Not only were the murals stunning, they were also rich with a riveting, artistic soul that resonated in the depths of his very being.
The shapes and colors were visually stunning, unlike anything he had ever seen before.
But they were also strange and mysterious, containing a form of energy that could not be pinned down.
Almost like the images themselves were moving...
He had no idea how long they had been there, but the images they painted in his heart were as fresh as could be.
The flicker of the blazing bonfire made the walls come alive as Nero's shadow was cast upon it.
The shapes moved— the gold, crimson and shadows.
Nero felt himself falling into the moving images.
His mind spun rapidly as his very soul was forced to bear witness...
***
A world of soft, green, rich, verdant lushness.
Curling roots...
In the distance, the outline of a deer mid-collapse.
A hunter stood there with a blade in his grip and his bow slung across his shoulder.
