Ancient

The golden vastness of the desert spread out endlessly before Montu, each grain shimmering under the glare of the sun. Yet, as he walked deeper into this particular region, something felt off. While the sands had always been his companion — predictable in their unpredictable ways — these dunes felt different, shifting in patterns unfamiliar to him. A sense of unease settled in his chest, as the shifting sea of sand he considered a parent seemed to be keeping secrets of its own.

Montu’s feet crunched softly against the sun-baked sand, each step sinking slightly before being immediately swallowed up again by the desert's ceaseless movement. Beside him, Moku, his loyal pet Mekki, kept pace. Her lithe form moved effortlessly across the grains, her blue antennae dancing gracefully in the wind as she wove to and fro around him. Every so often, she'd let out a soft chirp, her own form of communication with the desert she had come to know.

Despite the relentless sun overhead, Montu felt cool. His unique water-imbued powers acted like a protective barrier, keeping both himself and Moku refreshed and safe from the desert’s scorching embrace. The plants he had foraged earlier that day, combined with his deep understanding of their properties, ensured that dehydration and sunburn remained distant threats.

The unease grew as the day wore on. The sand beneath Montu’s feet was more restless, shifting and churning with an energy he couldn’t quite understand. The dunes seemed to whisper, their soft rustling voices carrying tales older than time. Moku, sensing his discomfort, stayed close, her antenna touching him reassuringly.

As the sun began its descent, casting elongated shadows that danced across the sand, an anomaly appeared before them: a structure, or rather the hint of one, semi-buried beneath the desert's embrace. The barely visible entrance was marked with ancient symbols that seemed to pulse with a quiet energy.

Drawn to it, Montu approached, brushing away the sands to reveal more of the mysterious entryway. Beneath the sands, a plaque with ancient writings came into view. He recognized the symbols for "time" and "sanctuary." His heart raced — was this an ancient relic connected to tales of the past? Quizzitive, Montu arched an eyebrow to Moku. His knowledge of old Gaidinian was limited, much like the rest of the world. Unlike the vast storage of ancient texts in Aditone he’d only gotten bits and pieces from scrolls that he’d acquired through trade.

Montu’s fingers traced the engraved symbols on the plaque, the texture of the cold stone contrasting with the warmth of the surrounding sand. Moku's antennae twitched faintly, reflecting her intrigue as she observed the ancient writings. With a chirp, she pointed towards a dimly lit pathway leading deeper into the ruins.

The air within was cool and stagnant, hinting at centuries of undisturbed rest. The walls of the tunnel bore intricate murals depicting scenes from an age long forgotten. There were images of people, much like Montu, wielding ancient elemental powers, and creatures that bore a striking resemblance to Moku. They were depicted as companions and guardians, protectors of these ancient people. Swirling, ambiguous images stood proud in the background. They didn’t appear to be any of the major, or minor deities that Montu was familiar with. Had he stumbled across a temple to one of the fabled old gods?

Navigating the passages, Montu and Moku soon found themselves in a grand chamber, its ceiling lost to darkness. Stalactites hung, catching the dim light, and a faint echo rang out with every step. At the chamber's center stood a stone pedestal with a beautifully crafted crystal vial containing a shimmering liquid. Surrounding it were inscriptions, and among them, none of the ornate, flowing symbols of the ancient Gaidinian language were recognisable to Montu. The inscriptions around the crystal vial seemed to pulse with a luminescence that wasn’t there a moment before. Montu, filled with an overwhelming curiosity, crouched closer. He could feel the age of the words beneath his fingers, the wisdom and tales they held. Moku chirped softly beside him, her antenna glowing, a reaction Montu had never seen before.

The walls of the temple began to shimmer, and the once-static images came to life in an enchanting dance of ethereal light. They ebbed and flowed with an otherworldly grace, each image recounting tales from eras long past. Glistening particles of what seemed like stardust began to whirl around the murals, illuminating them with an enchanting life.

