A low growl echoed deep in the walls of the canyon, ancient stone on ancient stone, as though the earth itself stirred in slumber. Kael stepped ahead, brushing dust from a shattered pillar that stood like a torn tooth in the heart of the ruin. Elira trailed after him, eyes narrowed as her senses stretched out far, brushing the lingering aura of something gigantic—something patient.
"This place…"
She exhaled, her voice taut with awe and terror. "It remembers."
A ripple of light quivered beneath their feet. The broken mosaic under their feet rippled, revealing threads of a forgotten symbol—spores of flame, strands of silver and darkness coiled about a void.
Kael sank to his knees, tracing the pattern. "This is older than the Academy. Older than the Watchers. This is… the root."
Elira's breath suspended. "You think this is the first Thread?"
He jerked his head in a slow nod. "Or whatever is left of it."
