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The Third Mural: The Descent and Betrayal

The Third Mural: The Descent and Betrayal:

As they read higher on the wall, the murals became more abstract and chaotic. The once harmonious relationship between gods and people began to fracture. The sun, depicted in earlier murals as a benevolent force, now appeared more aloof, its image distorted and twisted. In one particularly jarring panel, the sun was shown weeping, its tears falling from the heavens like burning rain, scorching the land below.

At the same time, the figures of the Thalassain rulers began to fade—their once powerful forms diluted and fractured, their faces twisted in pain. Around the sun, the sea god rose in fury, its form swelling like an immense serpent from the depths of the ocean. The celestial moon goddess, once serene, was now depicted as a dark shadow, her pale face grim and contorted.

At the heart of this chaotic section, a striking image stood out—a massive, blackened stone heart, shattered into nine pieces, its fragments scattered across the scene. The murals seemed to depict the moment of betrayal: the gods' retreat, their withdrawal from the people of Thalassa, and the sacrificial heart that had been removed from the figure, now cast into the shadows of the chamber. The people of Thalassa, once rulers of a great kingdom, were now depicted as hollow shells, their eyes wide with terror and confusion, grasping at the emptiness left by their lost gods.

There was a palpable sense of loss in these murals—the gods had abandoned the kingdom, leaving behind a cursed and broken land. The people had given too much, and in return, they had been forsaken.

Eamon’s gaze swept over the chaotic murals before them, his eyes widening with disbelief. "This... this is nothing like what we saw before," he murmured, taking a step back. "The sun, the gods—they look... twisted."

Kael’s voice was tight, his discomfort evident. "It’s like they’ve turned against the people. Look at the sun—it’s crying. Those tears... they’re burning everything below." He clenched his fists at his sides, his heart heavy with a growing sense of dread. "What happened to the relationship between the gods and the Thalassains?"

Elowen’s expression darkened as she traced the images with a steady hand, her voice grim. "This... this was where it all fell apart. The gods, once benevolent and powerful, had become distant and wrathful. The sun, once the symbol of life and creation, was now weeping, its tears like fire. It’s a sign of betrayal—something went terribly wrong. The gods withdrew their favor, and the people were left to suffer the consequences. It’s as if the gods had simply given up on them."

Balthazar’s eyes narrowed, his jaw tense as he examined the figures. "And these rulers... they look so different now. Their faces are twisted, their forms fading. What happened to them?"

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Elowen’s voice softened, as though she could feel the weight of their suffering. "The rulers of Thalassa were no longer divine. They were still clinging to their power, but the connection they once had with the gods was unraveling. As the sun turned against them, they were left powerless—unable to hold onto what they once were. Their faces were no longer clear, filled with pain and confusion. The gods had withdrawn, and they were left with nothing." Her words hung in the air, heavy with the loss that echoed through the room.

Eamon gestured toward the sea god and the moon goddess, his face troubled as he studied their forms. "And these gods—look at the sea god. It’s massive, almost monstrous now. And the moon goddess... she’s not even the same. She’s a shadow of herself."

Elowen nodded slowly, her eyes darkening as she took in the destruction that had consumed the gods. "The sea god, once a symbol of calm and fluidity, had become an angry, monstrous force—rising up in fury, like a serpent. The moon goddess, once serene, was now a twisted, dark figure. Their power had been corrupted, their forms shattered by the betrayal. This mural shows the breaking point—the gods turned on the people of Thalassa, and in return, the people lost their connection to everything that had once given them strength."

Kael’s brow furrowed as his eyes landed on the broken heart depicted in the center of the mural. "The heart... the blackened stone heart. It’s shattered into pieces. Does that mean something? What happened to it? I wondered whose heart this was."

Elowen’s voice trembled slightly as she focused on the shattered heart, her expression pained. "That heart... it was once the core of the sun god. The very source of the power that connected the gods to the people. But now, it’s broken—shattered into nine pieces and scattered. It’s a symbol of betrayal. The gods took their power back, tearing apart the heart, and with it, the connection to the kingdom. The people of Thalassa were left hollow, empty, without their gods. They could grasp at nothing they could ever reclaim."

Balthazar’s expression hardened, a deep frustration settling in. "So, the gods abandoned them. They were left with nothing... but emptiness. And terror."

Elowen’s voice was heavy with sadness, as if the weight of the kingdom’s fate lay on her shoulders. "Exactly. The people gave too much. When the gods no longer had anything left to take, they abandoned them completely. The Thalassan Kingdom, once great and powerful, was left in ruins. The people were hollow—lost. Their eyes were filled with fear and confusion. They had sacrificed everything, and in return... they were forsaken. This mural tells the story of that moment—the moment the gods turned their backs on the people who had once worshipped them."

Eamon’s gaze shifted to the scattered pieces of the heart, his voice somber. "And now... it’s like the entire kingdom was doomed. The gods are gone, and the land..." He trailed off, the silence between them thick with the truth of his words. "It’s cursed."

Elowen sighed deeply, her gaze lingering on the shattered mural before them. "It was the end of an era. The gods' withdrawal sealed their fate. The kingdom was broken. And it was only a matter of time before the darkness consumed them completely. And now, this place... it’s nothing more than a grave for their lost civilization." Her voice was barely a whisper, yet the sadness in it resonated deep within the hearts of all who heard it.

Beneath this mournful scene, another rhyme was etched into the stone:

_"From heavens once bright, the gods turned away,

Their tears fell like fire, and night swallowed day.

In the wake of their loss, the golems did sway,

Their hollowed-out chests, where no hearts would lay."_

The words seemed to linger, thick with the weight of grief and regret, as if the very chamber itself mourned the collapse of the Thalassain civilization.