The damp darkness of the catacombs wrapped around him like soothing waters, and Isiike stopped for a moment, closed his eyes in reverence and inhaled the comfortably familiar scent of stillness. Then he continued in, letting the darkness swallow him completely.

Sure, here and there there were cracks or crystal veins that let in just barely enough light to see by, but Isiike had no need for them. He could have walked these paths in his sleep, and he would still find just the right bone he was looking for.

At least, that's how it had used to be, before the quake. Now, there were new cracks, and darkness where old cracks had been. Sometimes he stumbled on unfamiliar rocks, and he made sure to carry each and every one of those offending bastards out, by himself if he had to, and left them exposed and shamed out in the daylight. He was taking the catacombs back, rock by rock, bone by painstaking bone.

Making his way deeper into the darkness, his mind was buzzing with thoughts of bones. There was still so much to do down here. Whole sections of family catacombs still closed off, and so many more bones to sort. He could practically feel the dry white remnants calling to him, begging him, tasking him, to make things right again.

He had to put it all back together. He was the only one who could. Because he knew these bones. He knew each and every one of them, and he could feel the faint echo - like a lingering scent on the wind - of each soul that had once animated them. Though all these bones were properly processed, and most of the ancestral souls had long since moved on, the stale air down here nonetheless hung thick with memories - the very breath of history - and he moved through it like a fish through murky waters.

It was such a shame that he wasn't what he used to be, anymore. In his prime, he had been a large, strong lion, fit to compete with any N'echebe, but now he struggled with rolling even only medium-sized rocks very far. He would have this whole place sorted out in a matter of years if he'd only had the capacity of his youth, and only himself to rely on. As it was, he had no choice but to set the other Amoosu to work, sorting bones and clearing debris, and he wasn't too sure things got done faster that way, either, considering he constantly had to double-check their work, to make sure nobody mistook one tailbone for another's.

Nobody knew these sacred bones like he did, and he was loath to leave them, even for sleep or food. Not while they remained scrambled and scattered like this.

He passed one of the deep, still pools and stopped to have a drink. The pale visage that reflected back towards him frowned disapprovingly before he scattered it into ripples with his tongue. These years of struggle and reconstruction had taken their toll indeed. He was still tall, and still carried himself with unquestionable authority, but his tireless work had made him gaunt, and age had spread the white around his paws and muzzle, and turned his once lustrously snow-white mane into dusty chalk.

He just hoped he would have enough time left to see it all through. To see all the bones properly sorted and resting right where they belonged again. To put this long-lived, historied, glorious pride to it's final, proper, dignified rest.

But the living kept pestering him, didn't they? "Oversee our marriage!" Please, bother one of the other Amoosu to take care of trivial things like that. "Pass judgement on this criminal!" The laws are clear and definite. But I'm sure you'll be able to mess it up somehow, so I'll go. "Can we take in this rogue?" No, you can't. Have you learned nothing? They were always thinking this particular little footnote in history, this particular one that housed their particular little lives, was more important than all of what had come before. He huffed into the water, once again scattering the image of the stern-faced, glowering old lion that looked back at him from the cool depths. He turned away from the water and kept walking.

They were blind. Not ready to see the truth, like he did.

But he was used to that. Even since before he'd been chosen as Amusu, he had had insights that nobody else had understood. He could spend hours gazing at the skulls of the family shrines, and even as a cub, he'd been able to guess at which ones would be the next to be smashed and vacated. He could feel it.

These days, it took only a glance, and he knew right away which souls were ready to move on. That's what he had been doing today. A brief tour of the family shrines, to make sure everything was in order - but when he'd noticed that, a shock had shot through him like a lightning strike to the chest. His paws still kind of ached whenever he thought about it. He hadn't felt so moved by anything since the day of the earthquake, and he had almost even let his shock show on his face.

The oldest skull he'd known, an ancient N'anya female, was telling him that it was her time to be released.

He was surprised himself at how keenly he felt about her wish to depart. She had been there all throughout his life, and throughout most of his father's life as well, and he had always felt such kindness in her. Sometimes, when he'd felt alone or misunderstood, he had hid in there, under her gaze, and after a while he had felt better. He would never tell anyone, but in his inmost heart of hearts, he had secretly called her "Grandma".

And now she was ready to depart.

Well, that only confirmed what he already knew, of course. And a soul's departure was a time to celebrate... and it was probably better that he saw her off properly while he still could. While anyone still could. That wasn't what tormented him right now.

Her bones had been scrambled in the earthquake. Badly. And he still hadn't found all of them.

The mere idea that "Grandma" would not be given a perfect, peaceful rest really cut him like a claw right into his heart, and he knew he wouldn't be able to leave these caves again until he'd found at least ONE more of her graceful, white bones. He had an idea where to start looking.

As he passed by her resting place, he forced himself to look at the harrowing incompleteness, then bowed his head in solemn apology and respect.

"I'll get it all sorted out, I swear." He whispered into the dusty silence. "I'm sorry I couldn't manage to finish it before you left. I truly am."

The fragments of her skull would be here soon. He'd better get back to work.

Eventually, they would all be down here.