As the bricks fall away and the dust clears, you see a dimly lit room. A soft woven rug sits in the middle of the floor, and beautiful landscape paintings hang on the walls, interspersed with magically lit candles.
Nearby, an old metal bucket sits, filled with what was once the remains of mortar; a spade is also stuck inside. Two or three bricks are stacked neatly beside it as well.
In the corner sits a stone bed. A mummified skeleton lays peacefully atop it, but far newer than the others in the catacombs. He is very old in appearance, with a long beard and frail features. Wearing simple robes and trousers of a navy blue color, he also has a silver pendant around his neck in the shape of a snowflake.
A white sheet, similar to those used in the halls of dead, covers him up to the chest. On an alcove beside him rests an old gray journal, a small quill, and a bottle of dried ink.
You pick up the book and look inside.
This written work is that of Sir Gregory Alden II,
son of Leodred Alden,
son of Lord Gregory Alden I, the final of the royal Crest of the Lords
(Throughout the book, you see journal entries detailing the days of Gregory Alden II, and the last days of New Dolor. You flip to the final few entries.)
Journal entry- AR 2767
It is the beginning of the end. The winds of fate decreed this from our conception, to be true. That the land shall live on forever, as soil begets soil, and sky begets sky, but we are as the petals of the poppies in the meadow. We clung long past our season, and the chill of a new winter is upon us. We have but a few moved on to the forever after of the dusk.
This day I lay to rest my father, who has finally been freed of the chains of long-established illness, may his spirit rest forever in peace. But also my little sister, who so dearly loved our patriarch that her heart rent in pieces, and sent her with him. I wept openly, unashamed, carrying her small body to the temple, so soon after his departure. They will keep one another company, until my life expires and I may join them. They sleep now in the halls of our ancestors, bless their souls. Bless the souls of all our people, and may the gods have mercy on me, the final man in the quiet solitude of this lonely paradise.
Journal entry - AR 2772
I cannot describe the inexorable weight I feel. I could leave, but then our home would be truly empty, save for the animal beasts who walk its surface. The thought of not seeing out my days here sorrows me beyond grief. Even if I did depart, I would not belong anywhere else. Just a byword, a shade, a beggar. I am aged now, and time runs through my fingers as fine sand. No, I must remain steadfast. I am needed here, to protect our history from completely crumbling away. It only takes time.
I wandered the ancestral halls of the dead for days, weeks, meditating with our family from beyond the centuries. Seeking familiarity. Loneliness has grasped a hold of me in an icy grip again. I was not blessed with the same frailty as many of our kin before me, whose candles burned far quicker than mine. What a irony of fate it is, indeed. And alas, I am too much the coward to face them in the lands beyond, should I take my own life. No, I wish to return to them with honor, and stories to tell.
Perhaps I will venture above ground once more, like a new beetle from a cocoon, and feel refreshed. There is much I can still enjoy, even in my state. I will return here soon enough, I should not rush the inevitable.
Journal entry - AR 2790
After visiting my sister again and praying for her dear comfort, a wild fancy came over me. I feel it was inspired of her, who played fine tricks so often in her youth. I truly felt invigorated such as I haven't felt in many a winter. Perhaps I could assist her in one last joyful blessing upon our home.
I have begun holing away our treasured artifacts and histories. It has been slow work. My bones do not move as freely as they once did, and the labor is arduous. Surely someday, someone may come upon our beloved heaven here. I pray they will be kind, and honor it as we have, although only time will tell. I was never quite the riddler my sister was, but mayhaps our combined creations will test the minds of those future fellows. Let us see what they make of it. It will be a great laugh we will have, when it is made plain the answer.
(Here, you see scrawled several numbers in dark charcoal: | 8(3) | 3(5) | 2(2) | 1(2) | 6(1) | 5(2) | 7(1) | 4(4) |
Journal entry - AR 2802
I feel it is time. My body, at last, has been growing faint. Several days now I have been confined to my bed, in and out of deep slumber. I thought I would expire there, away from my kin in the temple, but blessed be the rays of sun this morn who brought me borrowed energy. I arose, grateful, having forgotten what such breath felt like. I prayed fervently in gratitude, more than I ever had thus in my youth.
Although I am filled with nothing but gladness to join my family again, now that this day is here, it is bittersweet. I will take one final walk, albeit slowly, through the edge of the woods yonder. It was always my favorite place to contemplate.
Bless my eyes in this old age of mine; I spied one of the great Ki-rins. I had heard the tales as a babe, just fables for us few children to make sweet dreams with. I wept with such immense joy, as I have never felt in all my life. I could not stopper my tears. It stood so regal, like an ancient king of old, shimmering in golden scale armor shined by a hundred thousand hands. Its horn was certainly several feet long, like a great spear, that glistened with such glittering light as to make the sun herself bashful. His deep hued eyes seemed so somber and kindly, as he looked upon me like a father upon a sucking child. He nodded to me, shaking his soft golden mane as he left, and faded off into the trees.
I felt more strength enter me, enough for what I needed--nay, wanted--to do. I wanted to be with my kin, but I could not perform the anointing and oils, nor dress my body after I expire. I settled for an alternative. If any shall find me here, I chose the closest place I could be to my kin, and used the last of my strength to wall myself in. I fear I did a poor job of it, but alas, it shall make due. Farewell, dear world, I depart for the arms of my family. They have waited enough, and I shan't keep them longer.