The man's figure dominated the scene, clad in flowing white robes that billowed around him. His face was obscured by a sleek black faceless mask that seemed to drink in the faint light of the ruins. But it wasn't his appearance that caused Narisva to gasp softly. It was his size.
The man was colossal. His towering form strode across the bloody ocean like a god walking on water, his steps rippling through the waves as though the ocean itself bent to his will. He walked gently, his gaze fixed on the massive corpse of the serpent lying before him.
"Holy—how big is he? He's, like, mountain-sized! That can't be—"
"It's not just about size. It's what he's doing. Watch."
The man reached the fallen serpent, his immense hand lowering to touch its lifeless body. The mural shifted and for the first time, Vastarael witnessed something he had never seen in any of the moving murals he'd encountered before. The scene transitioned. It wasn't a simple looping animation or a moment frozen in eternal replay.
No, this was different. This was... storytelling in motion.
The serpent's massive body began to change. Its once-metallic scales softened, shimmering like water as they melted into liquid. Its long, coiled form rippled and stretched, breaking apart into fragments.
Each fragment swirled and danced in the blood-stained waves. The mural's ocean shifted, its crimson hue giving way to deep blues and green. Vastarael's breath caught as the serpent's body began to transform.
Islands formed.
One by one, the fragments of the serpent's body rose from the ocean, their shapes solidifying into landmasses. Cliffs emerged from the water, their edges sharp like scales. Verdant forests and rolling hills sprouted across the newly-formed land, their lush greenery spreading like veins of life.
The serpent's massive horns broke apart and reformed into towering mountains that clawed at the sky. The very landscape of the Erna Isles was coming to life before their eyes.
Narisva's mouth hung open as she stared, her voice barely above a whisper.
"No way... The serpent is the islands. It's... It's literally them. So this is how Erna Isles was formed."
Vastarael said nothing, his jaw clenched tightly. He watched as the mural unfolded the origins of the very islands they stood upon. The serpent had become the foundation of the Erna Isles.
And then, as if the mural wasn't surreal enough, the man in white stepped aside. From behind him, a second figure appeared.
She was smaller in stature compared to the man but no less striking. Her presence radiated elegance and power. She wore robes that shimmered with the colors of dawn, and in her hands, she held a black staff.
"Who's that?" Narisva asked, her voice breaking the heavy silence. Her eyes darted between the mural and Vastarael, who stood unnervingly still.
He hesitated for a moment too long before answering, his voice carefully measured.
"I... don't know."
Narisva tilted her head, studying the woman in the mural.
"So, what's the deal with this guy? The helmet guy. He has to be someone important if he's just walking on blood oceans and touching dead snake gods."
"Let's go to the next mural. Maybe we'll find out more."
The rubble that had once cluttered the right wall ahead began to shift and pull together, as though responding to their presence. Another mural was forming.
Narisva slowed her pace, squinting at the wall as images began to emerge. Vastarael stopped beside her, his gaze sharpening as the shapes took form.
The third mural was... not what they expected.
Unlike the bloody ocean and the somber creation of the Erna Isles from the serpent's corpse, this scene radiated an unusual calm. It was almost...peaceful.
The mural depicted three figures seated around a campfire under a blanket of stars. The fire flickered and crackled. The warmth of its glow illuminated the faces of the figures, who seemed to be enjoying a moment of rare joy.
Skewers of meat were held in their hands and their postures were relaxed, their laughter almost audible as the mural moved in its uncanny, lifelike way.
There was the man in the black hood again, his imposing figure somehow softened in this scene. He still wore his flowing white robes and hood, but his stance was casual as he sat cross-legged beside the fire. His mask tilted slightly, as though he were laughing, though his face remained hidden beneath its shadowy surface.
Next to him sat the woman from the previous mural—the one with the shimmering robes and the staff of energy. Her expression was lively as she gestured while speaking to the others.
And then there was the third figure. It was a striking woman with an air of undeniable familiarity to Vastarael. Her shadowy black hair, the strands merging and separating like tendrils of darkness. Her eyes, black sclera with deep crimson irises, seemed to glint with amusement as she gazed at the other two. Her bronze skin glowed in the firelight, giving her an otherworldly beauty that was simultaneously intimidating and alluring.
She held a skewer in one hand, but her attention was fixed on the man in the helmet and the woman beside him.
Narisva was the first to break the silence, her voice filled with curiosity.
"So... who's the third one? She doesn't look like the others. I mean, she's clearly... something else. And why does she look so human?"
"That's Erna."
"Wait, the Erna? The same serpent that turned into these islands? That's her? She doesn't look like a giant snake to me."
"What you see here is one of her many appearances. And yes, this is her."
Narisva gave him a side-eye. "Okay, but how do you know that? You sound pretty confident for someone who's only seen murals."
Vastarael hesitated for a fraction of a second.
"Because I've met her," he admitted finally. "When I became Towermaster of the Obsidian Runic Spire, I saw her. Not just in a vision or a memory but her, in the flesh."
Narisva's eyes widened, her usual cocky demeanor faltering for a moment.
"You're kidding. You met her? Like, you've actually talked to the giant snake-turned-goddess of these islands?"
"She wasn't a snake when I saw her," Vastarael clarified, his gaze returning to the mural. "She looked like this. Shadow hair, crimson eyes, bronze skin, everything you see here. That's Erna."
Narisva whistled low, crossing her arms as she studied the mural.
"Damn. She's... uh, intense. I mean, don't get me wrong, she's gorgeous in a terrifying kind of way. But still, it's hard to believe she's the same creature that turned into these islands."
"She's the soul of this place. Everything about the Erna Isles is all tied to her. She didn't just create these lands; she is these lands. That's her soul that vainer sentient form."
Narisva raised an eyebrow, smirking faintly.
"So, what's the deal here? Why's she sitting around a campfire, laughing and eating skewers with Mask Guy and Miss Fancy Robes?"
" I guess... even gods and legends have moments of peace," he said softly. "What you're seeing here... this is a glimpse into a time before everything changed. After the serpent's death and the creation of the islands. This is who she was."
Narisva's smirk faded as she looked back at the mural, her expression thoughtful.
"Huh. I guess even gods deserve to laugh sometimes."
The two of them stood in silence for a moment, watching as the mural's figures moved in their lifelike way. Erna leaned back, laughing brightly as she watched the man in the mask and the woman in the robes bicker playfully over their food.
"She looks... happy," Narisva said quietly, her voice unusually soft. "Like, genuinely happy. It's kinda hard to imagine someone like her just... chilling like this."
"Let's keep moving. There's more to these ruins. And something tells me this mural isn't the last we'll see."
With that, they turned away, the warmth of the mural's campfire fading behind them as the ruins stretched endlessly ahead.
The fourth mural was even more peaceful that even Vastarael thought that he was hallucinating.