Soundtrack;

  Depressive Silence - Depressive Silence II

  (1996) (Dungeon Synth, Black Ambient)

  He opened the massive gates of black bars, and beyond them he was alone. Some paths were buried in dust, up to the roofs of the stone buildings. And just above the roofs, thick clouds of fog. The gate closed behind the dragon with a squeak of ancient hinges, slamming the large meteorite steel locking mechanism shut upon impact.

  A pale glow of light shone from the heart of the town. He turned there, to see, to find where his intuition was leading him. Was this the Path of Light?

  He peered through doors, peered into windows. The buildings were empty and ruined, most of them mere vestiges beneath mounds of gray dust.

  In the center of the circular square was a shrine. Another humanoid statue, but this time with a companion, and his companion was chained, bound with a collar of shadowy stone, made, like the entire monument, of shadow essence.

  It was a creature of the same species, but this one sat as a statue, and in front of it stood a bowl containing something pointed. The humanoid figure was significantly taller than the dragon. His hand was outstretched, his fingers spread as if he wanted to grab something.

  And all around, silence reigned, with a deep rumble, like thunder from a distant storm. And above their heads, a thick fog. The source of the pale light was a luminous sphere suspended on four poles, high above the statue's head.

  The dragon sat in the center, in front of the statue, and for a long time stared at everything. Absolutely nothing happened here. Nothing. No movement, no sound. Around them, dunes and ruins. And only a few roads, each in a different direction, each toward the gloomy fog, seemingly endless.

  Finally, he felt it was difficult to listen to his intuition, difficult to make a move, as if he were losing control of himself with each passing moment.

  He felt a weight on his neck. The weight of the rocky collar and chain.

  Suddenly, he clutched at his neck with his claws, frantically examining his body as if he were becoming a reflection of the statue. Then his mind cleared. He was not a statue, but for long moments, he was a reflection of the creature he was staring at.

  He wasn't there of his own free will.

  Now, that hand suspended in the air no longer seemed like a friendly gesture of greeting. The statue wanted control.

  Light.

  Another thought occurred to him. Unfortunately, he had already forgotten what the symbols of the path of light looked like. He also no longer knew how he had gotten here. Each path looked the same, none bore his tracks. He turned in every direction, and from every direction the same thing called to him. The pressure of time and silence.

  He looked into the eyes of the statue, but its eyes were stony and showed nothing.

  As he walked along one of the roads, a black metal gate stood at its end, so tall that its pointed peaks pierced the thick mists. The gate remained motionless, locked with a shadowy bolt that could not be forced open, though he tried again and again, and nothing budged.

  An ordinary bolt. The mechanism wasn't too difficult for his intelligence, but something held it, as if frozen in time. There was no physical strength that could lift it.

  He traveled along each of the roads, and when he returned, it seemed to him that the statue each time turned to face the direction from which the dragon had come.

  It seemed impossible to him that he would turn around and choose the same path each time. He decided to keep turning right. And each time, the statue stood there to greet him, along with his companion on a chain and collar.

  Throughout this entire journey, the dragon felt the terrible weight of the chain and collar. He was forced to constantly walk in circles.

  It seemed impossible to him that he would turn around and choose the same path each time. He decided to keep turning left. And each time, the statue stood there to greet him, along with his companion on a chain and collar.

  Throughout this entire journey, the dragon felt the terrible weight of the chain and collar. He was forced to constantly walk in circles.

  He sat down again in front of the statue and stared for a long time, searching for anything that might help him.

  After much contemplation, the weight on his neck only grew. The memories became rather blurry, but still present. He thought that resisting them would only make things worse. Somewhere he had made a mistake, somewhere he had lost his way.

  He approached the statue, tried to do anything, even bit the humanoid's finger. The worst thing was that he couldn't oppose the statue because it was stone, and the dragon was a dragon that by nature opposed everything that was unfavorable. As he touched the collar around the creature's neck, a strange vibration touched the dragon.

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  He remembered the mirror, and then realized that what the dragon felt and saw belonged to its four-legged companion, who was a statue. He saw no mirror anywhere that could reflect this fate.

  He touched the strange bowl to examine it. It was a black stone object with a pointed spire in the center, slightly inclined towards one of the bowl's edges. Various markings were carved around the rim. He had the feeling that something had changed, but he couldn't tell what.

  The statue kept looking down one road, with that one perspective, so every road became that one road.

  The dragon longed to show this creature that there were many paths around. He himself knew this, but he could no longer be certain. It was a memory from a journey of memory, and the journey revealed that everything was the same, as if in the light of truth.

  He decided to recall his memories. Slowly, images of the storm, the fog, the stars, the gleaming amethysts, the members of the herd began to form in his mind.

  He began to recount his entire adventure aloud. Eventually the story turned into a mantra that each Path is different.

  Each Path is different.

  It was hard for him to believe that each Path was different. But he saw no other way but to follow his imagination.

  Finally, he told the whole world, the whole story, of the creature trapped by the chain and collar. It was a burden that needed to be shed. It was a restriction that needed to be escaped.

  He told the story of how the shadow entity had brought the mirror. He spoke it aloud, directing his words at the statue in a way that would exert pressure on it, clearly expressing his opposition, pressing on the words until he himself grew weary of them, just as the collar pressed on him.

