Old Scroll

    A ghostly and starry patterned navy blue bat walks along the  halls of an unfamiliar place, filled with dated paintings and ancient  relics of long ago, things only faintly remembered. Pictures of  Celestials, items found throughout the aetheneum, and other long  forgotten species of Stygian. Even these things called a Bookwyrm are  posted of with large ear wings and feathers with serpent like bodies.  The walls covered in greys and the rest of the room and others very  monochrome in look through out. 

    Now,  back to Nebula, slowly walking the halls on their hind legs, brushing  their claws lightly against each wall they pass. And it seems like, with  each hallway they pass it just seems to become more and more eerie,  paintings beginning to drip and change. Revealing eyes that weren’t  there before as voices begin to stir. Murmuring about remembering them,  telling the history of this place, the history of the species itself,  talking of a millennia past. Telling the story of no one and now again,  someone, or rather many. 

    The  further Nebula goes the louder the voice becomes, violent at the  beginning and still so for a while longer, even knowing that they will  not disappear from being completely forgotten. Only asking to be  worshiped as they should, given offerings and prayers. Yet, even so  constantly asking, “why were we forgotten” crying to be known, to be in  the hearts of others since the deserve to be known, telling of giving  their everything yet still being left behind to become nothing. And yet,  with a single flicker they calm down, their hopes being fulfilled.