Avere walked through a wide corridor, decorated with countless priceless treasures, freshly made and beautiful this time, instead of rusty, decaying, and oftentimes riddled with maggots as previously.
The corridor was laid out with a comfortable red and golden carpet stretching to be about thirty feet wide and a few hundred feet long, perhaps even a thousand if he was honest, decorated with various depictions of people overcoming cruelling tasks, worse the farther out they were.
Some of the people were just struggling to stand up, big stones laid atop their backs, some were just about to be crushed by a gigantic foot, some were already dead, some were striving, others were teaching, and others were learning, and yet, truly, it depicted that all would struggle.
On the wall there were indentions for countless vases each depicting someone going on an adventurer, most of the time in heavy armour, oftentimes wielding a great lance, even defeating a dragon, or something that resembles a dragon at least, in various of the vases, though that might have just been artistic freedom.
Though, there was, as Avere was just walking through the hall, his heart beating silently, his bare feet, covered by nothing this time, feeling the plush of the oh so comfortable carpet, for the first time in what felt like his whole life, savouring it as a long cloak with golden ends followed behind him, as he felt a heavy crown atop his head, carefully stitched out of countless miniscule golden threats, each of which felt as if he would be able to easily break it if he had the yearning to do so.
A proof of engineering and design as he had never seen before, a true masterpiece, though, now that he thought about it, not as impressive as that statue in that place where he had made the prosthesis, though that had turned out to be useless later on.
He wore elegant clothing, feeling weight upon his shoulders, goldened with marvellous designs once more, making him feel more important than he actually was, almost as if he was dressed as a king, or as an emperor, or simply someone very important to this place, which, in some way, perhaps he was already.
But either way, after he walked for about a minute, looking at the countless treasures all over the walls, he finally got to a huge door, at least sixty feet tall, made of thick, darkened, wood, woven with gold and silver once more, depicting a kneeling figure, wearing a crown made of silver, with eyes crying silver, their hands catching the silver and letting it pour further down where it then turned golden and was elegantly made to look as if it changed to be the carpet just a tiny bit later on, making the entire corridor filled with the tears of the kneeling person, perhaps a religious or just personal meaning, that wasn't clear to him, he just wanted to get this experience over with it.
Just like back with that Ukor-guy, there was probably not much for them to say, after all, if this was truly a king, and form all he and seen from kings, gods, and just superiors in general, he was already annoyed at the thought of having to learn from one of those abhorrent guys.
The heavy door swung open to the outside, causing Avere to take a few steps back as to not be in the way after he had walked too fast, not knowing that it would soon open by itself.
It was about two feet thick and reinforced With iron after a inch of wood, as if simply made for decoration, which also led him to believe that the main part for the length of the corridor, and it's width, might have been for defence of the person, sick and seemingly dead, lying inside the gigantic bed that took up most of the huge room that stretched to be about five-hundred feet, extending circularly into all directions, turning into a kind of tower when coming upwards.
Actually, this reminded him a lot of ehetrian architecture, a nice little boon that also distracted him from his previous thoughts, with him being lost in imagining flying upwards the tower's interesting structure.
There was a hollow space in the middle, perfect for flying upwards, countless platforms on the side, though the hollow space was sometimes disturbed by a few bridges, perfect for taking a break for some younger or older ehetrians, though he himself had never really used them.
From what he knew from other worlds the bridges would be comparable with benches that people could sit on after walking for a long time...
God, how he would love one of those benches right now, or really anytime in the forsaken realm...
He looked to the side, already expecting something.
Indeed, there was a seat there, and it was quite close to the huge bed that closer than before from what he was able to tell, illuminated by a magical light that seemed to come from nowhere, not that Avere didn't know how it worked, thanks to both Rondel and Cades memories.
They were both rather versed i-
"God f#cking d#mmit!!"
There stood a man, seemingly dying, sunken eyes, face filled with scars and countless wrinkles, some an entire inch thick, looking as if made of old, aged wood, countless spots coming from age riddling it like a decaying banana.
He was dressed in a old, slightly yellowish tunic, or perhaps more of something that older people tended to wear when they went to sleep so they would not sweat all that much but could still sleep and move freely.
Avere had screamed the curses aloud after meeting the man, or at least, after seeing him appear a few inches in front of his face, smaller than him, looking at least ninety years old, that was certain, holding something in his hand.
That something was a bottle made of glass, thin body, thin neck, simple design, a transparent liquid, looking exactly like water, contained within the easily transparent glass that stood in contrast to this place.
A second later he already held the glass in hand, knowing what was soon to happen.