“Welcome, traveler, to the lost city of Al’Aethair! … No, that isn’t right.”

Under the sweltering sun of the Zeinav Desert stood a lone tiefling, pacing back and forth in front of the yawning entrance to a deep cavern, muttering to themselves. The fellblood wore a deep, contemplative frown on their face, tapping their finger against their chin. After a few moments of thought, the fellblood broke out into a bright smile, whirling around to face an invisible audience, spreading their arms out wide in a grandiose gesture, before shouting,

“Welcome, brave traveler, to the ancient city of Ja’Lok, thought to be lost for centuries, only recently uncovered by a mysterious earthquake- ah, this one is no good either.”

The fellblood slumped, huffing out a breath as their enthusiasm dimming ever so slightly. Petulantly, they turned and kicked at a rock at their side, watching it tumble across the sand before rolling to a halt. Weeks of perfect planning, down the drain, and all because they couldn’t think of a damned name. The ones they’d come up with were good, but good wasn’t enough. If Morrigan Moonweaver wanted to sell these ancient, run down ruins as something mystical and wonderful, they were going to need more than just satisfactory. It needed to be perfect.

It had been nearly a month since the earthquake hit this part of the desert, shifting the sands enough to reveal a hidden cavern buried deep underground. Morrigan had been… taking advantage of the generosity of a trader group that graciously allowed them to hitch a ride in their caravan for free, when the merchants came across this abandoned cave and found what lay inside. An entire city of unknown origin, nearly perfectly preserved from whatever time period it hailed from.

The monumental discovery was soured only by the fact that there was no recorded information about its origin, but Morrigan wasn’t one to be troubled by little setbacks. Where scholars and historians might make arguments about little things like immorality and obscuring the facts, Morrigan saw opportunity. What better way to unveil one of the greatest discoveries in recent history than by giving personal tours by the great Wizard of the Wastes themselves?

It had taken some time, and some careful rumors placed in the right ears, but Morrigan finally got a bite from a curious adventurer who’d approached them while they were relaxing in a tavern the other evening, inquiring about a guide.

The stage was set, and a meeting had been arranged for this afternoon in front of the very cavern where Morrigan now stood, awaiting the precocious traveler to arrive. Their story was perfect, and everything had been put into motion.

Except, upon arriving, Morrigan realized they’d forgotten to come up with a bloody fake name for the place.

So now they were scrambling to come up with the right pitch, practicing to themselves while they waited.

They grumbled, running a hand through their hair. “These are no good. I may as well just call it the Ruins Lost to Time and call it a day.” The title was over the top and possessed little subtle flair, but it would lure in your average sucker well enough.

Just as Morrigan was about to settle on it, they heard the crunch of sand behind them, signaling they had company. It was time to put on a show.

Morrigan whirled around, putting a bright smile on their face as they greeted their charge, spreading their hands wide. Picking the first name that came to mind, Morrigan called out,

“Welcome, traveler, to the lost city of Al’Aethair!”

“Oh—”

The offender of the sound is a tall red tiefling— his tail coiled close to his legs, where he is frozen in a surprised mid-step after his guide had suddenly turned to greet him without warning. A parasol is held above his head with a tightened grip, shielding him from the merciless, beating sun of the desert. Though he has a mask on his face, red and dragon-like in appearance, his golden eyes still seem surprised for a moment.

He blinks a few times before clearing his throat.

Cantio stands upright, sand shifting beneath his boots as he straightens. He leans the cherrywood haft of his parasol against his shoulder leisurely, and offers them a sheepish smile. “Um, good morning! Thank you.” he chuckles; his golden eyes seem bright behind the shade of his mask. “Al’Aethair, huh?” Cantio turns his eyes to the cavern behind Morrigan.

The young man standing before them appears to be quite the charismatic sort, himself; he’s donned in bright reds and golds. When they had first met him, he had been wearing a long red and gold overcoat— but in light of traveling in the vast and infamous Zeinav heat, he seems to have traded that in for something a little lighter— and so, a snug-fitting red and gold vest with golden embroidery clings to him over his long-sleeved undershirt, instead.

