This chapter was written in collaboration with Scylla.
Amon came to stand beside her, tilting his head to look down at the sign she handed him. Acting as if he was having trouble seeing the rough wording etched on it, he took it as an excuse to lift his visor and squint at the boards.
The Bard knew that Scylla was more responsive whenever he showed his face freely, though he wasn’t sure why. He took the opportunity to appear hurt and dismayed, shaking his head slowly at the message.
“People will always fear the things that they don’t understand, my dear. A solid dose of caution is healthy. But fear is a destructive agent,” Amon frowned and put the sign face-down. “The Warrior of Light ensured that these halls were safe. The Sons spent time studying the secrets they found inside. If there was truly something terrible and unsafe within, why did they not seal it instantly?”
The Elezen reached out to trace the metal face of the door before him, closing his eyes. Very distantly, he could feel the thrumming of aether under his touch. A pang of what could only be homesick longing carried through his broken form.
“No… this was a slow and deliberate choice. But an ill-informed one.”
The doors were far more vast than he last remembered. It took him back to the first time he saw these gates and was swept away by the awe of the place.
His voice became nothing but a whisper.
“Don’t you feel it yet? Don’t you sense the call of your people from behind these doors? Focus yourself… cast away these doubts… and simply listen to what the crystals have to tell you. They have witnessed so much more than any of us have.”
The sadness and longing in his eyes were real.
“Amon, I…” Scylla’s voice faltered as she slowly reached her hand upwards, stopping half reach to the stone door. “I just don’t know…”
He peered down at her, his gold eyes bright with a sympathetic, gentle expression.
“There’s nothing to fear. You’ll understand so much more when you see it for yourself.” Amon gave a soft laugh. “And well, if this all in my head like you seem to believe, what will it hurt to try?”
“But what if…it isn’t?”
She gave Amon a last glance, before she closed her eyes and laid her palm against the door-seal, fingers positioned perfectly in the Allagan style.