The sun began to slip past the western horizon, letting the long shadows of the trees swallow the cold stone gates of Stormberg. Before stepping further into the gloom of the ruins, Eins ensured everything was secure. He led their brown horse beneath a sprawling oak tree, where the grass grew thick and green.
With practiced care, Eins tied the horse's reins and took a small bucket from his saddlebag. He filled it with clean water and placed it right beside a small pile of hay he had prepared.
"Eat your fill, friend. We might be inside for a while," Eins murmured, patting the horse's neck. He always treated animals with gentleness; to him, every living thing was a subject of study deserving of respect.
Lysara stood behind him, watching his every move with an unreadable gaze. "You are too kind to beasts, Eins. In my time, horses were merely tools of transport to be replaced at a moment's notice."
Eins turned and gave a faint smile. "Perhaps. But without him, our feet would have been blistered before we even arrived. Respecting the small things is the key to respecting the great, Lysara."
After ensuring the supplies in his oversized bag were safe, the two finally stepped inside. As they crossed the threshold of the massive stone doors, the air turned frigid and smelled of ancient dust. Eins immediately ignited the light crystal hanging around his neck, illuminating a corridor covered in intricate carvings on every inch of its walls.
"Incredible..." Eins whispered, his eyes sparkling behind his glasses. He quickly pulled out his notebook and pen. "Look at these carvings, Lysara! The wing patterns... this is an architectural style lost to the history books."
Lysara walked slowly beside him, her sharp-clawed fingers occasionally brushing the rough stone surface. "This is a dragon temple. Long ago, the ancestors of the Elves and Gnomes often came here. They shared a belief that the six-winged ancient dragon was the manifestation of a god who could grant any wish."
Eins recorded every word that fell from Lysara's lips. "So the dragons really existed?"
Lysara snorted softly, a hint of skepticism in her voice. "To those worshippers, dragons were everything. But to my kind, the Ancient Beastfolk, all these rituals felt... futile. The fact is, the dragon they worshipped never showed itself. Instead, it was us, the Guardians, who often stepped in to bless their lands or drive away plagues in the name of 'miracles.' Humans prefer to worship a silent statue rather than thank the one who bled to protect them."
Eins faltered, his hand pausing mid-sentence. He looked at Lysara, who appeared somber. "So, all this time you were the 'hands' of god for them, yet they chose to worship a fantasy?"
"Such is history—written by the winners and those who fear reality, Eins," Lysara replied flatly.
They continued walking until they reached a vast prayer hall. In the center of the room stood a giant, menacing dragon statue. It featured four sharp horns protruding from its head and wings spread wide as if to embrace the entire chamber.
Eins felt his legs go weak at the sheer majesty of it. He almost ran forward to touch the black stone material that shimmered under his crystal light.
"Wait," Lysara's powerful hand suddenly gripped Eins's shoulder, holding him in place.
"What is it? I just want to see the material, Lysara. It might be star-stone—"
Without answering, Lysara picked up a fist-sized rock from the cracked floor. With lethal accuracy, she hurled the rock straight at the dragon statue's chest.
Ting!
The moment the rock struck the surface, an ancient mechanism hidden for a thousand years suddenly roared to life. The statue's eyes glowed a malevolent red, and from the dragon's gaping maw, a massive torrent of fire erupted with a deafening thunder.
WUUUUUUSSSHHHH!
The air in the room instantly turned searing hot. Eins collapsed to the floor, his face deathly pale. Had he taken two more steps forward, he would have been turned to ash.
The fire ceased after a few seconds, leaving behind thin wisps of sulfurous smoke.
"That is not mere decoration," Lysara said as she helped Eins to his feet. "That statue is called the 'Judgment of Scales.' Anyone who touches it without the proper ritual is deemed a sinner and burned alive instantly. The Gnome priests of old were very fond of setting traps like this."
Eins swallowed hard, looking at Lysara with a sense of admiration that was multiplying. "You... you just saved my life again. Your knowledge is far more valuable than any book I've ever read."
Lysara simply stared at him flatly, but there was a small glint in her eyes that showed she enjoyed the praise. "That is why I am here, Foolish Researcher."
As the day grew darker and their energy waned, Eins decided to camp in a corner of the prayer hall, far out of reach of the dragon statue. He gathered some dry wood that had blown in and lit a small campfire.
Eins took out his small pot, poured water from his skin, and began chopping vegetables and the dried beef he had brought. Soon, the savory aroma of a brown stock soup filled the cold room.
"Eat this, it will warm your body," Eins said, handing a wooden bowl of hot soup to Lysara.
They sat side by side in front of the campfire. The orange light danced across their faces. Lysara sipped the soup slowly, her eyes closed as she savored a taste her senses had long been denied. When she finished, she let out a long breath and rested her head on Eins's shoulder.
Eins went stiff for a moment, but then he relaxed his body, letting Lysara be comfortable.
"Eins..." Lysara whispered softly. "I feel... I am starting to become my old self again. When I eat, when I feel warmth, when I watch you taking notes so seriously... I feel alive. Thank you."
Eins smiled, staring at the crackling fire. "I'm glad, Lysara. Helping you find your identity again is the best 'discovery' of my career as a researcher."
The atmosphere felt harmonious and peaceful. However, amidst the warmth, Lysara's long ears suddenly twitched. She didn't move, but her gray eyes sharpened, staring into the darkness in the corners of the ruins where the firelight could not reach.
There was something there. Something very powerful, very still, and it was watching them with an intent that was difficult to read. Something that had been waiting inside these ruins long before they arrived.
Eins, still smiling, did not realize that death might be lurking behind the ancient pillars of Stormberg.
To be continued...