“Beyond here, I can offer no guidance. This area was not open to us.”
“So does that mean that it used to be sealed off? Like, there was some gate across the opening or a giant boulder rolled in front of it?”
“No. But there was always someone standing guard to keep people out.”
The entrance to the cave and the stairway leading down to it looked the same as they had during her training. The only changes were the lack of a sentry and a faint light that seemed to emanate from the depths of the cavern. The survey team must have taken lights to set up along the way.
“So anyone who could get past the guard could just go right in?”
“Of course not. It was strictly forbidden. The cavern was not to be defiled by mortal hands.”
“But didn’t it being off-limits just make you that much more curious?”
“Among the citizens of Tenebrae, I doubt you would find many whose curiosity outweighed their respect for sacred ground.”
Even Lunafreya could admit to the possibility of visitors with untoward intentions, who might have taken an opportunity to sack the ruins if one presented itself. But at the time, at least, sentries had proven sufficient to keep the cavern unsullied.
“In any case, let us make haste,” she said. “We cannot afford to waste any more time.”
The stairway leading down was narrow, which perhaps made the cavern seem all the more vast. The ceiling was so high as to make their voices echo eerily. Large piles of stone rubble littered the ground. They were clearly not the product of explosives meant for any survey. Great sections of the cavern walls had been blasted or torn away.
“Is this the work of a daemon?”
“Probably. Seems about what you’d expect from some giant daemon-powered magitek monster.”
“The creation that waylaid the survey team?”
“Right. They call it Sapphire Weapon. Supposed to be a real tough customer.”
According to Sol, it was yet another juggernaut developed by the Niflheim Empire. After its manufacture at a nearby research facility, it had presumably been sealed away in this cavern. Or the cavern may have been intended as a location for its first experimental activation. “Or there was some other screwed-up reason we’ll never understand,” Sol concluded.
The underground cavern was certainly large enough to serve as a testing space. But Sapphire Weapon was a variation of the armor used in the destruction of Insomnia. Diamond Weapon had toppled skyscrapers with ease. If a creation of similar magnitude had indeed been allowed to move about down here, it seemed nothing short of a miracle that the cavern itself had not collapsed.
“Still, it didn’t have to go and open up huge holes in the place,” Sol muttered, staring at a remarkably large depression in one wall. It might have been the result of some massive punch or kick. In any case, the result spoke for itself in terms of the sheer power behind whatever created it.
“Hey, come take a look at this.”
Lunafreya looked over to find Sol peering into the depths of the hole. At a glance, it seemed to be just another element of the cavern wall, but as Lunafreya drew closer, she saw what Sol had noticed.
“It looks like something’s buried back there,” Sol said.
Lunafreya squinted. To Sol’s human eyes, they were likely only vague shapes, but for Lunafreya, more accustomed to the dark, the outlines were clear. Weapons. A spear and a sword. And it looked like there might be more buried farther back.
“Why are these here?” she wondered aloud.
“What is it? What do you see?” Sol asked.
Lunafreya was unable to answer at first. The spear and sword were of unusually large size. So large that not even the empire’s magitek creations would be able to wield them, let alone a human. The owner of these two weapons therefore must have been neither human nor daemon. They had in all likelihood belonged to one of the Messengers. If she had to guess, Odin.
When Lunafreya finally answered, she said, “Weapons, I believe. Ones that would have been used in the Great War of Old.”
“What, you mean like the War of the Astrals? I thought that was just a story.”
“It most certainly is not. The war truly happened. I have heard accounts of it from the Messengers.”
Long ago, man had received the gift of fire, along with knowledge divine. Both had been bestowed by Ifrit, the Infernian. And with those gifts, man built a great and advanced civilization: Solheim. But the mortals grew arrogant. They turned against the god who had helped them to thrive and sought to drive him away. The Pyreburner, enraged, desired to put an end to mankind. This conflict between god and man would grow into a battle among the gods themselves, when first Shiva, the Glacian, and then the others intervened to safeguard the mortals.
In time, Bahamut, the Draconian, tired of the conflict, both of man against god and among the gods themselves. The Bladekeeper, inhabitant of the heavens and among the Six standing apart, attempted to bring an end not only to mankind but to the Star and the five gods who resided upon it. So great was his power that his ends were almost accomplished.
Four of the Six―Titan, Ramuh, Leviathan, and Shiva―defended against the Draconian’s blow, and the Star and its people were safe. In the end, all members of the Six retired in exhaustion, and the war ended with no clear victor or resolution.
“That’s a lot different from the version I grew up hearing,” Sol said, her head tilted to one side, as Lunafreya finished recounting the details.
“Much about the Great War of Old has been lost to time. Few today know its details.”
When Lunafreya was young, she had constantly begged Gentiana to tell her stories of the gods. Ravus, her elder brother, had shown no interest, but Lunafreya loved to listen to Gentiana talk.
“The Great War of Old stemmed from mankind’s rebellion against the divine. It is not a tale to pass down with pride.”
“Right. I get it. It’s the kind of thing people want to bury.”
Lunafreya did not know who first labored to see the story covered up. The truth of Solheim’s conceit would have appealed neither to Niflheim, seeking to return the glories of Solheim to the world, nor to Lucis, wardens of the divine gifts of Crystal and ring.
Whichever side was behind the cover-up, it had clearly made use of the natural hiding space afforded by this cavern deep underground. They’d buried away the unhappy relics of the war, then proclaimed the cave a holy site and constructed a place of worship above it, thereby discouraging unwanted exploration.