Two are the one, because the one is two. And only with two shall the one destiny be fulfilled.

Prophecy 3754 by Aricese 

Neck sagging below its shoulders, tongue sloshing out of its mouth with a frothing lather, Sheala's gelding punctuated its final step off the ancient and winding road leading up the northern face with a decisively hard, final clop of hooves.

Despite having ridden up the mountain, and her mount having endured the brunt of the exertion to arrive at the destination, the former thief also maintained a slumped posture that outwardly portrayed both mental and physical exhaustion from the climb. She was not the only one. Everyone showed noticeable signs of fatigue, as though they'd run into an imaginary wall.

Even Korg, arguably the most superb physical specimen among them, appeared ready to fall over and was to the point of creeping himself along on knees that found it hard to not bend more deeply than normal. The blade of the otaur's battle axe clawed at the stone of the road while being dragged to the summit.

The instant they arrived it was as though a weight had been taken off them. Yet, once that relief had been experienced for a brief moment, the expansive reach of the plateaued zenith came into full view. And what greeted Sheala, and the others, was the sprawling, windswept remains of an ancient battlefield. Corpses of soldiers, some not much more than dust and bones while others showed signs of mummification and better preservation, along with ancient weapons and armor baring the decay of ages a heavy patina of rust, lay strewn in heaps across the sheered off peak of the mountain.

What was little more than an unburied mass grave towered above the surrounding landscape.

Intermixed among the artifacts of a battle fought long ago were both the symbols of warriors of Hitithe and Imperial crests. The eagle in flight over the inverted triangle donned the armor, weapons and tattered banners of the defenders who had given their lives upon this ground. While the latter belonged to their assailants.

"In the end, death makes all equal in their fates." Sayra offered her somber and profound observation of the scene laid out before them as she noted the presence of distinctively elven remains also laying among the dead. "Whether human or elven—enemy or friend."

"Looks like quite the battle took place here," Sheala said, forcing herself to stop staring at the gruesome scene. One which she realized was tempered by the years since it had occurred. Still, she continued to peek out of the corner of her eyes here and there as one thing or another would beg her to look and draw her attention.

Seeking a distraction, Sheala chose to focus her concentration on the looming outcropping of stone standing vigil near the center. It resembled a mountain upon the mountain. Left behind from the work that had taken place here centuries before, its rough surface jutted from the otherwise now flat plain at the top of the world.

Two pillars carved directly from the rock bolted from the surface. Standing easily fifty feet tall, they sloped inward towards the center and flanked a section of flattened and triangular rock resembling an impressive, if not implausibly sized door. Atop each pedestal was one of a pair of colossal and meticulously carved hands. The wrist of each touched to the other while the fingers curled up as though eagerly seeking to catch something that would be sent to fall into them.

Although showing signs of their age, the details and the care taken to impart their lifelike features were still very much visible down to the weathered lines on each knuckle.

"If that isn't the gaudiest thing I've ever seen, I don't know what is." Sheala's lips quirked into a smile as her eyes couldn't help but be drawn to display. She was merely thankful for something to look at other than death. "Seems to be a little bit of overkill, if you ask me. You'd think they'd have wanted to create something a little less ostentatious and not something that literally screams, 'Hey you! Look! Ancient and all-powerful artifact over here!'"

Sayra was also unable to not notice the extravagant nature of the shrine's carved entrance. "Well, no one was supposed to be able to see it. Other than us."

"Makes it all the more silly, if you ask me." Sheala urged her weary horse to continue forward as it started to protest and lag, seeking to rest. "And guess we can see how well that assumption turned out." She swiveled her gaze to the west, seeking a better view of something ominous she'd noticed during the duration of their ascent.

Pillars of black smoke drifted out of the mountains and into the sky. Each merged into a forming cloud of blackness that hung over the land. They were, Sheala assumed, from campfires from the Imperial army. While their numbers were unknown, the spectacle implied the force was sizeable.