He wears a number of belts and sashes around his waist with a number of items; a closed fan, small pouches, and a leather-bound journal wrapped around a notch of his belt; being the most notable. Across his chest appears to be a leather strap, and on his back is a case which very clearly seems to contain some kind of instrument.

Two, in fact, given there seems to be a bone-carved flute hanging off one side of his hip. A bit of an odd looking adventurer to be interested in the ruins, in hindsight— in fact, he downright looks like a minstrel… but could Morrigan really afford to be picky with the clientele?

Cantio’s golden eyes drift back to the purple tiefling after a moment of observing the outer remains of the ruins with a faint smile. “I have to thank you again for taking time out of your busy schedule to escort me around the ruins,” he praises, “I hear nothing but good things for the Wizard of the Wastes from the people of Zeinav.” Cantio’s tail sways leisurely, undulating contently in the calm of the morning. "In fact..." The tiefling places his free hand, palm resting against his cheek as he looks at Morrigan.

He looks ponderingly at them, but there's not an ounce of skepticism in his golden eyes— rather, it's curiosity.

"I heard someone say that you caused the earthquake that unveiled the ruins yourself because you could feel its presence deep beneath the sands— is that true?"

The fellblood in front of them was well dressed, and obviously had an eye for fashion that Morrigan appreciated. Red and gold- bold color choices that spoke of a strong personality, and the dragon mask indicated hidden strength. But did the visage fit the man? Morrigan had only spoken with him briefly a few nights ago when they arranged this adventure into the ruins, enough to make a fleeting impression of his mannerisms. Time would tell, they supposed.



What was his name again…?



Yes, that was it. Morrigan clapped their hands together, a plethora of rings clicking together with the movement. “Ah, yes. Cantio Von Lumen, was it? A strong name.” A performer’s name, confirmed by the case and the bone-flute he carried on his person. Morrigan didn’t appear at all surprised at the fact that their client was a minstrel. In their experience, those of the bardic inspiration had the most curious minds.



“Oh, think nothing of it.” Morrigan assured him quickly. “There are few in the deserts with curious minds, and fewer still with the courage to ask me for assistance. Such boldness should be rewarded.”



They smiled, revealing a mouth full of sharpened teeth.



Despite the morning heat of the desert, Morrigan still wore their signature coat, one designed with a breathable fabric that kept them cool. Their outfit may have been considered impractical by some, but Morrigan considered it important to give off the effortless, mystical appearance befitting of the one called the great Wizard of the Wastes- the very title Cantio had just referenced.



“The people of Zeinav are too kind to me.” Morrigan said, a humble expression affixed on their face as they pressed a heartfelt hand to their chest. “And all of it, I’m afraid, is true. I hadn’t intended to cause such a large quake, but what’s done is done, I suppose. And more importantly, one of the biggest secrets of our age has been uncovered because of it.”



All of these were, of course, were lies, but Morrigan had perfected their craft over the years- they moved quickly, preventing any listener from thinking too hard about what they’d last said. “But we shouldn’t dally. Come- there is much to do, much to see.”



Morrigan set off at a brisk pace, deeper into the caves. They looked back, double checking to make sure that Cantio was following them. The winding tunnels sloped downwards, bringing them deeper underground. It would be some time before they reached the ruins- now Morrigan needed to build anticipation. They turned to Cantio with a curious expression on their face.


“So, Cantio Von Lumen, tell me. What do you know of the legend of the lost city?”

Cantio blinks as the wizard claps and smiles brightly at his compliment; the red tiefling’s face flushes beneath his mask, delighted with it coming from such a high-regarded individual. “Thank you,” he chuckles, his smile warm as he watches Morrigan’s generously enthusiastic— yet somehow, slightly restrained— gestures.

“Ah… I don’t know if I would say it’s boldness; you’re being very generous.” he counters with a soft laugh. Cantio swings his parasol off his shoulder; it folds in on itself, allowing it to be neatly stored on his back— the pattern, albeit visible only briefly— appears to be of a phoenix and dragon circling in flight. It matches his aesthetic quite well.

