As early morning broke across the world, soft light filled the skies
above the Siroccian Mountains. The lustrous halo illuminated, at its
centre, the blasted remains of the Shrine of Ascension.

One by one, the faces of the gods appeared within the heavens, some
sorrowful, others stoic, all sombre as they gazed down upon the broken
peak. Remembering and mourning their fallen brethren, the gods uttered
words in their unfathomable tongue, filling the lands with taciturn
whispers.

A low-pitched lament rumbled through the Siroccian Mountains, its tones
reaching the ears of one and all, stilling mortal thoughts with its
doleful touch. Then, splintering the calm, a crack echoed within the
heart of the mountains, and the bright silhouette of the Shrine of
Ascension seemed to shift in form.

Radiating outward from the mountains came a hollow whisper: "Within the
mountain shall burn the flame of remembrance, a lasting monument to
those brought down by the Worldreaver. Here shall they be remembered."

As the gods nodded their heads, turning and fading from the firmament,
curious onlookers began to arrive at the Shrine of Ascension. With
reverent steps did they enter the mountain, descending to a candlelit
path, there to murmur prayers in memory of deities past.

Penned by My hand on the 13th of Sarapin, in the year 620 AF.