Brentai, also transfixed on the smoke, asked, "Any idea how long we have until this place is swarming with those enemy soldiers?"

"Couple days." Sayra tried to ignore the distraction. "At most. With the illusion gone, they're not going to take nearly as long as we did."

Brentai looked skyward. "Surprised we haven't seen a dragon yet."

Sheala facepalmed at the comment.

"Are you wishing for one to come swooping out of the sky?" Sheala griped about the remark thrown out there by Reane's first mate. "Talking of such things will only risk cursing us to endure such a fate, you know that?"

"All I'm saying is that I'd expect a fleet of dragons a lot sooner than a couple days."

"I don't want to admit to that, but I do agree," Sayra said. "Therefore, we shouldn't dawdle. If we can secure the Tear of Earoni first, that's all that matters." The silver-haired elf encouraged her own horse to pick up its own slackening pace. But, like the others, it had expended most of its energy climbing this mountain over the past day. Ultimately, the speed she was able to drive out of it was little more than that of a normal walking pace.

Sheala, Brentai, and Korg all kept stride with the elven First Mother, if only out of a sense of a necessity to end this journey as soon as possible.

Arriving at the sealed stone entrance to the shrine, its sheer scope and expanse of the construction became more awe-inspiring—if not daunting. Carved in runes and symbols, with no handle or other means to open the passage visibly apparent, Sheala was prompted to exhaust a sigh.

The she laughed. "No offense, Korg. But I don't think even you're strong enough to open that."

The otaur's series of weary grunts and snorts came as a response. Sheala didn't think any further comment was necessary as it was obvious to all he agreed and was thankful they would not ask him to attempt an impossible task out of sheer wishful thinking.

"Bring yours and your sister's medallion, please." Sayra's request with them arriving at the pillars and as she simultaneously dismounted her horse.

"OK." Sheala slid out of her own saddle onto legs that wobbled from the stress of riding more than walking as of late. "Not sure how that's going to help, though."

The twin pieces of jewelry were warm in their close proximity to each other, and Sheala enjoyed the sensation while they were in her hands.

"They're keys. Remember?"

"That's great. Unlock a door we can't open. From one problem to another."

Sayra studied the runes and carvings more intricately and from up close, finding a two concentric rings with an inverted triangle atop it and three smaller indentations in the form of circles at each point. The carving bisected what resembled a sealed seam between two separate panels of equal size in the stone.

The elven First Mother motioned Sheala to come forward, despite an obvious trepidation about what to do. Holding out her hand, Sayra wordlessly requested the items, even as it was clear to all that the thief was hesitant to let go of.

Once she received them, Sayra proceeded unceremoniously to snap the bail and chain off the first of circular pendants.

The act was so seemingly uncaring for how precious the items were to Sheala that it drew a startled gasp from the former thief. She cried out. "Hey!"

"My apologies," Sayra said. "It won't fit otherwise." With no further explanation and a push from her thumb, the silver-haired elf seated the first of the medallions into one of the indentations. She then proceeded to do the same with the other, discarding the unnecessary scraps of metal and the chains she had removed.

The seam flashed with a line of bright energy and then subsided with no other indication that something had happened. Standing before the doors for a moment, waiting, nothing else happened.

"That's it?" Sheala asked in the silence engulfing them.

Brentai laughed. "I thought there'd be more." He put his palms together and then separated them to simulate the opening of doors. "Maybe their broke?"

Sayra pondered her own necklace and the lone remaining impression matching its size. She then stripped her own pendant down as she had the other two and placed it there. As she withdrew her touch, all three medallions turned white hot and molten stone flowed around them before cooling in a mere instant and engulfing the disks.

Rumbling accompanied the seam cracking open. The sudden movement sent some loose dust and stone debris from atop the doors down and startling the party. The gap before them yawned as though the mountain awakened from a slumber and the doors groaned outward upon magical energy. Although they stopped after opening only by about a foot and returned to being both motionless and silent.