He looks back to them, curiosity in his golden eyes while Morrigan presses a hand against their chest, his voice impressively humble for a tiefling who can shake the earth like a snowglobe! “That’s amazing!” Cantio remarks, a sparkle in his eyes; it’s a bit selfish, actually, the reason he’s come… with the hopes that uncovering something here, in these old ruins, might help his chances of slipping into the Arcane Academy.

Perhaps learn something new enough to impress someone; catalogue old artifacts; all the wot-not that looks good on a resume… he still hasn’t heard back from those old wizards. He takes a stiff breath, pushing his anxious mind from the topic, and shakes his head to get back into it while Morrigan remarks about continuing forwards. “Oh! Right, of course!” he agrees.

Cantio hops after them, his boots sliding in the sand as he follows the tiefling into the deep caves; and frankly, he’s relieved to hit solid ground again. The air within the caves is still dry, but feels a bit more humid than outside, with all things considered; but it is a bit dark, and so… Cantio extends a hand, conjuring forth a small orb, which warbles into a small, fidgeting songbird.

It glows brightly— perhaps a small flex on his part— and he does hope to look at least mildly competent in front of an individual with as much talent as the Wizard of the Waste!

He’s in the middle of looking at some odd scratches on the wall while they walk, when Morrigan poses a question. “Oh— well, I’ve heard it’s been buried for nearly thousands of years…” he remarks hesitantly as he follows. “Outside of that... I'm not very familiar— I'm not from Zeinav, you see... what's the legend of it?"

The bird was… unexpected. Morrigan blinked as Cantio Von Lumen conjured the ball of light, illuminating their descent into the cavern. He looked rather proud of himself, oblivious to Morrigan’s momentary shock at the sight. The fellblood, as always, recovered quickly. They somehow had not accounted for Cantio Von Lumen being the genuine article, but this did not change their plans. The fellblood’s tail flicked behind them as they calculated their next moves. They would have to take more care when constructing this plot, but there would be no changing what had been set in action. Cantio Von Lumen was effectively trapped in the web Morrigan had spun, one that would choke the fellblood out of all their coin before sunset.

Morrigan whirled around to face the taller fellblood that had been trailing behind them, coat spinning from the force of their spin. They continued walking backwards at the same brisk pace they had struck up before. “Are you, perhaps, a practitioner of the arcane yourself? A scholar, even? One with hopes of getting into a certain academy?” They probed, a question that seemed innocent enough on the outside- the answer, on the other hand, would tell Morrigan all they wanted to know.

A magician and an aspiring academic… Cantio Von Lumen sought mysticism and intrigue in these ruins.

Morrigan was more than happy to deliver. And given the dragon mask the other fellblood wore, Morrigan thought the story they’d prepared was quite fitting.

“Let me start this tale of woe by stating that it is not for the faint of heart.” Morrigan warned. “Al’Aethair did indeed exist thousands of years ago… three millenia, to be exact. The true date of its collapse is a topic of great debate by scholars, but all of them could agree on one thing- Al’Aethair, once a bustling civilization of innovation and progress, was razed by dragons.”

Morrigan gave room for a dramatic pause, letting the information sink in.

This aspect of the story was actually an educated guess on Morrigan’s part- when they first stumbled upon this decrepit underground tomb, they’d found nothing of worth except for a single piece of smooth, chipped stone. The very same stone Morrigan now kept nestled in their bag of wondrous tricks, right next to a few vials of potions they kept in case they needed a quick escape.

Morrigan reached into their bag, rummaging for a moment before pulling it out, holding it in the air clutched between two sharpened nails. “Behold! A fossilized dragon’s scale!”

All of this, of course, was fiction carefully designed by Morrigan to draw in curious saps like Cantio Von Lumen- it was all very pretty, but ultimately meaningless.

