"What just happened...?" Yasenka's question was very quiet. She seemed a little scared.

I clenched my fingers around the stone hanging from my neck. "He understood Canidralth's words," I tried not to sound angry, but it didn't quite work. "He knows something and doesn't want to tell us."

"But... why?"

"Sorry, you're asking the wrong person..."

There suddenly was the sound of footsteps coming from the direction of the hallway, and a moment later archpriest Lythar appeared in the dining room door.

"Good morning," he greeted us, seeming mildly surprised at seeing us there. "You've awoken quite early... who prepared breakfast for you?"

I glanced at the table, so neatly set by Canidralth. "It... it was Casais," I stammered out.

"Ah, yes, he's an early bird indeed..." the priest smiled, thankfully not suspecting anything. "And where would venerable Siaril be? Is he asleep still?"

"No, he... left for a moment," it was Yasenka's turn to stutter. "He wanted to take a walk, but said he'll be back soon."

"In the meantime..." I finally sat down again, "could you please tell us how many of Ioreth's citizen managed to survive the tragedy and come here?"

The archpriest took a seat on Siaril's chair. "They weren't many. Around thirty people, mainly women and only a few children. They said that the capital was attacked by some monsters... The inhabitants tried to defend the city, they were determined, strong and courageous... but not as strong as those who invaded them..."

"I don't think there are many who can face Sharish's hybrids..."

"Hybrids?" the priest seemed surprised. "I always thought it was impossible to create them, that the books telling about it were simple legends."

"What Sharish is doing was indeed long considered impossible. And I worry that he is no longer just a normal mage. His abilities start to surpass imagination..."

The dark, wise eyes of the archpriest turned to Yasenka. "The Sharish we're talking about... is it Sharish Caydranth?"

"Yes... you know about him?"

"He visited Tacritia once. He told me about his ancestors, and that he wishes to make their mistakes right again. To do that, he claimed to require access to what is concealed in the crypts of the temple... but I couldn't grant him entrance."

"Why not?"

"Only the Disciples of the Last Dragons can be allowed in. Even I didn't ever see what's down there. My predecessor told me that there are powerful spells guarding the underground and I heard that there were a few people crazy enough to make themselves out to be Disciples, trying to seek a treasure they believed lie hidden there. Some of them were allowed to enter the crypts when they ignored our warnings... none of them returned."

I winced a little. Greed really didn't know any bounds in some individuals...

"Sharish didn't pretend to be someone he's not, and he also didn't insist on entering once I explained that to him," continued Lythar. "But he was visibly displeased by the refusal. And I think I heard him muttering something about 'managing even without it'..."

"Well, now you know what he meant..."

"Who would have thought he'd choose such a bloody path..." the archpriest shook his head gently, before giving us a sad smile. "At least in your case I'm certain that I can let you enter without worry."

"Let's not waste any more time then," we suddenly heard Siaril's voice.

I turned my head slightly. He was standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame, looking like nothing at all happened. His expression was calm and gentle as always, his eyes not showing the slightest shadow of the anger which he left with a few minutes ago. As if he took it outside and abandoned it in the street somewhere.

Both me and Yasenka looked at him for a long moment, searching for answers in his face, but we didn't find any and all he did was smile reassuringly. Upon seeing that, I let out an inaudible sigh of relief. But I didn't forget the lie.

"Come along then," said Lythar, getting up again.

As he led us through the now bright hallways of the temple, we passed a small group of younger priests, heading for the dining room. Casais wasn't among them yet... Eventually, our host came to a stop in front of one of the doors somewhere deeper in the house of god. There were remnants of some old inscriptions engraved on their austere portal. The archpriest took a small, silver key out of the folds of his robe and opened them. We saw narrow, spiraling stairs leading down, into darkness.

"Be careful, the stairs are quite smooth, it's easy to hurt oneself," he warned us, before descending first.

We followed him carefully, wiping off dust from the walls as we supported ourselves to not lose balance. There was a pleasant chill coming from below, the walls cold, but dry. The sound of our steps carried to the depths of the crypts and they answered with an echo as silent and clear as the shy voice of a bird in morning mist.

The stairs didn't lead far. I subconsciously counted them in my mind and when my thoughts said 'twenty four', we reached an empty chamber with a fairly high ceiling. There were only a few torches in the holders on the walls, which the archpriest started lighting. The orange glow revealed a massive, double door carved meticulously out of some dark wood right opposite the stairs. The edges were strengthened with metal, fancifully formed into decorative ornaments.

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Our host produced another key from his robes, this time black and bigger, and unlocked the door. The heavy wings opened almost on their own, even and smooth, like they were taking a deep breath. Just their creak echoed throughout the dungeon like some acrid spell. Beyond the door was only darkness.

"You should find a chamber somewhere at the end of this corridor," said Lythar, looking into the passageway, the snippet of which we saw only a few meters past the threshold. "I will wait for you here."

Siaril entered straight away, without a word. I caught Yasenka's glance. There was still some anxiety in her eyes, so I smiled reassuringly, even though I myself wasn't sure what to think of our friend's behavior yet. I just followed him, and she finally did the same.

The light from the torches in the antechamber died out really quickly, the rest of the crypts drowned in deep darkness. I didn't think much and did the first thing that came to my mind - I lit a tiny fire in the palm of my hand. Siaril and Yasenka did the same in almost exactly the same moment. We smiled to each other and continued down the passage.

