Arath Tal did not forget its own myths.
In the Cindermint Lounge — a noble tea house carved from marble and old debts — the murals on the walls once sang of glory. Painted in crushed ruby and dusted gold, they told the story of Avaron's founding: a thousand men kneeling before a crowned figure who held a scepter of flame and a scroll of law...
The murals on the walls once sang of glory.
Painted in crushed ruby and dusted gold, they told the story of Avaron's founding — a thousand men kneeling before a crowned figure who held a scepter of flame and a scroll of law. But now, the reds had faded to rust, the gold dulled to brass. A fine layer of soot gathered near the ceiling, as if even the smoke of forgotten incense couldn't bear to rise here anymore.
Only the silence remained untouched.