Montu could see the birth of Gaidinia, a vivid ballad of creation, where the very threads of existence were woven together by the arcane magic. This ancient force pulsated with an energy both beautiful and terrifying, painting the temple walls with its mystique. The birth of the Old Gods unfolded before his eyes, their forms emerging from this primordial magic like phoenixes rising, mighty and formidable.

He was then drawn into the depths of the mural's story, witnessing the unbridled power of the Old Gods. Their dominance over the rapidly growing realm of Gaidinia played out in painstaking detail. The once benevolent and guiding magic now took on a more sinister tone, manipulated and twisted by these newfound deities. Montu felt a pang in his heart as he observed the evolving inhabitants of Gaidinia being subjugated, their spirits oppressed by the mighty, unfettered powers of the Old Gods. Their cries, their struggles, and their hopes were all etched into the very stone, brought to life by the magic of this ancient temple.

He watched, utterly entranced, the walls no longer mere stones but a living testament to the ages gone by. The murals pulsed with the collective memory of Gaidinia, encapsulating both its glory and its suffering. Montu felt a deep connection, a timeless bond with the stories unfurling around him, as the temple continued its ethereal narration of history.

The scene then shifted to the emergence of Eiros and Zana, those blessed spirits, and their gathering of the New Gods. The rebellion, the conflicts, and the eventual triumph over the Old Gods played out. Montu felt an emotional rush, seeing the sacrifice, determination, and reward of those that sought to free Gaidinia from its Age of Darkness.

But then, the murals went further back. Before the Old Gods. Before the ancient magic. They displayed the creation of Gaidinia itself, and there, at the center, was a figure more majestic and powerful than any Montu had ever seen. It was an indistinct silhouette, radiating pure energy. This, he realized, was the representation of The Main One.

Moku chirped, drawing Montu's attention back to the vial. It seemed to beckon him. With a deep breath, he reached out and gently held the vial. A surge of energy coursed through him. Memories, feelings, and knowledge not his own filled his mind. He saw the love and care The Main One had for Gaidinia, the reason behind creating the deities, giving life, and the ultimate goal of ensuring balance in the world. It was a glimpse into the cosmic plan of The Main One, the vision he had for Gaidinia and its inhabitants.

Carefully placing the vial back onto its pedestal, Montu took a deep, shuddering breath, his chest tight with emotion. Every fiber of his being quivered as the ancient tales unfolded before him, reconnecting him to a past he'd only ever heard of in whispered legends. The sheer magnitude of Gaidinia's history, with all its pain, beauty, and mysticism, welled up inside him. His eyes shimmered with unshed tears, not from sadness, but from a profound reverence for the journey of his ancestors and their sacred homeland. The chamber didn’t just record history; for Montu, it evoked an overwhelming bridge to times long gone, filling the void of forgotten tales within him.

Moku's antennae vibrated with palpable energy, their usually vibrant blue now subdued, overshadowed by the radiant aura of the temple's ancient magic. They swayed like delicate reeds caught in a corporeal breeze, each movement echoing the depth of Moku's emotions. Just as Montu was wrapped up in the awe of their discovery, so too was Moku, her every gesture reflecting an unspoken understanding of the moment's gravity. Together, they stood on the precipice of the past, having unveiled a cornerstone of Gaidinia's rich history. This newfound knowledge deepened their bond to the world they held so dear, reminding them of the intricate weave of history, magic, and destiny that shaped their homeland.

Emerging from the chamber, an oppressive heaviness settled on Montu's chest. The intricate carvings and vibrant paintings that had danced with life under the temple's spell were now starting to fade, their once brilliant hues dulling as the ancient magic slipped back into dormancy. Every detail, every stroke of artistry, was a testament to Gaidinia's legacy, and Montu felt torn between the urge to broadcast this knowledge and the need to protect the sanctity of the temple.

