Leon stared at the open tomb with great apprehension.  What was visible was little more than a rough stone staircase descending into the earth, but the walls around the stairs were so heavily warded that he couldn’t sense anything beyond the threshold.

Turning back to Sar, he hesitantly asked, “You… want me to go down there?”

“No,” Sar replied, offering no elaboration.

Leon frowned as he slowly paced around Sar, who appeared not at all fazed by Leon’s reaction.

“I would ask you to speak plainly.”

Sar remained quiet for just long enough to stoke Leon’s annoyance, but he eventually replied, “Our tombs are sacred.  I don’t want you down there.  But you have been invited, and I cannot deny that.  If you wish for my Tribe’s support, then you will find it down there.”

“Invited by whom?” Leon slowly asked, his already fairly deep concern growing within him.

Sar glanced at him but didn’t reply.

Loen sighed and asked, “Was the invitation just for me, or can I bring others with me?”

Sar closed his eyes and cocked his head as if listening to something.  After a moment, he said, “Two are permitted to accompany you.”

Leon hadn’t been able to sense any hints of magic at all being used, raising his curiosity to match his concern.  He gave the tomb a long, searching look, but after neither seeing nor sensing anything, he said, “Any other restrictions I should know about?”

“Don’t touch anything down there,” Sar said.  “My Ancestors sleep restlessly enough without their belongings being looted.”

Leon took a deep, steadying breath and said, “Fair enough.  Fair enough.  I’ll be right back.”

He strode out of the pavilion and over a ways to where the rest of his people were waiting for him.

“So?” Ipatameni asked.  “What’s the word?”

“Not good by the looks of it,” the Jaguar responded.

“We can’t all be as trusting as your Tribe,” Xanthippe replied.  “It takes more than just a bit of ancient power for the rest of us to declare a King.”

“That’s rich coming from a Lion,” the Jaguar responded.

“We didn’t sell ourselves for just a bit of power,” Xanthippe said as she turned her eyes back to Leon.  “We sold ourselves for a lot of power!”

“Sure,” Leon said noncommittally.  “I’ve been given the price for winning the Harts to our side.  It seems simple but I can’t imagine it will be.”

Leon quickly informed them of what Sar wanted him to do, but he kept some of his quieter thoughts to himself.

“… Are you going to go along with this?” Singer-in-Caves quietly asked when Leon finished his quick explanation.

“Yes,” Leon immediately replied.

“As well you should,” Ipatameni concurred.  “The Harts take these kinds of things very seriously.  That Sar made this demand at all speaks volumes about the gravity with which his Tribe is taking these matters.  To ask for any alternative would be to render grave insult.”

“They’ve been ‘insulted’ before,” Xanthippe replied with a dismissive wave of her hand.  “They’ve always gotten over it.”

“This time they have an alternative,” Ipatameni shot back.  “We want them on our side, not throw their strength and their votes behind the Thunderer!”

Xanthippe scowled but didn’t respond.

“I’m going down there,” Leon firmly declared, cutting off any further discussion.  “I’ve done as all of you have asked when seeking your support, I will now extend the same courtesy to the Ancestral Harts.”

“Who will you be taking?” the Jaguar asked as he stepped forward, subtly flexing his aura in clear desire.

“Not you,” Xanthippe said.  “Our King will need strength down there, won’t he?”  She did more than just flex her aura; she let it spill from her body so thickly that even Leon could feel some of its pressure.

Leon quickly pushed back and though she initially seemed like she was going to resist, she appeared to think better of it and retracted her aura, though she didn’t seem at all put out by it.  The others around them who weren’t of the ninth-tier looked relieved when she did back down, though.

Leon then cast his gaze about his followers.  One hundred Tempest Knights, but they were new and untested, and he didn’t want to test any of them, not even his captains, down in the tomb.  Given Sar’s attitude, he felt like taking any other tribesmen down there would also be taken poorly even if it wasn’t expressly forbidden.  Cassandra was likewise out for the stronger reason that Sar still seemed to consider her an enemy even if he wasn’t acting on that.

That left most of Leon’s retainers.  Red was out for the risk of her trashing the place.  Alix and Alcander were leading the Tempest Knights and he didn’t want to take either of them away.  Anna had her war beasts to look after, and Leon didn’t want them down in the tomb for the same reason that he didn’t want Red down there.  So, that left Anshu, Anzu, Gaius, Marcus, Maia, and Valeria.

