Ancestors Judgement

Thin slivers of light seeping through the crumbling roof only enforced to make the near-endless rooms and chambers feel abandoned, dusty and gray. Still, in one way, Raze admired the overgrown painted walls of the expanding cave and the small paintings below at his feet although faded. They almost looked lifelike. Like images taken from someone's eye, someone's mind, and thoughtfully put down on thin cold plates mounted on hollow rocks and metal railings. There are various such painted plates, adorned with weird glyphs and images from various angles of what they described still attached to metal or walls; others fallen and scattered on the floor. But this one at his feet caught his attention.

In contrast, the evergreen plants strewn about his feet felt dead. He wouldn't know how rubber and plastics age with long times gone, but the mere feel of the fake foliage felt alien to the scaled feet stomping down on them. They snap or squelch under his feet rather than crunch and bend like old plants would. There was only little real and life foliage that got a proper grasp at the old artificial flooring, too little to comfort the reptile. Moss and lichen attempted to soften the hard surfaces but they too struggled to thrive in the drier parts of these grand chambers. Each step he dared to take only raises the unease in him. So he took no more.

As he stood with his head down to examine an old infographic of his own kind, he let the time pass as he took in every little detail. Of course he couldn't read the human scribes and symbols- and still he has scanned the image of a blurred Cryolophosaurus at least a dozen times. Recognising the shape, the dulled, washed away colours- He remained still and frozen in place. He didn't dare look up.

[...]

When he first jumped and climbed cliffs, rocks and fallen trees, he wouldn't have guessed he'd find these old crypts beneath. Raze found an entrance in ancient shattered windows, surrounded by rubble and bent beams that once held up the wall around it. He thought little of it at the time and decided to explore these old fallen structures. Maybe he’d hunt for critters and vermin that tend to scurry and scatter in such old ruins. Where there are dark holes and narrow crevices, there are snacks to grab, he thought.

The longer he scouted big rotten rooms, hallways covered in lichen and moss that cling to the rain soaked walls and chambers filled with bones long fallen from the wires that held them in place- his feathers rose with the chill in the air. A shiver down his spine. He expected old bones and dead things in these dark and long forgotten halls, but not so many of such a varied assortment. The deeper he went the more untouched the interiors became.

Unweathered from rain or wind. Chains, wires and bars barely rusted, decorations still in place, broken lamps still pointed at the grand displays- although without power. He did not expect to suddenly meet so many bones, diligently built to form what they were, assembled to stand tall as if they were still wandering the isles. Of course time wasn’t kind enough to spare old collections completely. Creatures who passed these halls before gnawed and took the trophies, played and disassembled them on their way. But those that still are held suspended and sturdy to stand fill the chambers with such an eerie pride, Raze couldn’t help but feel the hollow eyes of the skulls intact stare him down. Bones of herbivores, carnivores, creatures he hasn’t seen alive or dead. Huge creatures as well as small curious ones.
[...]

Returning to his current struggle, he finally stirs. Lifting his head ever so slowly, his snout pointed downward as if in pity. The moment he dared to lift his chin, he stood nose to nose to a near complete skeleton of his own kind. Mounted proud as each of the other prehistoric creatures surrounding the display. Only this one paralyzed the carnivore. In awe. In fear. In guilt.
The hollowed skull of the artistically put-together Cryolophosaurus, jaw agape, arms outspread in an impressive display had Raze feel utterly inferior to the ancient relics before him. Like his ancestors are peering into his very soul. Judging him. Yet there is a connection. He too has a skull alike. One covered in healthy flesh and lifely skin, but he too one day might fall and leave bones just like these he is facing. Will he too stand tall and furious when he is nought but bone? Will he too one day grow tall to be worth such a display?

Another shiver crosses the length of his body, blowing up his feathers which in turn prompted him to shake the eerie cold off of him. Death is such a premise of dread. You can’t fight it, can’t bite it, nor flee when time threatens to outrun you.
Raze took the time to reflect on the graveyard around him. So many dinosaurs and other prehistoric creatures, immortalized in grand presentation, standing viciously in lifely poses all around him. He knows he is in no danger of being trashed or trampled, but the mighty horns, teeth, hooves, beaks, spikes and spines, call for respect still. Even if those who bear it are long gone and dead. The young Cryo feels it in his bones. Their souls remain.

Lowering his head again before his ancestor, even if the bones were fake or reconstructed, he wouldn’t know better than to do anything else but pay his own due respect. A deep bow, a low howl. He doesn’t feel worthy to stand among these legendary beasts. He shall not linger in these ancient crypts.

Raze leaves promptly.
Changed by the insight his ancestors seemed to have taught him of the meaning of death.
He shall grow to be a warrior too. One to roar in pride and hunt even when his bones are bared and skull hollowed. Even on display along with dangers and prey alike.
Maybe he’ll return one day. When the time has come to hope there’s a space free for him in the eternal chambers.