“zaveid, wait up!” despite her best efforts to keep up with the wind seraph, lailah still fell behind as she tried to burn away the cobwebs that seemed to fill the tintagel ruins, so she wouldn’t walk into them.
she’s worried about him, deeply. from the fight at the sanctuary to the way he made a beeline for the tintagel ruins after, zaveid’s been acting like a man possessed. he’s still hurt badly, and she wishes he’d just sit still and let her heal him, if only a little bit.
seeing melchior’s face lit a fire in his chest that hasn’t burned in a long, long time, and zaveid knows, oh he knows, that if that man has gotten off his lazy ass to make history repeat, then those ruins have to go.
they can never be used again.
it took them a long time to even get into the ruins, having long since fallen into disrepair - the last occupants were the scattered bones, so long ago. but once they’re in, it takes him little time to rip through, he does pause, at the mural, and he can see the layers of dust that are less built up in the shapes of hands of two excited boys seeing the world for the first time, and for a moment, there’s a pang of guilt.
he can come back to this. first, he needs to find what he’s looking for.
and find it he does, the switch to the door tucked away in a corner, leading to longer-untouched corridors and hallways; the purple miasma of malevolence hangs heavy, with lingering emotions of a woman long long gone and her angry lover. long rotted corpses of cultists lie as clothed skeletons as he finally stops in the center of the chamber, the walls and floor scorched and stained with blood, both human and malak.
the stone echoes as he falls to his knees with a thud, staring up at the devices on the walls, hanging from the ceiling. all stained black-brown with old blood and gore.
he doesn’t really realize lailah is there.
yousharknotpass
kaledo-art
2087
annaxmalina