He felt like he could trust all of them, even Anshu, but he didn’t know what he might find down in the tomb.  If violence were to break out, Maia and Valeria would probably be his two best bets.  However, he didn’t think he’d face anything particularly violent down in the tomb where the Harts’ most honored dead had been laid to rest.

‘I need people who are good at speaking,’ Leon mused.  ‘Loyal and socially competent.’

He realized then that of those five, only two fit his needs.

“Marcus and Gaius, will you two follow me down there?” he asked.

He endured some questioning and almost disbelieving looks from some of his people, while others made faces or noises of disappointment.

“I’m in,” Marcus confidently said after only a moment’s pause.  He stepped forward and Leon smiled and clapped him on the shoulder in gratitude.

Gaius took a moment to think and turned his eyes toward the tomb.  After that moment, he turned back to Leon and said, “I am as well.”

Leon’s smile grew wider and he clasped Gaius’ wrist to express his thanks.

[Are you sure about that selection?] Maia asked.  She looked and sounded just a little put-out, and when Leon glanced at the rest of his people—Valeria and Anzu in particular—they all looked some degree of disappointed.

[I would go with you,] Maia told him, and her lake-blue eyes were nothing if not deadly serious.

[I love you,] Leon mentally replied.

Aloud, he said, “I don’t know what I’m going to face down there.  I would trust all of you with my life, and more.  I know that all of you would be a good choice to take down there.”  He made eye contact with Valeria.  “Keep an eye on everyone.  You have the retinue until I get back.”

Valeria seemed about as upset as Maia but she took a deep breath and nodded.  “I trust you,” she said, but her tone spoke of deeper feelings than just trust.

Leon then turned back to Maia, still staring at him impatiently.

[I have been absent from my mate’s side long enough,] she growled.

[You have been with me this entire time,] Leon responded.

[And I’ve been absent from you long enough,] she insisted.

Leon sighed.  [I agree.  But please just wait for me up here.  I’ll be encouraged knowing that you’re safe.  And that if I don’t come out, you’ll flood this entire island.]

Maia continued frowning and didn’t respond for a long moment.  When she did, she silently spoke in a resigned tone, her words coming with a flood of loving feelings through their connection.  [I’ll do more than that.  If you die down there, I’ll destroy this whole plane.]

Loen smiled at her and sent his love back, letting his feelings speak for themselves.  Then, he turned to Gaius and Marcus.  “You two ready?” he asked.  “I don’t think Sar’s going to enjoy holding that door open much longer…”

“I don’t like the underground,” Marcus said, “but I’m ready for this.  I won’t let you down this time.”

Leon cocked an eyebrow at him as Gaius added, “Our last experience down in an ancient temple isn’t one I’d like to repeat, but I’ll be anywhere you need me to be.”

“Thank you,” Leon said to them both, hoping his heartfelt statement came off as he intended it to.  “Now, let’s get going.”

Leon exchanged a few parting words with the remainder of his party.  His Tempest Knights seemed more than willing to accompany him despite Sar’s restriction of only two, but Leon was amused to see them back down, if reluctantly, with only a single order.  Alix and Alcander weren’t thrilled at being left behind, but they accepted their roles with grace.

The rest of Leon’s Tribal supporters were a little more vehement in their desire to accompany him, and he took comfort in that.  In the end, though, he got them all to back down, and not long after leaving the pavilion, he returned to find Sar still sitting where he had been, looking for all the world like a statue for how little he moved, his brown eyes staring down into the dark depths of the tomb.  As he walked over, Marcus and Gaius both donned their armor, though Leon remained clad in only his clothes.

Leon paused next to Sar and waited for the man to speak.  When he didn’t, Leon took a step toward the tomb, and then another, moving at a snail’s pace with Marcus and Gaius only a step behind him, giving Sar every opportunity to take back the invitation.

No such rescindment came; Leon stepped over the tomb’s threshold without so much as a word from Sar.  Gaius and Marcus strode in after him, their footsteps certain.  But as Leon began walking down the stairs, the tomb door began to close behind them.  He paused and glanced back.  The door was closing slowly enough that he could’ve easily jumped back out.

