Day 7 @lorevember - "Ruins
Caelan arrives at the "crystal cathedral"
Echoes of the forgotten war Caelan masterlist
It wasn’t far from the Ice Fields to the Ice Cathedral—though, of course, that was a human name. Whatever the elves had once called this place had been lost to time, like so many other pieces of their vanished history.
By the time they arrived, the sun had begun its slow descent, casting the landscape in hues of gold and amber. It was perfect timing, really. The dying light caught on the ruins, making them shimmer as if they were carved from pure crystal.
Though many sections of the structure had collapsed, swallowed by centuries of frost and ice, enough of it remained to hint at its former grandeur. The ruins stretched upward as though still reaching for the heavens. Walls, arches, and fragmented spires jutting out of the snow, their surfaces glinting with a brilliance that seemed almost otherworldly.
Caelan stopped a few paces ahead of the mercenary, his breath catching as he took it all in. The sight of the Cathedral, even in its ruined state, stirred something deep within him—a sense of awe, of sorrow, and of yearning. He could almost imagine what it must have looked like when it was whole, its halls alive with light and laughter, its magic untamed and vibrant. Now, all that remained was silence, save for the faint howl of the wind through the broken arches.
“'hem elves didn't do subtle stuff they?" the mercenary muttered, kicking a chunk of ice with his boot.
Caelan shot the mercenary a glance, a flicker of irritation crossing his face. “Subtlety isn’t the same as beauty,” he said, his voice softer than usual as if he didn’t want to disturb the air of reverence that seemed to cling to the ruins. “This place wasn’t meant to be hidden. It was meant to be… alive. To inspire.”
The mercenary snorted, folding his arms, "looks like showing off to me. Didn't do 'hem any good either did it? They still lost the war." He doesn't cast his gaze over the ruins, "this what 'hem ice ghosts were protecting then?"
Caelan’s eyes narrowed at the mercenary’s dismissive tone, but he took a slow breath, forcing himself to maintain his composure. "It depends which of the legends you believe… But personally I don't think it was as simple as 'protecting a building'. To them, it was more than that. This place was a living, breathing part of their culture, their soul.”
The mercenary’s eyes flicked across the ruins, his posture still rigid with indifference. “So, what, this place was like their temple or something?”
Caelan’s gaze lingered on the ruins as he spoke, his fingers gently tracing one of the symbols carved into the stone. “The legends tell us this place was more than just a temple,” he said quietly. “It was a gathering place, a focal point of sorts. For the elves, magic wasn’t like it is for us. Every elf had a natural affinity with one of the elements, a subtle power that was as much a part of them as their breath. Their sorcerers, much like our mages, could channel that power into spells, but even those who weren’t sorcerers could still wield magic in small, quiet ways," he paused, "the conscripts still can… but other than those used in the arenas most of them have their affinity suppressed by the collars."
The mercenary grunted, stepping up beside him and giving the carvings a half-hearted glance. "And now it’s just a bunch of old ice and stone."
Caelan nodded slowly, his eyes still fixed on the intricate carvings that adorned the ruins. He could feel the weight of history pressing down on him, the echoes of a time long past reverberating through the stone, even if the mercenary failed to notice it.
"Yes," Caelan said softly, "It is just ice and stone now."
"So… what exactly you looking for?" the mercenary stepped back, his gazed sweeping over the horizon as if checking they really were alone.
Caelan hesitated for a moment, his fingers lingering on the weathered stone, the chill from the ruins creeping into his bones. The question, simple as it was, seemed to cut through the thick silence of the place, pulling him back from the reverie he had fallen into. What was he looking for?
He wasn’t entirely sure himself.
“I’m not looking for something specific,” he said, his voice quiet, almost to himself. “Not in the way you might think. It’s more about… understanding.”
The mercenary gave a half-hearted shrug, clearly uninterested in the philosophical side of Caelan's quest. "Understanding, huh? Sounds like a waste of time. But I guess it’s your coin to spend."
Caelan didn’t respond right away, his gaze drifting over the remnants of the Ice Cathedral. “Sometimes understanding is the only thing we have left,” Caelan said, almost to himself.