“It is said that the people of Al’Aethair held an ancient scroll with a spell that they had created, one that would bring about prosperity to their lands. The dragons coveted such power- in their jealousy they brought fire down upon the city.”

The real truth behind this musty old tomb? Morrigan didn’t know, nor did they care. Perception guided reality, and did the truth really even matter, if Cantio Von Lumen felt like he was making a truly important discovery?

Of course, if Morrigan had paid closer attention to what the ruins held the first time they ventured down here, they would have noticed the scratches on the wall that Cantio Von Lumen had already spotted, or that the city they were rapidly approaching was full of murals and ancient texts that would easily contradict their tale.

But Morrigan didn’t often think so far ahead.

The slope began flattening out under their feet, indicating that they had stopped their descent. Soon, the tunnel would open up to a yawning cave, one that contained ancient, rocky architecture and old stone constructions covered in layers of sand and dust. Morrigan slowed their pace, allowing Cantio Von Lumen to catch up.

“But I have rambled enough. You will see for yourself, no? We should be approaching the city’s border soon.”

As the Wizard of the Wastes twirls on their heel to face him, Cantio startles. The bird in his palm flutters its wings as if mimicking the spike in his own emotions; its beak chitters soundlessly, head twitching. “H-huh?” Cantio stutters; that’s an unexpected question! His hopes had been idle, so for Morrigan to suddenly inquire about even the Arcane Academy… a chill runs down his spine.

Can Morrigan read his mind? That’s a horrifying thought! Half the time, he’s not even sure what’s going on up there. At the Wizard’s presumed skill level… is that something that’s possible?

“Um,” he chuckles sheepishly, leaning his free palm against his cheek. “Well… yes, actually.” he admits, his smile sheepish. “I was hoping to make a report on the ruins and send it in, in hopes of them taking my application more seriously… I am a minstrel, first and foremost— obviously not their usual candidate, and so…” he trails off, golden gaze drifting beneath the mask. “...so I don’t know if maybe they think it’s a joke, and that’s why I haven’t heard back from them.”

Wow, that came out weirdly harsh on himself; it takes a moment for it to strike Cantio.

He smiles sheepishly, trying to waive the awkward air with a sway of a hand.

“But yes, I’m here to learn, as well, of course! Though I’m hardly a scholar, I am a storyteller; my heart can most certainly take the tale.” As a storyteller himself, he should probably know when to recognize a story: but Cantio does not, apparently. He listens attentively to Morrigan as they speak; telling the tale of the Lost City of Al’Aethair.

Their face is lit dramatically in the darkness, pale eyes refracting the warm light of the bird in Cantio’s palm as they emphasize that the city was razed by dragons. Cantio gasps, golden eyes widening, because he is definitely the exact kind of sucker that a person like Morrigan would ideally look for in their shenanigans.

“Dragons?” he repeats, a slight grimace on his lips; he had seen the scratches earlier on the wall. They were too shallow for something like a dragon— ancient, draconic behemoths— but they could easily be made by those trapped in the old city, trying to get out while their cities are razed… the very thought sends a shudder down his spine. “That’s dreadful…” he bemoans.

Suddenly, Morrigan pulls a dragon’s scale from their bag— and while it looks kind of like a smooth stone, it is fossilized— so it makes sense. “Oh!” he stutters, eyes wide as he leans forwards a bit, trying to get a closer look— Morrigan is still walking backwards, though. “That’s amazing, this was in the city?” he chirps, eyes lifting to Morrigan’s face while the tiefling continues about Al’Aethair.

Heaven’s sake, this poor place!

He remains utterly clueless, biting hook-line-and-sinker to every story Morrigan throws his way. A flutter of anticipation rises in his stomach. “Right!” he agrees with a nod. “Thank you for regailing me on the tale; I can’t believe I’ve never heard this one before, in all the times I’ve traveled through Zeinav... I'm really looking forward to seeing it first-hand.”