But he didn’t.  He watched the massive stone door close behind them, then felt the magic in the tomb flicker as the door was locked.

This was it.  They were in until they’d finished whatever test this was meant to be.

He continued descending the stairs, not bothered at all by the darkness.  The stairs were relatively wide, but that didn’t stop Marcus from shifting uncomfortably just behind him.  As Leon recalled, Marcus wasn’t that keen on tight spaces, so he was grateful that the man was loyal enough to brave this place with him.

They descended for quite a while, the stairway not letting until they reached the bottom.  The stairs were long enough that Leon started feeling rather uncomfortable—he couldn’t fathom the reason why the tomb needed to be so far beneath the earth.  More concerningly, he still couldn’t sense anything ahead of him even though he was now inside the structure.

But they did eventually reach the bottom, but it wasn’t quite what Leon had been expecting.  Instead of extensive catacombs, Leon stepped out into a massive underground chamber, taller than it should’ve been and wider than it possibly could be—they hadn’t descended far enough for the ceiling to be so high, at the very least.

He heard Marcus breathe a little easier, and it seemed he wasn’t the only one as Gaius asked, “Better down here, Marcus?”

“No,” Marcus replied as he adjusted his armor.  “Worse.  But in a different way…”

The cavern was pitch-black, though that didn’t stop the three from being able to see.  However, a spark of magic seemed to explode from the center of the cavern, creating enough light that all three of them were blinded for a moment.  Leon felt this explosion of magic wash over them, every element contained within it.  He didn’t sense it doing anything, but he was proven wrong when the light receded and he opened his eyes.

Where before the cavern had been immense, but empty, now it was filled with tombstones.  More notable, however, was the fact that the cavern seemed to have grown far more than seemed possible, even by the greatest of magics.  Leon now found himself standing in the center of a graveyard of terrible size, extending outward for miles upon miles, packed with the headstones of countless Harts of times long past.

Marcus swore under his breath as he conjured his thunder wood bow.  Gaius didn’t verbalize his surprise, but he, too, pulled his sword out of his soul realm.

“Stairs are gone,” Marcus said.

Leon glanced back and saw that their exit had disappeared.

“So be it,” he growled.  “I wasn’t going to leave until we finished what we came here for, anyway.”

There was a silent pause before Gaius replied, “Figured as much.  I’m with you until the end.”

Marcus sighed.  “Same here.”

“Any idea of where to go?” Gaius asked.

“Is there anywhere to go?” Marcus responded.

Leon wasn’t sure there was as he couldn’t see or sense anything within the cavern other than the sheer terrifying number of graves.

‘Billions must be buried here,’ he noted, wondering just how that was possible.  Eighty-thousand years was a long time, to be sure, but to have so many down in this tomb was hard enough to believe even if Sar hadn’t said it was only for their most honored dead.

“Oh, by the Ancestors!” a voice cried out.  Old and wheezy though it was, Leon and his retainers spun to face its source, Gaius and Marcus both brandishing their weapons.

What greeted them was what seemed to be a grave tender, an old man in roughly-spun robes caked in dirt leaning on a sturdy-looking walking stick, only a few wispy silver hairs sprouting from his scalp, his face hollowed and wrinkled by age.  He seemed like he would’ve been a swarthy man, but he must’ve spent a considerable amount of time beneath the earth for his skin was practically stone gray.

What caught Leon’s attention, however, was the fact that his aura seemed mortal.  Immediately he knew something was wrong, for to reach the first-tier of magic, all a person had to do was breathe in magic power, and he could sense a fair amount down here even beyond the obvious.  One’s lungs, after breathing in enough magic power, would adapt to it, absorbing it into a mage’s blood.  That adaptation was what made a first-tier mage.  Mages would perform breathing exercises to ensure adaptation when young, but everyone—if they lived long enough—would reach the first-tier if they were lucky enough to reach old age even without training.

An old man apparently without a shred of magic within him raised many of Leon’s alarm bells.

“Who are you?” Leon asked in as pleasant a tone as he could muster.

“I could ask you the same, young’un,” the man rasped.  “This ‘ere is my yard, it’s you who be trespassin’ without an invite!”

“That’s redundant,” Marcus said as he relaxed.  “Trespassing is, by definition, done without an invitation.”

