She and Verita sleep all night. Or try to, anyway; it presumably won't do any good to not, but Verita has a hard time falling asleep.

She tells her a story and pets her hair and eventually they manage most of a night's rest.

In the morning they can leave for Nirmathas.

Sounds fine.

She's back to her regularly scheduled obsessive studies of basic magic.

The town closest to the lost temple is a fairly small one. They land around sunset and ask at the temple about an inn.

      "There's no inn. We don't really see foreigners," the priest informs them. He looks slightly suspicious of them. Possibly of the Chelaxians particularly.

"We're looking for something in the woods," says Fazil. "We'll camp outside the village, and we won't leave a mess."

      "See to that."

Well, she can follow them to the camp they're setting up outside the village, then.

Hagan lights a campfire. They eat from their rations. They sing incomprehensible but very repetitive Osirian songs.

She eats and prays.

Snuggle. "Can I have a story?"

"I don't want to annoy anyone."

"They won't be annoyed. Will you," she asks Hagan.

"Course not."

"See."

All right.

She does not make up a story, not with the others listening. Instead she talks of Aroden, last of the Azlanti, and the tasks he completed long before he ever ascended to godhood, for Aroden was immortal long before he was a god. He slew horrible monsters, and was a wise and brave leader to his people, and even walked into the Abyss to kill the demon lord Ibdurengian. When he returned to the world he came to Cheliax, and blessed it greatly. Cheliax was a part of Taldor at the time, of course, and when Aroden raised the Starstone from the depths of the sea to its current resting place in Absalom, he became a god, and declared himself the patron deity of Taldor, the seat of all human endeavors on the continent. But it was Cheliax that he blessed when Taldor crumbled, and Cheliax that he aided in conquering and controlling the continent for more than five hundred years.

And that, she says, is enough story for tonight.

It's kind of an awkward choice of story for Nirmathas, free of imperial Chelaxian rule and very very glad of it, but no locals are near enough to take offense.

They keep a watch. They sleep.

Sleep sounds fine.

And in the morning they can strike out searching for the temple! 

This is best done from the carpet, flying slowly and low over the trees, looking for any place where they've overgrown some stone which was once a building. He lies with his head sticking out over the edge of the carpet, fascinated.

Forests are cool. Big overgrown ancient ruins are cooler. She points it out when she sees something she thinks might be a thing of some kind.

Ooooh. They can go check that out.

Bounce bounce.

Hopefully they don't all, like, die.

They're pretty good at not dying! They do it all the time. 

He and Fazil hack through vegetation with machetes and search for an entrance.

Searching for entrances is fun. She's not actually very good at determining what overgrown entrances look like, but she can try her best.

She should probably be a little bit careful anyway. Though to be honest he's calibrated for tombs, which were trapped against robbers, and fortresses, which were trapped against invaders, and not so much for temples, which are probably not trapped.

Eventually they find an entrance.

"Do you want us all to head in, or - "