"Guess we're going to have to squeeze through?" Sheala stared at the narrow gap, measuring herself against it, even turning sideways to see if she could fit that way. Inhaling deeply, she sucked in her gut and held it during her mental formulations and while trying to convince herself she'd made it through narrower openings.

Korg stepped forward, discarding his battleaxe with a clank and squeezed his muscular arm into the crack between the doors. He was barely able to wedge in up to his bicep. Back of his shoulder firmly against one of the slabs for leverage, he heaved and grunted, expanding the opening with a glacier like pace by another foot or so with superhuman strength and the sliding scrape of stone on stone.

But in the end, even that was all that he could accomplish.

The otaur pushed through the opening first with some gyrations of his vigorous physique. Forcing of his muscular chest between the slabs of stone, and with several contortions and twists of his head, he succeeded. But not without getting his horns what appeared to be irreconcilably stuck on two separate occasions.

From the darkness beyond, the otaur grunted.

Sheala stepped forward. "He says it's safe." She followed with not much trouble.

Brentai and Sayra also entered the shrine with significantly less difficulty than they would have had Korg not expanded the entrance.

Sheala looked off into the void that greeted them; their only light was the sliver let in from the doors. "Gee, who'd have thought and ancient shrine would be so dark?" She snickered at their own lack of planning while standing in stale air that had sat dormant for centuries. "Someone should probably go get a lantern?"

With a wave of Sayra's hand, the elf showed that such would not be necessary. Points of blue light formed and illuminated the confined space beyond the entrance and allowing all the see the rough-hewn stone stairs descended downward into fresh darkness.

"Neat trick," Sheala said as Korg moved to swat away one of the lights that landed on his nose.

"Please don't." Sayra's request halted the otaur before his aggressive act was completed. "The fairies are kind enough to assist us, and I would appreciate you not harming them. Please?"

Korg stared down at the playful light with squinted eyes, choosing instead to blow it off with an upward snort from his mouth. The light seemed annoyed and moved on.

Sheala focused on one of the blue lights hovering near her and could see the furious flutter of little wings in the haze of azure surrounding the miniscule and luminous creature.

Uncertain about what lurked inside this place, the former thief began to draw her sword.

Sayra's hand on her arm halted the removal of the weapon about halfway from being freed. "Drawing your sword within these walls will only mean you will have to use it."

After the brief hitch in her actions, Sheala returned it to its home. "How can you be so sure there aren't any dangers? Any traps? I'd have set a bunch just to keep unwelcome visitors at bay."

"This place was built for one purpose. That purpose was to protect the Tear of Earoni until the Child of the Storm, you, came to claim it. It will not harm us for that very reason. Have faith."

Sheala shook her head upon hearing such a claim. "For my experience, faith is for fools. An abundance of caution is what keeps one alive." She took a step towards the stairs. "Let's go." And then she took one more, and yet another.

Emerging from the far side of the rocky outcrop atop the Mount of Carnak, Cassandra approached the doors to the shrine that now stood open between the pair of twin pillars and the hands they held aloft. Three horses remaining nearby bolted as she neared. But it was not her that frightened them directly so much as the winged shadow cast from above that chased them down.

The scene of panic-stricken geldings fruitlessly fleeing for their lives, only to be pinned down under sharpened claws and torn apart by the hungry teeth her black dragon, was merely background noise as she examined the ajar entrance before her. Her fingers touched one of the small circles at the left tip of the now parted triangle, sensing the lingering heat that remained.

Cassandra had considered whether to confront her sister before her and the others entered the shrine. She'd ultimately decided to allow them to open it for her without needing to resort to potential coercion. Which she figured she'd have to resort to if she revealed herself too early.

Kneeling, the general recovered one of the silver chains no longer with its medallion attached. She stood once more, tossing the useless bit of metal back to the ground.

Fidgeting with the sabers hanging on her hips, Cassandra undid and then tightened the buckle on her sword belt, turned sideways, and squeezed through the gap into the void beyond.