“Yer the grammar keeper then, are ye?” the man spat as he pushed himself off his walking stick and used it to rap Marcus’ helmet.  “Ye should respect yer elders!  Young bucks these days ain’t got the slightest respect, I tells ye…”

“We were invited down into this tomb,” Leon said, hoping to cut through whatever this was turning into and get them back on track.  “Sar, Lawspeaker for the Hart Tribe opened the door for us.”

“Eh?” the man croaked.  “Well if that’s the case, then see to yer business and be off with ye!  I got graves to keep!”

The man was about to turn around when Leon responded, “If it’s not too much to ask, elder, I was given the impression that this is where the Ancestors of the Hart Tribe have been interred after performing heroic deeds.  Might you show us around?”

“This ain’t a place fer tourists, kid,” the man dismissively responded.  “Look around yerself.”

“If you come with us,” Gaius said, “wouldn’t it be easier to make sure we don’t break anything?”

He gave the grave tender a wide, toothless smile, and the man glared back at him.  “Ye be threatenin’ this place, sonny?”

 “We’re not intending on doing anything, we only want to pay our respects to the honored dead.”

Leon, thinking he knew what Gaius was getting at, said, “Indeed.  But I can’t imagine how you might be able to trust us running around such a sacred place.  If you could accompany us, perhaps even show us where the best places to pay our respects might be, then you can be assured that we’ll finish up and be on our way as quickly as possible.”

The man looked from Leon to Gaius, to Marcus, and then back to Leon.

“Ye trespassers beggin’ for a tour, never woulda thought I’da seen it…”

The man glared at them for a long moment before sighing and saying, “Fine.  I’ll show ye where to go.  Then ye can be on yer business and get the fuck outta here…”

The man pushed past them and Leon just about did a double take, for right behind them—where he knew one absolutely hadn’t been before—was a paved path cutting through the graveyard and vanishing into the distance.

“That’s a neat trick,” Marcus whispered.  Speaking a little louder, he asked as the three of them fell into line behind the man, “How did you make this?”

“Eh?” the man replied, seeming confused for a moment about what Marcus was asking about.  “Ah, the path, eh?  They’re all over this place, ye just gotta know how to see ‘em!”

“Interesting,” Leon responded.  “But we only just got here, so the road had to make itself known only when you decided to lead us to wherever it leads…”

“Ye like thinkin’ ‘bout things, do ye?” the man grumbled.  “Lots’o things running ‘round yer head, eh?  Too much, maybe?”

“Or not enough,” Leon cheekily replied.  “Where are we going, by the by?”

“Where ye said ye wanted to go,” the man said in an almost disbelieving tone, as if wondering why Leon was even asking.  “Ye wanted to pay your respects to the most honored Ancestors of the Harts, didn’t ‘cha?”

“Aye, that we did,” Leon said with a light frown.

“Well then, do so,” the man said as he came to a halt.  To their right appeared an empty field that certainly hadn’t been there a moment ago in which no graves had been made.  “Go on in, then!  Go on, git!”  He used his walking stick to slap their backs and try to force them off the path.  All three of them gave him dirty looks, but nothing stronger than that.

“Thanks,” Leon said without much certainty as he led his people off the path and into the field.  “Is there anything else we need—” he began, but when he glanced back at the man, he found that he and the path had vanished, leaving nothing but more graves behind where they had once stood.

“That’s downright unsettling,” Marcus whispered.

“Is there something about our resting place that unsettles you, child?” a smooth baritone voice asked.

Spinning around again, Leon found him and his retainers staring at another man, this one appearing only a little younger than the grave tender, but much fuller in body.  He wasn’t quite rippling with muscle, but he was close, and his bronze skin looked much healthier than the tender’s had.

“Hard not to be unsettled when surrounded by so much death,” Marcus replied.

The man smiled and chuckled softly.  “I suppose that’s true.  I thought much the same when I first came down here to commune with the spirits of my Ancestors.  But now I’ve joined them, and I’ve found that down here, I’m never alone…”

For just a moment, as the man finished speaking, Leon thought he saw an unfathomably large crowd around them, all staring directly at him, but he blinked and they were gone.

“Now,” the newcomer said, “what brings you down here, to the land of the dead?”

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