[b]Legends 7[/b] Barren now. The fires cleansed. The ashes subdued. The ground fertile. The air moist. The crypt deep. In these days the people walk freely. Expanding. Reaching out and reclaiming the land that was once a myth. A legend. A ghost story told to only those that had a heart strong enough to listen. And a story only told by those brave enough to know it themselves. The story of the Darkness. Yet it was through this very Darkness that his legend grew, and eventually his name would wreak fear in the black hearts of the most vile of adversaries. There was no weapon too dark to wield. No fire too hot to mold. The void was made his own and it was in those moments; in the heat of battle...that the man became immortal. Twisting the Darkness. Shaping the universe to his will. The will of the light. Where there once stood a being, there then rose a god. And now these stories are told to the people that would hear them. And only told by those who have had the privilege of knowing how we came to be here. In these cleansed, barren lands. I wait in solace with the hope that he may yet return. I watch, in this lonely tower, as the mist fades; and the clouds break over the mountains. Past the Deep Stone Crypt. But I know his time has ended. And I am grateful.