Could he truly share this with the world? The temple depicted tales and truths already embedded in the collective memory of Gaidinians, yet witnessing them firsthand lent a profound depth to the narratives. But he also wrestled with the knowledge that the insatiable desert, with its shifting, unpredictable nature, might soon envelope the temple's mysteries once again.

Montu's eyes lingered on the receding artwork. Each figure, each depiction, seemed to echo the boundless love and care The Main One held for Gaidinia. With Moku's supportive presence and the silent blessing of The Main One enveloping him, Montu steeled himself for the path ahead, ready to confront the complexities of sharing or safeguarding Gaidinia's sacred legacy.

The vastness of the desert greeted Montu and Moku once again as they left the temple behind, its entrance slowly becoming a mere silhouette against the horizon. With each step away from that hallowed place, thoughts swirled like the sands around him. He was reminded of the traders' insatiable hunger for treasure and the intoxicating allure of wealth. The knowledge held within that temple was invaluable, and in the wrong hands, its sanctity could be exploited and its truths distorted for personal gain.

Montu remembered the times he had traded with them, their sly glances, and the sharpness of their haggling. The desert was a vast expanse, and its sands hid many secrets, but the allure of treasure was something most traders couldn't resist. The temple, with its profound revelations, could easily become a pawn in their greedy games.

Despite the weight of his newfound responsibility, Montu also recognized the realities of his own position in Gaidinian society. To many, he was nothing more than an outcast, a man wandering the fringes of the desert with an unusual Mekki as his only companion. How many would take his words seriously? Even if they did, how many would be motivated by genuine reverence and not by avarice?

He knew that to truly protect and share the temple's secrets, he needed someone of unquestionable reputation. Someone who wouldn't be swayed by greed and who had the influence to ensure the temple's sanctity. But finding that person would be a challenge of its own.

As days melted into weeks and weeks into months, Montu made it his mission to commit the temple's location to memory. He would periodically return, tracing his steps through the shifting sands, always marveling at the magical spectacle replaying Gaidinia's ancient story. Each visit deepened his connection to the temple and his understanding of its teachings.

Montu approached the bustling trading posts of Gaidinia with trepidation, his discomfort with socializing in these hubs evident in the tense way he held himself. The chattering crowds, the aggressive haggling, and the overwhelming mix of scents and sounds made him feel distinctly out of place. But his purpose was clear, and he wouldn't let his discomfort deter him.

He would wander to the stalls at the peripheries first, often the quieter ones where fewer people congregated. There, he searched meticulously for parchment that had the right balance of texture and thickness, quills that appeared sturdy yet delicate, and ink that promised longevity. Every time he had to interact with a seller, he would keep his words minimal, his exchanges brief. The traders often gave him puzzled or even disdainful looks, sensing his unease, but his Sea Witch Bounties were as good as any others.

Eavesdropping became his primary method of gathering information. Montu would find a less conspicuous spot, often behind a stack of goods or in a shadowed corner, where he could listen to travelers and merchants share their stories without drawing attention to himself. Every once in a while, when he heard a particularly enticing snippet about Gaidinia's forgotten history, he'd gather the courage to approach the storyteller. Offering a small token or hinting at a potentially valuable trade route he'd discovered, he'd attempt to coax out more of their story. Many were suspicious of him, but the allure of what he had to offer occasionally won them over.

With Moku steadfastly beside him, Montu delved deeper into a quest that transcended mere exploration; it was a pilgrimage of self-realization and purpose within the grand, epic poem of Gaidinia. The road ahead shimmered with uncertainty and uncharted turns. While he ardently sought to preserve, understand, and one day disseminate the hallowed legacy of Gaidinia, he remained oblivious to the hand of destiny. It would, in due time, guide him to Seraphina — a beacon of hope and influence — whom he'd not only rescue from the jaws of peril but would come to regard with profound esteem, if not more. Together, they would ensure that the ancient temple's knowledge would be a gift to all of Gaidinia, unfettered by time's decay or the greed of men.