In the subtle light of our flames, the shadows seemed more black than they should be, the marks of chisels and pickaxes that shaped the passage who knows how long ago gaining some ghostly incisiveness. The misty glow progressively drew out new curves, niches decorated with draperies of shadows, ornamental columns supporting the ceiling... We felt a delicate breeze every now and then, probably coming from some openings connecting the crypts with the outside, but the presence of which we could only presume among the blackness. And maybe it was just my mind playing tricks on me, aware of the purpose of this place's creation, but I could swear that I heard the cadenced, quiet hum of ancient magic all around us.

"I thought the passage would be shorter..." I finally said, just to say something. The silence made the surroundings seem even gloomier. "The temple is not that big..."

"No one said that the crypts have to be restrained by the temple's walls," Yasenka remarked soberly.

"Well, yeah..."

We were just passing another niche when she suddenly squealed, in a way a bit untypical for her, but fitting a real woman.

"What is it?" Siaril rushed to her side to disperse more of the darkness with his flame, his other hand on the hilt of his sword. He backed away again equally quickly.

Lying there in an unnatural position was humanoid skeleton, clothed in scraps of charred garments. It was stuck in an old, rusted armor, cracked on the side, like a cocoon that a butterfly soared up from. The weird thing was that every bone was white as snow, without a single trace of flesh. It looked almost unreal...

"That must be one of the daredevils Lythar told us about."

"Do we really have to find so many dead on our path...?" asked Yasenka bitterly.

"I have a feeling that the farther we go, the more inevitable it will become..." Siaril let go of his sword and looked in the direction in which we were heading. "Come on, I feel like it's not far now."

We followed without a moment of hesitation.

We didn't manage to make more than three steps though, when Siaril suddenly stopped in his tracks again, making me bump right into his back.

"What is it?" I asked, gripping his sleeve to regain my balance.

"Shhh," was his only answer. He squinted a bit, as if listening out for something.

I fell silent, almost holding my breath. And then I heard it...

From somewhere deep in the dungeon came a quiet sound resembling the soft ringing of tiny bells... Yasenka reflexively reached out to her sirath to hush it. But the sound was still there, and it was a little different from the one her stones made, and to which we were so used by now that we hardly paid attention to it. It was... like crystals or tiny metal plates meeting each other over and over. They formed an almost regular rhythm, even seemed to take the shape of some mysterious melody that called us, wanting to offer help or luring us to our deaths...

"What is that...?" I whispered.

"No idea..." Yasenka kept looking around, searching for the source of the fascinating sound. "But somehow... I don't feel like it's anything bad."

"Weird stuff is happening here," mumbled Siaril.

"That's nothing new..." I rose my hand higher and strengthened the flame in it.

To our surprise, the light revealed the end of the underground passageway just a few meters further. The walls just ended abruptly, falling into some dark chamber. We looked at each other again, then carefully entered. The darkness was hiding everything jealously, but it still felt like the room was pretty huge.

The strange noises from the depths of the dungeon followed us just beyond the threshold, then died out. As soon as the last, crystalline sound stopped echoing in the blackness, suddenly torches started coming to life along the walls, as if lit by an invisible hand. All three of us took an involuntary step back.

The chamber was indeed huge and almost completely empty, but... gorgeous. The irregular surface of the bright floor seemed to be hewed carelessly in the sandstone, but upon looking closely we realized that it was carved into a beautiful map of whole Earlindon, along with the land of mages in the north.

Above our heads, on the low ceiling, we saw murals depicting probably all possible species of dragons, so magnificent and vivid as if they were drafted with living light and not paint or multicolored stones. The walls around us were covered in paintings too, though only on the right side and across the entrance. Here the murals looked more like depictions of scenes rather than portraits.

There was only a single pedestal in the shape of an open flower standing in the middle of all this beauty. The calyx resembled a bluebell, carved subtly out of the sandstone, but... it was empty.

And before any of us could even say a word, we suddenly heard a voice...

"Finally... you're finally here..." it sounded female, and seemed to come from all around us, deep and very gentle. "I waited so long for you to set foot into this chamber... So many years... and here you are..."

"Who are you?!" Yasenka mustered the courage to shout out, looking around. There wasn't a single soul nearby, no door, no other corridor. Just the voice seeming to fill the room.

"I'm one of those who lived for centuries, watching the sea shape the cliffs and water from glaciers form rivers... who wondered if one day everything will vanish, be it due to erosion or other causes... We are meant to meet soon. I will wait for you in the heart of the Dragon Mountains, along with the shard of the Sunrise. Have no fear, it isn't lost, neither did it fall into Sharish's hands. I removed it so that he would not feel tempted to destroy the City of Pearls as well. I will explain everything once you arrive. I will be waiting..."

The voice faded away, and as it dissipated, so did the feeling of someone's presence in the chamber.

"So we got it right..." Yasenka said quietly after a few moments of silence. "There was a shard here, but got moved to the mountains, which is why Sharish became interested in them."

"But who was that?"

"I have no idea. It..." she trailed off suddenly. Before I could ask, she crossed the room, heading towards the pedestal in the middle, circled around it and kneeled down. We followed, curious.

There was a small chest standing behind the sandstone flower. Made of dark, almost black wood, draped in a decorative net of black plait with real pearls stringed on it. Yasenka carefully opened the lid, revealing around three dozens of big scales in various colors and shapes, lying on the velvet covered bottom. The light of the torches stroke colorful sparks from them.

"I guess the trip here wasn't for nothing after all," Yasenka said, satisfied and amazed at the same time. "This should brake Sharish's game of reviving dragons a little."

"And should cause him to lose interest in Tacritia completely," I nodded. "The people here really don't need him visiting."

I offered to carry our find. As we left the mythic chamber, the torches went out and the dungeon was once more enveloped by darkness. We lit our own fires and made our way back to the exit.