Essek's expression slowly turns a little more complicated. Something winsome and pained, smile becoming somewhat ironically bitter. "Is this destiny then, I wonder? Is destiny the one path we end up taking out of all the possibilities that could be had at any given moment? Yet none of us came here by choice. Is that destiny, when we have choice wrested from us?"

Shaking his head, he glances back up at the sky.

"There are signs of others that were here before us, supposedly the natives of this world who are now gone. The skeletons of their civilization remain." Much like that of Aeor, sprinkled over Exandria, although decidedly different.