There was something in the ruins, and he knew it. There was no reason for a town that was so prosperous to have been destroyed as it had. The charred remains of the buildings gave the place an eerie vibe, and he swore that he could almost see the ash in the air. It had turned to ruins many years ago, so he knew it was impossible. But there was just something about the place. Maybe it was the lack of information? No matter how hard he tried to research the fire, it turned up nothing other than a few articles documenting the damage. Maybe it was the way that the ash hung in the air? Or how he could still smell the fire as if it was raging on, chasing him almost. He was sure nothing was behind him. He'd checked more times than he'd care to admit, he knew he was never paranoid. There was never a reason to be paranoid for he always thought. It always put his mind at ease, but not this time.
He passed charred building after charred building, observing the damage. There seemed to be a sign to the bakers shop, half burnt and decayed, with the top still having a few painted cakes and pastries on it, the paint flaking away and falling in the wind. He reached his hand out to pull some off, and pulled it off relatively easily. Some more flew off into the wind as he did, and he watched it leave before moving on, observing some more houses and how the vines had seemed to grow over the remains, almost as if they were pulling the house back together, hoping that it would simply regrow like the plants, or that the remains would fly up with spectacular magic, reforming into the old house that it used to be. He knew it wouldn't happen, that's now how anything worked. Magic was fable.
Eventually, he made it to a town centre, where a temple of sorts stood in all of its glory, a change from the remains littering the ground. It was perfectly fine, oddly fine. As if it had been rebuilt, or protected. He didn't know which it was, but if he wanted answers, they would be in there. The one place that appeared fine.
The door creaked open as he pushed it, so he pushed it slower in hopes that it wouldn't be as loud. Inside was a dull glow, and once he looked inside it seemed to be almost barren. There was a lone altar in the centre, decked with decayed fruits and flowers. At each of the corners was a large pillar with a lit fire at the top, the only light source. There were pillows laid out in circles around the altar, and he assumed they were used when praying to the deity that the temple was created for. He walked inside and the door slammed violently behind him, making him jump. The smell of ash was completely gone, instead replaced with the smell of fruits and flowers, even though all of the sources of the smells he could smell were decayed. One of the walls caught his eye, which seemed odd since there was nothing on it. He walked over, outstretching his hand to touch it.
As soon as his hand connected to the wall, it began to glow. Strange words began to form from the light, but he only took in one word before everything went blank.
Iilios.