This feeling... I'm not even sure what to call it.

I know that part of it is giddiness, bad enough that it's taking all of my willpower to keep from throwing my hands in the air and cackling just like how one of my father's friends always does.

Another part of it is anxiousness, and so much of it that it wouldn't be surprising if I ended up fainting outright like one of those oh-so-delicate court ladies back home.

And just as strong as the other two is this sense of amazing, incomparable triumph. Because, I mean... I was completely, unequivocally RIGHT!

I scoured the libraries for details of this region's history, I made my way all the way out here in the middle of the forgotten wilderness without anyone else's assistance, and I located the secret entrance to this place behind a raging waterfall.

All me. Not my father. Not anyone else. Me.

And after a having a hellish time traversing a complex maze behind said waterfall that was both gigantic and completely devoid of anything even resembling a light source, I'm currently standing in front of what I'm pretty sure is the door to an ancient temple.

Or maybe it's a tomb? I won't know for sure until I actually go inside.

But either way, it's clear that I'm the first person to come down here in probably a thousand years or so.

"Alright, let's do this."

After taking a few seconds to psych myself up a little, I press my hand against the stone door and put all my weight into it.

"...huh."

Despite my concerns about the potential of complicated locking mechanisms or even just the possibility of the hinges having corroded away over a thousand years of disuse, the thing just slides right on open without so much as a creak.

Definitely better than the alternative.

"Now let's see what this place actually is..."

Since the interior of this newly-opened room is every bit as unlit as the hell-maze it's connected to, the first thing I do is cast a quick light orb spell and toss it inside so I can have some actual visibility.

"Well," I mumble to myself as I step inside. "So it's a tomb after all."

According to the research I did in order to even find this place, the people who built it belonged to a heretical civilization that worshipped Elemental Spirits as deities. Most such temples were wiped out during the Holy War, but a secluded place like this would have been the perfect place for a remnant of such a religion to have survived to the present day.

But oh well, tombs are still interesting in their own right.

Smooth black walls, maybe made out of marble? Geology was never really my field, but it's as good enough a guess as any. They're composed of a series of cut panels, all polished to a beautiful shine that's completely wasted on a place that nobody was ever intended to lay eyes on.

Lined across the very top, very bottom and center of the walls are bands of geometric patterns that were carved into the stone itself and then filled with some kind of metal that I am in no way familiar with. I've seen enough gold over the course of my life to know that it isn't that, but its exact makeup is once against lost on me.

This is when my father would crack some line about how me slacking off on my studies.

As for the room itself, it's devoid of any furniture or pottery or anything of the sort, and the only thing that actually signifies it as a tomb is the altar opposite the door I just entered from.

And so, gripping my staff in both hands just in case, I make a beeline towards that very place.

A very careful beeline.

Upon closer look, what I initially thought was a single altar is in fact a collection of multiple pieces.

In the very front is a small lectern that rises to around my chest, atop which rests an unfurled scroll.

At either side of the lectern are an identical pair of statues of the long-forgotten Elemental Spirit that this place's builders worshipped. Unlike the more-or-less humanoid shapes that most of them tend to assume, this one has weird branching limbs and a central body that seems to be... is this some kind of radial symmetry?

Looking at it in this non-ideal lighting is giving me kind of a headache though, so let's move on to the next thing.

Sitting just behind the lectern and heretical idols is a pedestal upon which rests a massive coffin. Running my fingers across it to check, it seems to be made out of some kind of lacquered wood? It's kind of impressive that there's no sign of any rotting, even after all this time.

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

And past the coffin is the back wall of the room, upon which hangs a massive tapestry depicting the visage of who I'm assuming is the inhabitant of the coffin- a stern-looking man with long black hair and a finely-groomed mustache.

I'm pretty sure he wasn't a king considering the lack of treasure and all that... but considering the whole "hidden tomb" thing, he still must have been pretty important.

Maybe the scroll on the lectern can shed some light as to his identity.

"Let's see..."

After propping my staff on one of the empty walls in order to free up both of my hands, I return to the lectern and carefully lift the scroll from its resting place.

Mercifully, the act of doing so doesn't cause the thing to crumble to dust.

...dammit why didn't I adjust my glasses before picking this thing up this is so awkward to do with no hands...

...and then there's the fact that I didn't position another light orb closer-by to get a better view with...

An indeterminate amount of internal self-flagellation later, I finally commence my examination of the ancient document.

...huh. I haven't seen this in a while.

