The tomb was cold. Preserved for centuries by a circular stone seal stamped with the emblem of the ouroboros, tall grass and lush trees swayed to life as time reignited in their veins and vesicles. Adora gracefully plunged into the abyss, her heart aflutter at the height, her gloves zipping against a taut rope as she descended and planted herself on the flat weathered floor.
In the ancient well, Adora's pupils dilated and drank in the shadows. Towering owl-soldier statues surrounded her. They seemed to step out from the walls from which they were carved and she could feel an aura of magic emanating from them. Adora took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and whispered an incantation. A small glowing butterfly plopped out of her satchel bag and fluttered around her in a delicate circle.
"Let's go, Calcifer," she said. "Is there anything in here I should be worried about?"
As she descended the stairs, Califer's light painted an eerie scene. The mezzanine was strewn with a river of bones and among them, countless blades, like graves tied with ribbons, stuck in the earth. Shadows flicked and danced as the butterfly's incandescent shimmer trickled past them. 700 years ago there had been a great war between the sea-elves and beastmen. Had these poor souls really been trapped by magic all that time? Why hadn't they been preserved like the grass and the trees?
Before long, Calcifer was out of sight, and the pale light of the entrance wasn't strong enough to reach this far into the tomb. Adora's feet idled through the bones of deceased elf warriors finding nothing of value. She bent down and examined a piece of unbent armor. She traced her fingers over its groves peeling off a thin layer of dust revealing the gloomy sheen of intricate metal. Just then, Calcifer came back into view.
"What's that? You found something?" she called. He disappeared.
When she rounded the corner, she found Calcifer perched upon a tiny chest. She got close and examined it. It was just a plain wooden chest, held shut with a lock. She touched it. It wasn't enchanted. Just a plain old lock. But no key. Adora shrugged.
Adora took out her ivory hilt and, with a squeeze, flicked it open. A metal club, its twin crenelated faces patterned with spirals, snapped open like a dragon-blossom. Calcifer flitted away. The club gleamed in the dim light, its weight a promise of power. With a single swing, she shattered the lock and the sound of splintering wood echoed through the chamber. Calcifer's delicate wings pounded in the air around her.
She kicked open the chest and gulped when a gentle light kissed her face.
