The mountain under which he had been born in a dark chamber of stone. The ruins of the library where he had once developed his own Path. The pillars where he debated the ten greatest scholars of the day, leading three to commit suicide soon after. The City of Anvils, sealed now, where he’d forged his first weapon. The labyrinth where he died and returned to life. The country home, buried beneath a meadow now, where his fury had first touched the Way.