So Morrigan’s hunch was correct… the other fellblood was an academic, one who would be submitting their findings for this archeological dig to gain access to the school. Perhaps someone with a conscience would have confessed to their lie at that admission, but Morrigan was not burdened with such trivial things like morality. With a charming grin, they assured the minstrel, “They would be a fool to deny someone of your talents. I’m sure the two of us will find something down here that will make those stuffy scholars admit you instantly!”

Morrigan flourished under Cantio Von Lumen’s nervous attentions. The taller tiefling, Morrigan mused, was not unlike the twittering bird of light that they cradled delicately in their palm- flighty and prone to excitement. He was already captivated by Morrigan’s story, with little effort on their own behalf.

But Morrigan was far from done.

“Indeed it was.” They replied in response to Cantio Von Lumen’s query about the “scale”. This, at least, was the truth- Morrigan had actually stubbed their toe against it during their initial exploration. Before Cantio Von Lumen could get a closer look, Morrigan snatched the stone away and placed it back in their satchel.

They had rapidly approached the edge of the cave, where Cantio Von Lumen was treated to his first look at “Al’Aethair”.

… It was a rather unimpressive settlement.

Houses looked like they’d been built out of rudimentary clay, with scorch marks littering the sides, as if someone had taken a fireball to everything in the cave. Random columns that looked like they’d been carved from stalagmites jutting up from the ground, with ancient geometrical shapes carved into them.

Morrigan threw their hands in the air, palms splayed in the air as they threw a handful of sparkling glitter into the air for added effect as they said, “We have arrived! Feast your eyes on a sight that no mere mortal has seen in three thousand years… until now!”

They paused, letting Cantio Von Lumen survey the city, when the minstrel’s eyes landed on a piece of broken pottery on the ground that may have once been part of a vase. A rather innocuous piece of pottery, all things considered, depicting what looked like a dragonkin lifting their hands to the sun…

Ah.

For a brief seconds, Morrigan’s perfectly plastered smile slipped, replaced by a look of irritation and, if one were paying attention, panic.

Dragonkin. How the bloody hell was Morrigan supposed to know the city belonged to dragonkin? This would interfere with their plans, especially since Morrigan had established that the city had been destroyed by them, not inhabited by them. While it may not have seemed like an important detail, it would plant seeds of doubt in Cantio Von Lumen’s mind, make him question Morrigan’s credibility.

And Morrigan was not in the mood to deal with a pissed off mage who could, for all intents and purposes, incinerate Morrigan with a snap of his fingers.

So Morrigan did what they did best- something monumentally stupid.

They quickly kicked the piece of pottery away, punting it out of sight, where it landed out of sight with a loud CRASH, hopefully breaking to smithereens at the impact, never to be seen again.

Morrigan took a deep breath, smoothing their hair over. The crisis was averted, for now. They could salvage this. Putting on a smile a tad too tight, Morrigan quickly put an arm around Cantio’s arm- they were too short to reach his shoulder- and smoothly maneuvered him away.

“Ah, pay no attention to that. My foot merely slipped. Now, shall we venture further in? There’s much to be seen!” Morrigan said, leading Cantio Von Lumen down a pathway through the city, one composed of faded yellow bricks that would lead them through the decrepit ruins.

Cantio smiles back, utterly placated by Morrigan’s seemingly hospitable nature; he breathes a sheepish chuckle, “Oh… There’s nothing that special about my talents, but thank you...” he remarks, stifling a sigh in favour of a sheepish, but lopsided smile as Morrigan assures him they’ll find something of interest down here for the Mage’s Academy.

He certainly hopes so… but if nothing else, then being in the company of the Wizard of the Wastes is certainly something, right? Learning first hand from a master, themselves? The tiefling blinks when the scale disappears from their line of sight; and he leans back, one hand rising to rest against the strap of his instrument case. He looks a bit embarrassed, believing that he’d gotten too close to the ancient artifact for Morrigan’s comfort; certainly, they would know how best to handle something like a dragon’s scale carefully, right?

So he continues to follow none-the-wiser, his treaded boots clicking against the sandstone while he follows the smaller tiefling into an opening of the cave.

Al’Aethair.

