Death leaves its mark on the world. You feel it around graveyards, mausoleums and on the remnants of ancient battlefields that claimed hundreds of lives. It’s a pressure that presses against the air and weighs you down. Here the air is crushing, I feel myself being dragged to the floor by the grief and the rage attached to these bones.
Xikotal, Imaru’s mate, lies here dead and gone. His soul long since passed to the Afterlife, leaving Imaru alone and angry. Perhaps he was lucky to pass before seeing his mate like this. See the monster she has become since her death.
Still, this grief makes a powerful fetter. A thread of connection strong enough to forge a seal. I’ll lay it here, in this vault, protected from the dead by the dragonkin guardians. Hopefully that will keep it safe enough that no one can set this dread dragon free.