'What happened to you Sirrus?'
Your footsteps echo around the lonely caverns of Spire as you hunt for clues. All his journals, his personal items, they all cry desperately of someone at the edge of desperation. You heart tightens as you imagine what he went through. The barrenness of his quarters is a stark contrast to Saavedro's. No attempt at the creativity featured by the other, the cold walls remains cold, and uninviting. You turn a corner and stop. What's this?
It's a small, well, room. How could you have missed it? You've been wandering around Spire for months now!
The walls are smooth and covered in a lusciously thick layer of……pink moss? A luminous pink moss as the entire area seems bathed in an ethereal light. In the centre of the room, a crevice in the floor has been filled with water and steam can be seen gently drifting over the sides. You walk towards it. A smell permeates the air, is that lavender? It can't be, not on this glorified rock.
You crouch down next to the bath examining it closer. The water is clear and inviting, presumably precipitated from the air by one of Sirrus's experiments. Something glitters and from the side of your eye you see it. Neatly in a line along the edge of the bath are a group of crystal figurines.
How curious, perhaps Sirrus does have a creative side.
Why else would he fashion crystal ducks?
