The imnse suns looming in the skies experienced a precipitous fall, ushering in an impenetrable darkness that lent the Ruins of the Northern Sands a terrible eeriness. Despite the strangeness, Kieran bizarrely enough felt at ease.
Perhaps it has sothing to do with the kindred concept of this place - destruction and ruin. As it stood, both of said concepts had brushed his soul.
Nevertheless, his comfort was not a luxury shared with the others. They stepped gingerly and shot furtive glances at the surrounding broken sand structures, betraying their uneasiness.
"Dude! There's just no way, man. Why is it so damned dark all of a sudden?" Nean muttered, inching closer to the others.
"I don't know," Bastion comnted. "But it's damned scary, I tell you that. I don't do very well with the dark."
"Or with bridges, apparently," Altair added, suddenly appearing from so unknown patch of darkness. His appearance was soundless and gave everyone a start, even Kieran, who had his perception spread to detect Altair's expected return.
However, so strange aspect of Altair's abilities shrouded him from ordinary and mystical detection. Perhaps that shroud could be penetrated, but Kieran wasn't confident he could pull that off with his current capabilities.
What if he could hone his vision and perception, though?
Now that he was an Adept, there was a strange, manipulable characteristic to his senses. It was like delving into the settings of a device before proceeding to tweak it to your benefit. This wasn't knowledge he gained after nurous attempts, but instead inherent knowledge that ca with the Advancing, like it was leaving crumbs for him to follow.
Kieran shrugged.
The information was important, but he wasn't keen on taking a risk with his sight. In the Trial, he learned that using his eyes to "see" could cost him if he was too overzealous and greedy. Truthseeking was best utilized in moderation or at a pace that fit the seeker's capabilities.
"What's the verdict?" Kieran asked.
Altair's expression took on a grim shade, and the tone of its voice matched his dark visage.
"Whatever you expected... think that it's ten tis worse. I would suggest that you be extrely cautious with where you step. You will plunge into the unknown depths beneath the sand if you're not careful."
Kieran found that piece of information strange. That quality was supposedly unique to the Crumbling Sand, and it happened because the Sand Worms and their larvae corroded the layer beneath the ground.
Was that also true for the Northern Sands?
The corner of Kieran's lips twitched as if subtly irritated. And he was. His eyes failing to detect inconsistencies in the sand was vexing.
"Is the ground unstable?"
"Unstable? No. That's not why I advise careful movent." Altair shook his head and then pointed down. "The sand is quite compact, maybe even stronger than most cent, but the problem is, while I walked through the Night, I saw hints of runes. Large, ominous runes that gave pause. The sand inside those runes seed like... caked-up, dried blood, which encases this entire place."
Bastion gulped nervously.
"Get the fuck out of here, now!"
Beneath their feet, the sand was discolored, and at first, that change in the color could be attributed to the coming darkness, but with Altair's unsettling revelation coupled with the Zenith Frequency's warning, Kieran realized the color of the sand should be alarming.
"Can you translate runes? Do you know what they said?"
Altair unfortunately did not have an answer to give, opting to shake his head with a deep grimace.
"No, but more important than the runes... is the number of golems down there! I couldn't begin to give you a rough estimate, honestly."
"That's not very much a concern. We'll see it when we get down there," Kieran said. Kieran saw no reason to recoil from a welco challenge if his instinct wasn't screaming at him or alerting him of unbeatable odds.
Afterward, Kieran and the others hastened their approach, their gaits each eating up massive distances deed safe. Though swift, Kieran still exercised caution.
It wasn't long before Kieran stood at a set of giant, worn steps descending beneath huge, shattered blocks of sand. The nearby remnants suggested that a large structure had once sat here, but it fell, exposing the secrets beneath it.
If he were correct...
"This should be the exact middle of the entire Northern Sands," Kieran said.
He dropped to a knee and inspected the dark before lifting a hand and focusing. First, a dense orb of fresh, ominous blood converged above his palm until it was roughly the size of his fist when bald.
Then, Kieran rembered what he had learned during the Testant of Dying Blood. Red lightning crackled across the orb, and it happened increasingly frequently. Then, the crackles combusted, erupting into a pure crimson fla.
The surroundings were painted in red light as Kieran moved his hand forward, illuminating a section of the dark staircase.
"So, I know we were supposed to find a place to house the carriages, but..." Ezra stared at the space ahead from a few paces behind Kieran. "There's no way the carriages are fitting down that. They can, but isn't it insane to push them down those steps?"
Many people agreed, as did Kieran. Bringing the carriages down into the unknown wasn't ideal. Luckily, the upper layer didn't seem infested with any monsters or other threats. The bulk of whatever protected, terrorized, or ruined the Northern Sands was underground. "Pick whoever you can trust and have them guard the carriages," Kieran suggested.
Alexandria stared down her team with a harsh gaze. Then, she selected a group of five to guard the carriages in a nearby structure large enough to house them comfortably and offer
so security.
Many of them obviously weren't happy; one even started to gripe.
"Why must we miss out on the battle experience while you all go down to canvas the area and likely get into so chaos?"
"Because that is what I instructed you to do," Alexandria said. She gave them all a stern look, and soon enough, all of their bullish confidence vanished.
Bastion gave an impressed whistle, shaking his head out of admiration and adoration.
anwhile, Kieran started his descent down the steps.
All the while, he was also thinking about several things.
'Altair said golems? Hopefully, they're not the kind of golems I'm thinking about. There's no way they'd be modeled after the Guardian of the Northern Sands, right?'
Kieran felt at least a part of the Guardian of the Northern Sands was still alive because Facina had beco a contractor. While that didn't promise it was still of this world, at least its spirit maintained a connection to Xenith, allowing descendants of the Desertborn to contract and
wield a portion of its power.
However, what was the actual purpose of the Guardian of the Northern Sands? It failed to prevent the fall of this thriving civilization, and sadly, Kieran couldn't see more about its
history.
He only caught glimpses of the civilization thriving and making skillful use of sand to assist in their daily lives.
Despite the excellence he witnessed in the visions, the people and the empire in the Northern
Sands faced demise.
Whether it ca from natural causes or the outco of a cataclysmic battle was unknown to
Kieran, but maybe that played into why Dusvim was tasked with destabilizing Aeredale's
economy.
There seed to be a feud between Aeredale and other places.
And had this been the result of petty transgressions, Kieran would have taken that assumption at face value, but Bundal's Log hinted at an unseen conspirator monitoring his progress and urging him to hasten his experints.
Carrying the ball of crimson fla, Kieran and the others entered the Ruins of the Northern Sands, descending lower and lower until there was nothing but darkness in front and behind
them.
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