  - “Throw off the chain.” His calm, yet heavy and hoarse voice finished the story with those intensely spoken words. The dragon's paws trembled with the effort.

  Nothing happened.

  The dragon looked into the eyes of the statue, and the statue looked up proudly, and above it shone a pale ball, but much brighter and less stable than before.

  He was already doubting whether the statue was even listening, but his intuition held no doubt.

  Now the dragon was no longer a reflection of the statue.

  Each Path was different.

  A shimmering spot caught the dragon's attention. Walking down one of the paths was his companion, an amethyst necklace around his neck.

  Then he knew his story had been heard. The glow of the necklace reflected the light from the silver sphere, drawing shooting stars around it.

  The collar snapped open and the chain fell off. The creature broke free in a crashing cascade of cracks and a shower of dust as the stone shell transformed into shadowy flesh, and it ran in a direction he wasn't looking. Another ran after it immediately.

  The dragon felt his mission accomplished. He didn't know where to go. He looked around, and every path seemed the same. He decided to follow the creatures, but he no longer knew which way they had gone. He sat down with a moment of hesitation and stared at the strange bowl.

  The roads had to lead somewhere.

  He wanted to move anywhere, to leave this place, but when he tried to move, his movements were halted by a tug and a metallic noise. The tug came from the necklace around his neck. The necklace became a shadowy collar, bound by a chain, and the chain was stuck in the statue's hand. He tugged with all his might, but there was no force to tear it apart like he was tearing it apart in his imagination.

  The worst thing was that he couldn't oppose the statue because it was stone, and the dragon was a dragon that by nature opposed everything that was unfavorable.

  …

  A flash of light, more powerful than any before, cut through the mists hanging over the tower. The dragon blinked several times and began to look up, down, and to the side. After a long moment of silence, a thunderclap came, so deep and powerful that it shook the stone structures and the statue hard enough to loosen its stone hand and release its chain.

  With a hiss, the ball of light began to flicker unsteadily and brightly, growing ever brighter. Immediately afterward, link after link began to crack, crumbling into dust. The collar itself began to transform from shadow into a light necklace with an amethyst on a thin silver chain. The chain scratched him furiously, which was strange, but he refused to give up the necklace.

  He realized that the creatures he had encountered earlier had proven not to be hostile. He had been too quick to judge them in his mind. He thought, rather, that this was a form of cooperation. As he reflected, he quickly moved away from the monument, turned around, and glared at it with hostility.

  The stone statue's eyes remained cold, proud, gazing upward, but its hands were empty, spread out to the sides, as if it was surprised by this fact. And above it, a silver sphere illuminated the circular square around it, tracing rays through the mist.

  The place was still deserted and gloomy, and the monument itself exuded something dark, but the silver sphere above made it look peaceful under the hazy sky. Something had made the pressure of time disappear.

  The dragon backed away from the monument, keeping the predator's watchful eye on it the entire time. His tail flicked nervously as he retreated toward one of the roads.

  Suddenly, something grabbed his tail, then his hind leg. It was powerful, dragging him into one of the ruined buildings, and the dragon's claws lashed out, trying to cling to the loose ground beneath him, carving ruts.

  He was pulled into the room and finally able to turn to look. There was another of those beasts. With questioning eyes, the dragon looked into the creature's, and they glowed amethyst with an alien vibration that gave him understanding. The creature purred, pointing its nose at the stone wall. The dragon didn't know if it was the beast he had previously released, or another, alien. For the first time he heard them actually making any sounds. He was amazed by the strength of these creatures. Considering how numerous they were, he gained great respect for them, for they were capable of defeating him, something he had not previously been aware of.

  He quickly stood up, brushed the dust from his paws, and glanced at the room he found himself in. The light from above the statue shone through the black-barred window, casting a gridded shadow. The creature purred again and pointed with its nose at a staircase hidden behind the stone wall. A staircase to the basement. Now he noticed that the creature held some kind of shiny, sharp-edged slab in its mouth.

  Perhaps that was why he didn't say anything? He glanced out the window at the square, the monument, and the strange bowl that seemed to be facing a different direction than before. Suddenly he was hit on the shoulder to force him towards the stairs. He folded his wings and squeezed through the crack in the wall. He thought that once these weren't the homes of dragons, but rather of some smaller creatures.

  He wandered through tunnels dug into the black rock. The underground turned out to be vast, full of tunnels and nooks. He constantly felt as if eyes were following him from every corner. As he ran, shivers ran down his spine stroked with glances. His ornate webbed spines bent at the touch of glances and rocks, making his gait very unsteady and his posture constantly bowed.

  They stopped in a larger room, with an altar in its center. A moment later, a dozen dark beings entered the room, humanoid shadows, but small, barely reaching halfway up to the dragon's paws. Each one came from a different direction. They brought what appeared to be a scroll of parchment.

  They themselves shielded their faces from the light source. The dragon noticed that the light falling on the tabletop wasn't from the chandelier, but rather from a statue that had passed through the mirrors into the underworld. The being placed a glassy disk in a hoop above the tabletop, and suddenly a colorful map full of symbols appeared on the parchment, glowing intensely from the concentrated rays of light.

  The being manipulated the mirror for a long time, trying to synchronize the image or find something on the map.

  Suddenly the dragon saw something that froze him.

  …