Carved along the walls, just like the crevice outside were arcane runes the likes of which Amaro had not seen before. They had to be thousands of years old lying at the bottom of this cave. Depicted in a crude painting along the dome-like walls of the cave were the shapes of draconic creatures and tailed humanoids Amaro could only assume represented xiozians.

But a few were missing their tail.

“I don’t think anyone’s been here for a long time,” Kaara said.

“It looks like the dragons are fighting them.” Amaro noted.

“I wonder if we didn’t always get along like we do now?”

Amaro laughed dryly, “Well, it wasn’t long ago that xiozians were raised like cattle by dragons. Only a thousand years ago if you can believe it.”

“Really? How do you know that?”

“Atriux Xirxus is my ancestor. The story of how he liberated the xiozians from draconic farms has been drilled into my head since birth. But this… This feels like it would predate any of that.”

“Well, what happened before Atriux?”

“There’s not really a record of it as far as I know. I assume we were just cattle, but maybe it wasn’t always like that? Maybe we were free before the dragons domesticated us and before Atriux liberated everyone.”

“I dunno if dragons would truly be that cruel to us. I’m sure there was a reason they raised us.”

“Other than to eat us, you mean?”

“I wonder if they were trying to protect us in some way, but since dragons live so long they kept us with them for too long and we all just got sick of it.”

“But protect us from what? Malaki?”

“Well maybe if we find a dragon old enough we could ask them.”

Amaro laughed dryly, “Yeah. I wonder what these people were like. It’s… strange to see this. I always assumed civilization started with Atriux, but this place makes me feel like there’s a lot more to our past that wasn’t written down.”

“I can feel a draft coming from that way” Kaara pointed down a dark tunnel, “I bet there’s something more down that way.”

“You sure about that? How do you know?”

“I don’t know, I just have a feeling.”

“I suppose your instincts haven’t failed us yet.”

The two of them cautiously made their way down the dark tunnel. Their torch’s light seemed to be getting dimmer.

“Is it running out of fuel?” Amaro asked.

“It shouldn’t be. They’re soaked in Katuul fat which should burn for a couple hours at least. We’ve only been down here for about twenty minutes.”

And yet the light was dimming just the same. Amaro could feel something cold brushing at his neck again. He felt like something was watching them now.

“Should we turn back?”

“We’ve come this far right? No point in turning back now.”

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“Then for my sake would you hold my hand?”

Kaara took it, “It’s alright to be scared. Fear is the first step towards courage.”

“I…suppose you’re right.”

Amaro felt like such a child in front of Kaara. How had he ever thought he was more mature than her?

Amaro saw a skitter of movement from the corner of his eye and whipped the torch around. A small eyeless creatures slinked into a hole in the ground.

“What the hell was that?”

“Looked like a salamander.”

“A salamander without eyes?”

“You think it needs its eyes down here? I’ve seen ‘em before. They’re real wriggly when you catch them.”

Amaro breathed a sigh of relief, “Right, I suppose eyes are sort of useless when there’s no light to see anything.

Kaara knelt down next to him, "What's this? Torch please."

Amaro hovered the torch over her head, “What do you see?”

She dug through some rubble, tossing hand-sized stones off to the side to reveal a deep hole. She reached down to her shoulder into it, only to pull out and try with her tail. “Not long enough. See if you can reach the bottom of it.” She said, taking the torch from him.

“What if something bites me?”

“You’ll grow it back!”

Amaro clicked his tongue, “Fine.” He reached his arm in, and felt around. There was a cold sliminess to the rock. He recalled how clay felt when it was wet, but his brain went into thousands of less logical possibilities. One of which was that this was some sort of cave mimic ready to chomp his arm off at the shoulder.

He swallowed, pulling his arm out and trying with his tail instead. He had to sit down in a puddle to reach all the way down.

At least if I piss myself, I can tell them it’s just water…

His tail brushed up against something at the bottom. It wasn’t rock. It felt like… a leather tube?

He pulled it out, examining it. It was a pale colored leather scroll case. Amaro shuddered to think what sort of skin it might be made from.

“What’s inside?” Kaara asked, leaning over his shoulder.

Amaro unwrapped the twine holding it together. It was in very good condition. So much so that he began to doubt they were the first ones down here in less than a hundred years now.

There was a roll of parchment inside. He unraveled it, revealing a series of symbols which crawled along the page like insects, slowly forming into words that he could actually read.

“Aw, a blank scroll huh?” Kaara said.

Amaro felt a chill on his spine, “What do you mean? There’s clearly words.”

Kaara laughed, “Yeah, it’s not that dark.”

“No, I’m serious. You can’t see them?”

Kaara shook her head, “Are you alright? It’s clearly blank.”

“Don’t screw with me, are you joking?” Amaro looked at the page, “I can read it, I think.”

“What’s it say then?”

Amaro took the scroll and read it aloud, “For when destruction and creation are birthed from nothing, and creation marks a husk to fill, this scroll will tell its tale.

For when destruction meets creation and seeks to return to nothing this scroll will fail.

In the time after the first marked, ten of ten cycles thereafter.

The chains of creation will wither, and destruction will be free once again.

For when the descendants of the first are created to destroy, and the destroyed are nothing, creation finds its eternal jail.

A cycle of cycles, never ceasing, never beginning. Unless you are forgotten?"

Upon reading the last word, Amaro’s vision fractured, his heart thumping in his ears, “What the-” He winced in pain. His head felt like it was going to split open.

Kaara caught him as his knees buckled, “What’s wrong? What’s happening?!”

“I don’t-” Amaro leaned forward as the pain intensified, “Some sort of headache.”

Hundreds went forward, only nine came out. Unfortunate, but their blood is not wasted, it is carried in the nine.

“Who… said that?” Amaro fell to his hands and knees his vision tunneling.

“Said what? Are you alright?” Kaara asked.

"We need to get out of here-" Amaro couldn’t see. Had the torch gone out?

A new voice chimed in, a baritone so sweet it was sickening. Its words were a pleasant song that crawled in through the ear and festered in the brain.

They lied. There was a tenth.