Rather than the Draconic that most of the world reads and speaks, this thing is written in an archaic human language that I'd only ever seen in my father's research materials.

Not to say that I'm incapable of reading it, of course. After all, I've made it way too far to be stopped by something as banal as illiteracy.

"Let's see..."

Mumbling to myself, I mentally rifle through the seemingly endless catalogue of linguistic knowledge that my father's been cramming into my brain for as long as I've been capable of coherent thought.

"Ah, here we go."

Once my mindset is in order, translating it is naught but a trifle.

My life was in service to my people

I guided them to prosperity

I delivered them from disaster

I guarded them from our enemies

Their joy was my joy

Their sorrow was my sorrow

Though I come to an early end

My death is one of glorious triumph

For my final acts are in service to my people

To combat our hated enemy

To end the threat of that accursed witch

Though I may lack the strength to slay her outright

I give my life to imprison her

So that my people may prosper without fear

And even after my flame burns out

I shall continue to imprison her in death

For as she tormented my people in this life

I shall torment her in the next life

Eternally

"Uhh..."

After taking another look to make sure I didn't mistranslate anything, I return the scroll to its resting place.

"...that's... quite the grudge."

And I guess that does at least somewhat explain how he died, though the actual identity of "that accursed witch" is still a mystery to me.

But if I take what's said here literally, maybe this guy hated her so much that he actually had her buried alive with his corpse? I mean, that's exactly the kind of barbaric stuff that people used to do back then.

...his coffin is right here and all... and it is made of wood...

A huge stone deathbox would be one thing, but even my spindly noodle arms should be able to get a wooden casket open without any magical assistance.

"I mean it's not like I'm desecrating his grave," I say aloud to whatever ghosts might certainly not exist. "I'm just taking a peek inside for academic purposes."

After all, who would go through all the trouble to reach an ancient tomb without actually examining the body? It's practically sacrilegious not to!

And so, having thoroughly convinced myself that this is a perfectly normal, scholarly thing to do, I step up to the pedestal where the coffin lies, locate the seam between the coffin and its lid, and do what needs to be done.

Why in God's name is a wooden coffin lid so much harder to move than the massive stone door that let me in here.

I'm a scholar, dammit.

I wasn't built for manual labor.

Why is this so heavyyyyyyyy

"Nnnnnnghaaaaaaa!"

With a very much non-embarrassing grunt of effort, I finally manage to remove the lid from the coffin proper. If an audience had seen my efforts just now, they'd surely be moved to tears and not laughing.

And with the coffin interior exposed to the stale air of the tomb chamber and the light of two separate magical orbs (I had sense enough to cast a second before trying to open it), I'm now free to examine its contents.

Hm.

Total skeleton.

I guess that's better than there still being desiccated flesh left over.

Skeletons might be spooky and all, but the total lack of fleshy bits provides a certain amount of disconnect from the reality of looking at a corpse. On the other hand, mummified corpses still "feel" like people and so elicit that sense of dread that most non-crazy people feel upon seeing a dead body.

So hooray, no nightmares for me. Probably.

Continuing on with my examination, I give the body itself a quick once-over. And immediately find that despite what that epitaph scroll implied, there's only the one body in here.

I find myself breathing something of a sigh of relief upon that realization.

The corpse's clothing seems to be exactly the same as depicted on the tapestry behind the coffin, which isn't much of a surprise. Even now, it's considered standard practice across cultures to bury the dead in their finest garments.

As for the posing of the body... rather than the common arms-folded-over-chest or arms-at-the sides poses, this one's arms are positioned straight down up to the elbow, after which point they're bent upwards towards the chest-

"Wait, he's holding something?"

It appears to be some kind of spherical object, about the same size as two fists balled together. It's a dull matte black, and tapping against it with my finger shows that it isn't made of metal or wood.

The fact that I've never seen this material before in my life only serves to further stir my academic curiosity.

And so, speaking a word of apology to the departed, I carefully remove the mystery object from its bony grip and hold it up to the light.

Turns out that it's actually not all that heavy at all, and applying pressure with my fingertips reveals that it has a bit of give to it. Maybe it's hollow?

What I really want to do is chip a little piece off to give to my father since maybe he might be able to figure something out... but damaging a mysterious ancient relic in such a way, even for academic purposes, just seems wrong.

"Still though," I mumble to myself, "I really want to know what this thing is made of..."

Without thinking, I lightly tap it against the wood of the coffin-

And a massive explosion bathes the entire room in a blinding white light.