The Temple of the Lost
Silence…almost deafening in this temple, the darkness all consuming within the seemingly hollow room. Suddenly, as if triggered by those present, a soft purple glow spreads from the center of the shrine. As eyes adjust to the change, the source of the dim lighting is revealed as a glass-shaped eye that hovers in mid-air above the smooth, marble floor. Smooth all except for a large, charred, square patch of dirt in front of each of the four walls…odd. Above, the ceiling is open showing more of the same darkness, not a single star twinkling among the Heavens. The eastern wall is completely covered by a massive shelving unit holding books and old, faded scrolls, making one wonder as to the history of this place and the immortal that it belongs to. What mysteries lie within those readings? A large mural hangs from the Southern wall, the color so vibrant that it makes the emptiness of the room seem barren and tragic. The strong feel of magic is noticeable in this temple but its threads are chaotic… confused and constantly shifting. Symbolic of the Immortal that resides here? Perhaps.
A massive metallic shelving unit covers the Eastern wall here, filled with books and scrolls of numerous types, the surface layered with what seems like years of dust.
The weather beaten wall here is dark grey in color, a large mural hanging in front of it and softening its depressing state.
This wall is completely bare and weather beaten, the dark grey of its color seeming to suck in the dim lighting from the altar.
An open archway is cut into the center of the wall here, open and allowing for what seems like anyone to enter. Though who would wish to remain here is a question perhaps left unanswered.
Upon close inspection, the large, charred patch of dirt here is more than just that. A faint presence of fog is noticeable, its core twisting rapidly, spinning in a tiny cyclone. Faint yellow wavy lines rest in the center of the earthen patch.
Similar to the spot before the Eastern wall, this one contains a tiny flicker of flame. Faint red, wavy lines rest in the center of the earthen patch.
This large patch of charred dirt holds a small source of life; the leaves of a newborn plant sticking through the earthen surface and the brown, wavy lines that cover it.
The patch of dirt in front of the Western wall has faint blue lines carved into it, the surface of the earth moist and showing a hint of water seeping through.
The shelving unit is littered with numerous books and scrolls, the titles faded and edges torn as if they were very well read in the past. The surface of each shelf is lined with layers of dust, making one wonder as to how long it has been since they were last used.
This haunting piece portrays DarkClaw standing within a shadowed room, gazing into a floor-length mirror before her. Instead of seeing her own reflection, a black tiger stares back at her with hungry eyes, fangs bared and stained with blood. Is it symbolic? The quality of this work is of the finest, the texture of the fabric smooth as silk to the touch. Oddly enough, it looks as if it is three dimensional. Magic, perhaps?