The Ancient Grikels, one of the oldest civilizations on Aerten, buried their most powerful dead in a cave.

This was because they believed that the closer they were to the core of the Aerten, the closer they would be to the great flow of souls. Since then, the great flow of souls has been rigorously disproven by scientists. The same scientists who no longer even attempt to explain the Prophet’s cave. No Yular has ever made the connection.

As per their beliefs, the Ancient Grikels buried their most powerful king in the deepest cave they could find. Later, professional grave robbers, aka archeologists, entered the tomb, and found the body, with a heartfelt note saying ‘Sorry for stealing your grave’

Later, it was discovered that ever sentient being with the concept of language could understand the words written on that note.

A century after discovery, another archeologist left to explore the cave, and found it went even deeper. After sending that message back up, he went in.

After he came out, he never spoke again.

That all being said, Jagel had no idea what they were doing here.

”Cmon, Aiin! Why are we even going down here in the first place?”

”Jagel,” Aiin teased, “where’s your sense of adventure?”

”Aiin,” Jagel shot back, “where’s your sense of self-preservation?”

Aiin smiled, which was nice. She didn’t do that often anymore. Almost immediately, her face darkened.

”Let’s just-Just keep on going.”

Well now, this was strange. You never went into the prophet’s cave without a reason.

So why couldn’t Janel remember hers?

”Wait.” Aiin tensed up.

”Aiin, let’s get out of here, this place is giving me the creeps.”

Aiim didn’t respond, just staring ahead.

”Whatever, Aiin, I’m getting out off-“ Janel said, beginning to turn around

”When did the tunnel start changing color?”

Jagel looked down at the floor, and noticed it wasn’t even rock anymore. Just… a bunch of red and purple lines. They almost looked like they were woven together.

Jagel shook her head, snapping herself out of it. “We need to go!” Jagel exclaimed, turning around fully, but then she noticed-

“Well well well. Been years since anyone decided to visit me, let alone someone as interesting as you two.”

The way they came… was sealed by a wall.

Janel slowly turned around, and saw Aiin looking straight back at her. Then they both turned to look at the strange voice.

“Jagelgar of family Kilentall. Aiinafar of family Fatidicius. Can’t have someone as interesting as you two leaving, can I?”

When Jagel looked at the owner of the voice, no, when Jagel looked at the prophet, the prophet looked just like Jagel’s brother, Aiel. The same brother who died from the curse just a year ago.

The same one who had a patterned scar on his head because of his curse. The scar, that if tattooed or other wise added to the skin without having had the curse would kill them. No exceptions. A society once saw a god fall from the sky and burn up death in a city because he tried to tattoo it on his face.

And so, in the shock of everything, Jagel fainted.

End of Part 1