Chapter 1: [Chapter one:] Ruins

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 make some crack about 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.

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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.

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.

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