The text all along the hallway was something of a votive inscription, repeated many times. It was read from left to right, and so started on the right wall just before the room. A crowned man was depicted holding a pot, out of which water flowed into a round basin. A small cypress tree grew inside it. Looking closer, the man was clean-shaven, had curled hair, and his long robes were delicately incised with representations of embroidered patterns. He was surely a king. What I assumed to be a god watched on, seated before him.

Due to the repetition, I managed to piece together a nearly complete version.

For Enşe

To the aid of ones unknown

Those lost through the –––––

Kıralluşira, the ruler of Iral

Nominated by Allu

Given wisdom by Enşe

Given power by Inisya

Fed the heart of the Apsu-Eel

Beloved friend of Nana

Son of Duanâ, the ruler of Iral

For Enşe, the city of Lenu, of the island Assuwa, he restored

The shrines, he built for him

For Allu, the city of Ninşira he built

By Kıralluşira’s hand

Unu, island of ill fate, was razed

Its tumuli scattered by the waves of the Apsu

Canra he defeated

Suinhnai he defeated

Eaetruri he repelled

Mēviia-An he repelled

Before Kıralluşira,

Given wisdom by Enşe,

All the lands trembled

All the islands, he united

Kıralluşira, by the word of Enşe

This shrine of Atel-İlla he dedicates to

Let it serve as an beacon

To ones who have been lost

He who changes, transgresses, erases, the words of this inscription

May the great gods atop İn and below the Apsu,

All those that are named here

Strike you down,

Look at you with disfavor

May hunger, want, and disease never leave you,

May evil spirits and Apsu-beasts take your house as theirs,

And let the stomachs of eels and flatfish be your grave

Kıralluşira, by the word of Enşe

This shrine of Atel-İlla he dedicates to

Finishing, I stood there for a moment in awe, no small part of it because I was able to read the otherworldly language plain as day.

The words “beacon” and “lost” stuck out to me as relevant to my predicament, but they were vague enough that I still had trouble getting anywhere–other than just conjecture, that is. However, I felt at least a little confident it meant that the shrine and spirit wasn’t what actually dragged me from my world. Perhaps only to this location, in particular?

Going off of that, without the shrine's existence I could’ve ended up appearing somewhere even worse… monsters in the sea are bad enough already. I quietly spoke a few words of thanks to that ancient king, the so-called god of wisdom, and especially the spirit.

After constant use of that helpful little flame, I had reached a point where I could consistently maintain a bright light, and didn’t even need to hold it in my hand. Instinctively, I sensed that the ability was only ever meant for utility use, but I was glad and treasured it nonetheless.

A deeper inspection of the niche netted three fully intact pots! One I particularly liked was fat, about a foot wide with a small base. White in color, it was painted with a sprawling black octopus and kelp. Its mouth was small, just enough to comfortably reach my hand in–though I made sure to shake it upside down before doing so.

Not only that, beneath the pile of corroded tools and weapons that had been flung about, I found an iron knife that seemed usable. Its condition, though still sorry-looking, was in stark contrast to the rest of the hoard. The knife had a wide base and a hilt that gently curved upwards on either side. Its five inch blade was meticulously incised with parallel lines and concentric triangles, along with a line of text towards its tip.

The text possessed the same quality as the serpentinite stone. My eyes continually slipped over, failing to grasp the meaning every time. There had to be some way to disable the effect… but considering it, of all things, had endured the centuries, I wouldn't be figuring the secret out any time soon.

Three slightly rusted fish hooks were the only other items deemed worthwhile. Squinting, I could see that they too had incredibly minuscule writing on their side. Assuming every item had been engraved, I wondered why these in particular were the only survivors.

Now seemed like a good time to catch lunch. Plus, I should see if there’s any other caves or structures on the island before spending too much time in this one place, incredible as it is.

So, exploration continued. I found to great delight that the island’s side opposite to the shrine had a sandy beach! Additionally, it too had a treacherous path leading down.

On the shore, not far from said path, there were rusted-out skeletons of what must’ve once been ships. They were a bit larger than my family’s dinghy, close to ten feet in length.

At lowest tide, this place was a new favorite for the local birds, which were happily catching all sorts of mollusks. A few instead preyed on their fellows, or on the tiny, bright green lizards which scrambled across the cliff faces, catching insects. However, compared to the mass yesterday, there were far fewer birds here. Maybe ten to fifteen. I was very glad to see none of those huge vulture-like birds, or dragons.

A wide grin spread across my face and I felt a flash of pure, genuine delight for the first time since arriving here.

Despite carrying a pot, my agility and sense of balance were enough to climb down with no issue. Of course, I brought my knife, plus two large potsherds with me to help dig.

I sauntered down the beach, causing only a small commotion amongst the birds, and stopped when I spotted a tiny hole in the sand. Maybe… well, it wasn’t absolutely necessary, but I couldn’t resist.

STOMP.

A jet of water flew up into the air, almost hitting me in the eye!

Working with practiced efficiency, I set to digging. The wet sand made loud squelching noises as I bulldozed through. Even in another world, clams were no match for me, and I quickly caught up, triumphantly grasping my prize. Into the pot it went. And then another, just a minute later.

Away from the small crowd of birds, there were what looked to be some razor clams slightly poking their heads out of the dull grey sand. These were real bigguns too, unnaturally so! About three fingers wide and a light grey, almost bluish, colored shell. In a way, the size made things easier. I could get a good grip without as much danger of my hands being sliced.

Ugh, this bastard. I could feel it frantically trying to escape downwards, but held fast. It struggled with more power and ferocity than any clam I’d ever tried to pick. Nevertheless, it soon came free with a final desperate heave. A valiant beast. It was so huge, just over a foot long, that I didn’t see much point in gathering more food. You live another day, birds…

Unlike the mussels from yesterday, three pea-sized light green blobs drifted skywards upon shucking it. Embarrassingly, I attempted to mimic those dragons by eating them, but couldn’t physically interact with the peas at all… oh, wait. Of course. Just like with the spirit.

I summoned my strange magical tetrahedra and they were promptly sucked in. It was subtle, but for a second, I felt a rush of power and the feeling of ocean waves crashing against me.

Earlier in the day, I had seen darker clouds a ways in the distance, but the actual onset of rain was unusually quick. Fat droplets suddenly burst against my skin, and I was near soaked the next instant.

I had some suspicions about the second power that spirit had given me. However, just in case they were incorrect, I removed the clams, washed the pot in the surf, and let it collect rain.

As I sat under an olive tree and waited for the rainfall to abate, I pondered how the hell I was going to safely get off this island. Not that I considered it completely unlivable, but I know even I’ll go nuts if I don’t have human contact some point soon. One of those dragon riders mentioned picking up some sort of signal related to the travellers’ arrival... so those two bastards may not be the only ones who will be coming in search of the shrine. Or any survivors.

My mind drifted back to the split serpentinite stone and the scavenging birds' bizarrely late arrival. Was it possible that the spirit and the stone had been protecting the island, preventing it from being discovered? That woman did mention the dragon had told them where the island was. If anything could get past the… enchantment? ward? it would be the senses of that monster.

I’d rather wait a bit longer to see what happens than immediately risk the waters. The thought of taking a swim was enough to make me tremble slightly in fear.