…

Glitter and sparkles fill his vision as Morrigan formally introduces the city, and Cantio rears back slightly with a smile and soft laugh. “It’s…”

It looks a little like a pottery studio he’d once walked into in Sol City.

Cantio tilts his head, his golden gaze sweeping the broad area, and taking in the rudimentary-looking ancient village… but perhaps its simplicity lends authenticity to how old it must be? He notices the scorch marks in the side of cracked, dry clay, and winces slightly in recollection of Morrigan’s story of Al'Aethair's demise.

“It’s… it’s really… something! It looks... um... ancient!” he remarks, uncertain how to actually describe the city. It’s fascinating, definitely! Not particularly beautiful, but definitely ancient-looking in appearance and architecture, especially given what he's used to seeing in Zeinav City. “I can’t imagine what life must have been like here, before… well…” he trails off; even the bird in his hands looks a little down as its wielder recalls the fate of the city.

As Cantio looks down, however, he notices something— a curious shard of pottery, depicting what almost looks like a —- suddenly, it’s gone, replaced by Morrigan’s boot. Cantio jumps, cringing at the sound of a crack against the far wall; he gawks for a moment, and then the tall tiefling looks at Morrigan with wide and quizzical eyes while the wizard smiles and puts an arm around him. Cantio follows without any resistance, but does look over his shoulder towards the spot where the pottery presumably cracked.

Is that okay!? Wasn’t that a piece of history!? If he could find it, he could probably fix it, but Morrigan seems intent on continuing forwards, so…

“R-right!” He agrees, part of his tone coming out in a cracked squeak while he processes the destruction of an artifact he definitely could have brought back to the mage’s guild for preservation of some kind… maybe he could convince Morrigan to let him pick up the pieces before they leave?

He looks down nervously, noticing the faded brick path they’re walking on.

He looks around, noticing that some of the other paths which branch off aren’t quite the same. He tries to change the subject, filling the awkward air with sound. “Where does the yellow brick road lead?” he remarks curiously, tail flicking behind him.

Morrigan could tell that Cantio Von Lumen was less than impressed with the city’s natural scenery as the young scholar hopeful tilted his head to the side, struggling to find something nice to say the way an aunt struggles to find a nice word for a wayward nephew.

“Indeed.” Morrigan said, regarding the ruins with a wrinkled nose while Cantio was too busy taking in his surroundings to notice the look of derision on their face. With the charm of a carpet salesman attempting to pawn off a particularly old and wine-stained carpet, Morrigan continued. “In my many years of experience I have learned that the most quiet and unassuming cities are the ones that hold the most power in them. These foundations were stitched together by the hands of those who lacked the knowledge of construction and engineering that we lack today. Yes, the people of Al’Aethair were the true pioneers of innovation and architecture!”

Their crock of bullshit was interrupted, perhaps fortunately in their case, by the offending piece of pottery that threatened to blow their story wide open. One quick kick and they were back on track, leading Cantio Von Lumen down the yellow brick road.

Hm. The story. Yes. Morrigan could do that.

“Why, this road leads to the tower, of course!” They gestured towards the large spire jutting out to the ground some distance away, barely visible from the light of Cantio Von Lumen’s fluttering bird. Even from here they could see the window balconies carved into the sides, no doubt where the ancient people would go to overlook the entire city. No doubt that was the central hub- if there was anything interesting contained in this trash heap, it would be there. “That spire belonged to the King of Al’Aethair, a powerful mage. Even today, much of his reign is shrouded in mystery, and many tales contradict one another. Was he a fair ruler? One that commanded his army of mages with an iron fist? Nobody knows. But there is one thing they can all agree on…”

Another pause for dramatic effect,

“The king was guided by a powerful demon.”

As both fellbloods walked, they passed a handful of similar spires, all with the same crude markings etched into them, and a couple bearing more of those scratch marks that were present in the cave tunnel earlier.

