Gwendolyn let the darkness envelop her. As far as she knew, no-one had set foot in the cavern for many thousands of years until she found the place, following the lines of power that converged upon it, and discovered the ruins hidden below the forest.
Clumps of luminescent fungus pooled on the floor, their bluish light giving the cavern a strange underwater feel. They picked out the angular carvings that spelled out a language long-dead, the tongue of a civilisation that had fallen so completely in aeons past that pockets of ruins like this were all that remained. Statues worn smooth with age lined the tunnel that led to the ritual cave, so eroded they looked more like stalagmites than images of a long-lost people.
Gwendolyn loved the place. It was hidden, and it was hers. Ever since her
