Soft rain drizzled down from the heavens, a thin veil that dampened and cooled the world below. Clouds hung solemnly above, still thin enough that sunlight filtered between the cracks in the cloudscape. The grass bent heavily under the weight of water, while the remnants of stone structures were now slick and dark from the humidity. A flock of birds flew eastward, seeking warmer climates once more. Migratory animals rarely stayed in Illiserev, and with the autumnal rain ushering a northern chill, such a gentle drizzle would turn into thin sheets of ice overnight, grass turned white with frost.

For now, however, the heavens were nothing if not gentle in its treatment of the area surrounding the overgrown ruins. Located deep in the sparse evergreen forests of Illiserev, it may have been an ancient settlement of some sort, merely a day or two’s worth of travel away from the point where all three nations connect. Dark green moss masked toppled-over blocks of stone, hieroglyphic inscriptions barely visible after centuries of erosion. In the violent cycle of seasons that the eastern monarchy went through, few things stood the test of time.

But that simply made what remained all that more precious.

A gloved hand brushed against the inscriptions, yellow eyes pouring over the forgotten language. He could feel it here. Another convergence of power, another opening towards [i]her[/i] realm. But still, much too unstable, much too small. Arcane lights traced those symbols, before lifting off the wall and landing in the palm of his hands. Like snow, they melted into the glove, before he clenched his fist. Another drop of knowledge distilled, another piece of his plan falling into place.

He closed his eyes, senses reaching far beyond the veil.

His hand grasped against an unseen handle.

A thousand forgotten words sprang out of his grip, as a voice not his own resounded throughout the ruins.

[center][i]Art I humanity?
Art I savagery?
Art I divinity?
Nay, I am of the Key.
The Key of the Fragmented[/i].[/center]

The handle was cold against his grasp, but he did not pull the gate open for his part was done.

An unlocked door was enough incentive for the Hunters to seek their Master once more.