Today, The Bone King felt nostalgic. He felt as if he wanted to relive old memories... even those that were quite... awful. So, Azazel would make haste towards the core. As he entered the room, he gravitated towards the Dam, watching some of the few remaining golems slowly lumber about. Smirking, he blew a raspberry to them, knowing that it would fall on deaf ears anyways. Turning sharply, the Ave gently glided to the surging Crystal River. Waves of water slapped across the stone in the deep river, crashing against the small cliffs surrounding the river. Finding purchase on the higher ground, the bird tucked his wings to his side and focused his magicka, pressing his beak to the cool and somewhat moist stone.

A flicker of magicka pulled him into the memories that the caves had inherited from the quest to shead light upon the caves. The magic itself was weak, but fueled by his own memories, the images were strong and vivid. The crashing waters seemed real as the gorge was flooded with the liquid, the roar of waves almost overpowering him. The feeling of furry scruff within his talons was the same as he looked down to see the dark pup once more. It was the first life he'd saved. The vision panned towards gazing at the dam, watching the golems lazily lumber through the flood. Then it faded.

He remembered it was a glorious day for the caves, when the lights turned on in the caves.