[ He doubts it, he thinks, still gazing at the small city. Perhaps an echo from whatever memories of his she had seen when they first met in person. They would not remember. Not yet. ]

...It has been several thousand years since it fell.

[ Yet it still hurts. Having to live in the shattered remnants of their star while the lesser races tore each reflection apart for resources or blind hate is like having a barb lodged and driven into one's skin. A painful, constant reminder of their loss.

He has told the tale several times now to different people. He relives the horror every night when he cannot help but fall asleep. The irregular rest is taking a visible toll on him, as she has noticed. ]

It was destroyed. Our own people destroyed it - in their fear and paranoia, the citizens manifested horrific beasts from their own imaginations and those beasts laid waste to the city. 'Twas the same all across the star - Amaurot was amongst the last to fall.

[ As he speaks, the aetherial diorama glows a hellish orange. Miniature therions and other, unfamiliar beasts descend upon Amaurot, burning and razing every building. Skyscrapers toppled and broke upon the slender walkways below, leaving behind ugly, twisted skeletons of a formerly elegant city. All that is missing are the bodies of the dead. ]