Calm, veiled faces of Einar Priestesses
were floating in the darkness.

I climbed their wrists, and then shoulders
using the frozen piton and cold wall.

A long time ago, a good and brave wizard
sacrificed herself in this shrine.

But those who are ignorant to this truth,
the cold breath of Deluzhnoa is
nothing but a harsh curse.

I wonder what these gigantic statues
would have thought, watching her.

I never could see their faces behind the veils,
but I'm sure they are still guarding this shrine,
that no longer serves the light,
under the most merciful command of the highest one.

The statues glisten under the moonlight
as if they are reminiscing a sad old memory.

A Romantic Adventurer, Peregrin Huga III.