Ages had passed, with time almost standing still. For but a single day of his life, the day of his birth, Zeno had witnessed the splendor of the light. Such beauty was not meant to last though, or so the newly emerged bat had thought at the time. Days would give way to full cycles as he had dwelled within the darkness, growing ever stronger with the dream of one day ascending to the dead stars themselves to try to find what had caused them to go out. The day of his triumph, however, had been filled with defeat. After training his stamina for so long and finally flying to the top of Orion he had found naught but cluster upon cluster of crystals, with no visible way to even start to diagnose their failure.

This had been a difficult time of Zeno's life, one that tested the limits of his ability to accept hardship. He had held on for so long the hope that bringing back the lights beauty was something he might be able to at least contribute to in some small way. Instead he was face to face with the truth that his influence over the world was just as small has his diminutive body suggested. Finding himself on the border between stoicism and nihilism, Zeno bid farewell to the room of forgotten stars and made a new home in a place where sounds of beauty were as plentiful as sights had been on the day of his birth.

In this way he grew to his full adult size, still strong from his days of endlessly flying around but no longer as active as he had once been. Most of his days were spent resting upon a stone outcropping listening to the water flow by, deep within his own mind where he could create all manner of imagery to go with the sounds.

On this day, however, something very different happened. While deep within his own thoughts a flash of brilliance shook Zeno to his very core. His first thought was that a predator had managed to capture him and this cacophony of light was his last glimpse of the world. There was no pain though, and as soon as the light blindness passed he saw before him a type of beauty had given up on ever seeing again. Sparkling streams of water snaked along in every direction, accentuated by lush vegetation growing wherever it could thrive, and a massive cascade of water in the corner of his vision, falling from heights unseen.

A full minute passed, heart nearly stopped, breaths coming short and shallow as though he were afraid that too large a noise would break the illusion. This was no fantasy though; this was as real as the sounds of crashing water that had provided comfort to the bat in his time of distress. Finally Zeno dared to move, flittering down from his perch onto the damp ground near the stream and watching as light danced upon the ripples. For just a brief time the breathtaking sense of wonder came back to his mind and he was young again.

Hours passed as Zeno wordlessly flew from one location to the other, forgoing even the minor rumblings of his stomach as he dared not pause his exploration lest his sense of wonder be lost again. Eventually, though, he came upon an odd phenomena: a section of rock lit by a light of completely different nature, telling a story though the use of static images.

"A bird?" he asked the empty air, his small voice feeling almost foreign on his tongue, "On its own power it finds failure, yet with the aid of another freedom is obtained?"

Was it a story to teach a moral, or simply a tale of inspiration? Beyond that who had created the story in the first place? Had it been in this room all this time and was simply unseen due to the conditions? So many questions... was there any way to even start to find the answers?

The small bat sat there studying the picture for what seemed like ages. No matter how many times it faded from view and repeated it always stayed the same; going from defeat to triumph, or perhaps self-reliance to allowing another to help, or perhaps as his first impression had been from imprisonment in his own condition to freedom. Whatever the artist's original intent might have been it was beautifully rendered and deeply thought provoking just as any great work of art should be.

He could not spare the time to spend his entire day there, however. With the return of the lights there was much to explore. Had the stars appeared back in his birthplace? Were there grand views to be had in the other rooms he had passed on his way here? With thoughts and speculations flowing like the the streams of Pisces Zeno turned around and hopped into the air.

Before he had flown too far, however a figure caught Zeno's eye. At first he had thought the shadows were playing strangely, it didn't look like any kind of creature he recognized, but after slowing down for a second it became apparent that this was indeed another living being. Curiosity weighted on the bat's mind as he veered toward a stone a short distance away from the behemoth creature. Was it a resident of this room he had not yet encountered? If so perhaps it knew things about the landscape from before the lights had gone out. Then again at this point it was uncertain if it was even capable of speech.

"Greetings." he called out casually as he passed by overhead in route toward the stone, saying nothing more even as he landed and focused gaze on it to try to discern a reaction.