“It was from this demon’s knowledge and power that the king was able to create a spell scroll containing a spell powerful enough to bring about peace and prosperity for their country.” They returned the story to the spell scroll, the one they had mentioned earlier. This was a critical part of the story- one that would truly sell the deal. All they had to do was get Cantio Von Lumen to that spire, plant the evidence that was currently sitting pretty in their bag, and wait to see their story all come together, all the careful seeds coming to fruition.

The forgery was a little neat trick, one that Morrigan had carefully crumpled and left the signs of age on to seal the deal. Perhaps, to the learned eye, the forgery would be immediately discovered, and the spell would be identified as a fake- and it most certainly was, considering that the contents of the scroll simply contained a recipe for spiced jasmine biscuits that Morrigan had taken the liberty to have translated into draconic.

While Cantio Von Lumen was a fellblood, and most likely naturally inclined to the devil’s tongue much like Morrigan, they doubted that he was fluent in draconic. He would have to take this note to a translator, and by the time that happened, Morrigan would already have made away with his money.

The plan was foolproof!

“It was this power that the dragons grew jealous of, which prompted them to unleash their fury on this unfortunate town. But it is said that the king managed to squirrel away the demon’s knowledge. And if I were a betting man-“ Here, they winked up at Cantio- “I would say that our safest bet is to check that spire.”

They hardly waited for Cantio’s nervous interjections before smoothly maneuvering him in that direction.

“The tower?” Cantio repeats; he looks towards the large spire that Morrigan gestures to, narrowing his eyes in an attempt to make out its massive silhouette. He listens quietly, following along like an obedient puppy as Morrigan explains the story of the spire to him; the story of Al’Aethair, the powerful mage, who lived shrouded in mystery… yep, Morrigan has him hook, line, and sinker.

When Morrigan pauses for their dramatic effect, he waits with bated breath; he leans in slightly, tail bristling when Morrigan finally relays the secret. “A demon?” he breathes, sharing a look with the light finch resting on his shoulder before looking back at Morrigan with his head cocked. He listens avidly to their story, tail swaying in a waving cat-like motion; the treads of his heels click against the brick path as they walk. “So… even though he was working with a demon, they worked together for the betterment of the country?” he repeats, shoulders lifting with the enthusiasm in his voice; his golden eyes glitter curiously as he considers it. “People always speak so ill of demons, it’s… weird to hear about something positive for a change!”

Perhaps it’s his fiendish heritage speaking, but nonetheless, it intrigues him— the idea of working with a demon for good. They have such ill reputations, but it’s nice… to hear a story like this. He wonders if Morrigan considers it just as nice? He’s a bit sheepish to ask, so he waves the thought process off with a waive of his hand.

He considers the spell scroll instead, and lifts a hand to rest his curled index finger against his lips thoughtfully. “I wonder what kind of spell it was?” he muses, tail waving curiously as he follows Morrigan. There’s a slight bounce in his step as he takes in their surroundings— although, it really is hard to see everything at the pace they’re going, and the… well, the lack of light, really!

He purses his lips curiously, but offers Morrigan his full attention when he hears their voice. “O-oh?” he stutters, “Well, that’s…” That’s, what? Awfully rude of the dragons? Well, of course it is! “That’s awfully sad.” He frowns, “So they achieved peace for their country, but at the cost of the country, too?” He sways, then looks curiously at Morrigan as they wink up at him. “W-wait, you think the spell scroll’s still here? The one that they achieved peace with?”

There’s a glitter in his eyes, and an excited sweep of his tail; for now, the rest of the majesty of this lost city is lost to him, with the promise of something that once achieved peace for a country. Imagine the possibilities of a spell like that! He practically glimmers with excitement, his anxiety and nerves slipping away like rain off a metal frame, and he follows Morrigan gleefully. “Do you think it could be used today? The spell, that is? I mean— a spell like that's a real major find, right?”

‘Too good to be true’ doesn’t cross his mind at the moment as he entertains the possibilities.

“There could be peace all over the land with a spell like that— if everyone had enough to be happy, right?”

