6
Titus couldn’t tear his eyes away from the skull. It was clearly a warning, but death had already come for the people of the Borderlands and they had little left to lose.
Finn put the torch into a metal bracket on one side. “Help me move this.”
Together, they put their shoulders against the rock and with a scrape of stone; they pushed it aside.
The tomb was hacked into the mountain itself, each cut made by hand to honor one so greatly revered. A stone sarcophagus stood in the center, adorned with alchemical symbols and around the casket, the implements and tools of the alchemist himself.
Titus took a deep breath as he gazed around at the tomb. It smelled musty with a metallic edge, like dried blood on a sword after battle. Thick benches of black wood lined the walls, piled with bras
