in both hands, I closed my eyes. I could take the path with the brightest moss. I could go down the tunnel