There was not an ounce of skepticism in Cantio Von Lumen’s voice as he nodded along to Morrigan’s tale about the demon, as if this all made perfect sense. He did not look bothered by mention of a demon as Morrigan had expected, either - rather, he seemed rather intrigued by this line of thinking. Yes, Morrigan could work with that. In any good scheme, it was always important to pay attention to what the mark clung to. The principle was one that Madam Medb had driven into Morrigan’s skull in smoke-filled tents of whimsy and wonder in the Dreamscape Bazaar, to always pay attention to what the client reacted to and capitalize it on reckless abandon. Of course, the principle was meant for fortune-telling schemes, a game that they’d tired of rather quickly, but the application was the same.

If Cantio Von Lumen wanted to hear about a demon, then Morrigan would give him a demon.

“Contrary to popular belief, not all devils or fiends are wholly evil.” Morrigan explained. “For instance, my own family line descends from a devil of the White Sand Sea… the Deathstalker, a scorpion of the sands who keeps the peace in his domain because he detests fighting. Among my people, he was once known as the Judge, the Great Neutralizer, an entity that allowed honest merchants safe passage while attacking bandits. We used to leave behind a trail of coins when we passed his lands in offering.” Was any of that true? Morrigan themselves had no clue, but they’d heard the story plenty of times from members of their caravan in their youth.

Something Morrigan had not thought of in a long time.

But the story might interest Cantio Von Lumen, and add a little bit of credibility to their story as they changed topics back to this entirely fake demon that in no way actually existed. “This particular demon was much the same. As far as I could tell in my research, he held a grudge against the gods, and thought he could do better than them. Such pride led to altruistic acts in an attempt to one-up them, including his partnership with Al’Aethair’s king. He did much good through his long lifespan, including improving city infrastructure and welfare. But he was not satisfied simply improving Al’Aethair.”

This, a partial truth - in their initial scouting of the city, Morrigan had found records of initiatives for city planning improvements, all signed by a single messy name they could not recognize. Perhaps it was not a demon that had improved Al’Aethair, but someone had played a guiding hand to its success before the fall. Apparently, whoever it was hadn’t done a good job of it, considering it had fallen so easily during the collapse.

“Oh, I couldn’t say what kind of spell it was.” Morrigan said in reply to Cantio Von Lumen’s query. “I could make educated guesses, but records of magic from before the Collapse are complicated and difficult to read. But that is something the two of us will discover together, no?” He looked properly excited at the prospect of finding such a scroll, despite the fear that might have gripped him investigating the old ruins of that spire… and whatever horrors might lie inside.

Not that Morrigan expected anything to be in there, after all. Everything in this place had been dead for so long that it was a ghost town. There was no way in hell that they would run into anything actually dangerous, and if they did…

Well, Morrigan always had spare bombs stashed away in their bag for an easy escape.

If Cantio Von Lumen really was as talented with magic as Morrigan thought, then he’d have no trouble at all saving himself from any kind of unlikely situation, yeah?

Gods, though, it was so sweet it was almost endearing listening to Cantio talk about possibly using the scroll for good. World peace was a cute goal, but considering the shit state of things, Morrigan doubted such a thing would actually be possible. And if it was, they had no doubt that if Cantio Von Lumen brought such a thing to the Mage’s Guild, it would be locked away where it would never be seen again, left to rot while the mages offered temporary solutions to problems, coveting true power all the while.

Morrigan was doing Cantio Von Lumen a favor, really, if you thought about it. Squashing naive hopes with fake biscuit recipes and honeyed words before they came to fruition. He couldn’t learn how horrible the world truly was if there was no scroll for world peace in the first place.

They patted him gently on the shoulder. The two had come closer to the spiral, enough so that they had to crane their necks to get a better look at the spiraling tower. Morrigan turned to Cantio, expression suddenly grave. “If it is possible, you’re about to make the discovery of a lifetime. And of all the adventurers I’ve met in my travels, Cantio Von Lumen… if any of them were capable of harnessing its power to save the world, it would be you. Now, are you ready to brave perils and dangers to find out?”