The night settled heavily over Velmora, casting deep shadows across the crumbling buildings. Lira and Cael sat close to the small fire they had built, its crackling offering little comfort against the chill that seemed to emanate from the very stones around them.
Lira couldn't sleep. Her mind kept returning to the sigil she found embedded in the village square.
It was too perfect a match to be a coincidence.
Driven by restlessness, she stood and quietly wandered through the ruins. The mist clung to the ground, swirling around her boots as she passed dilapidated doorways and shattered windows. Every so often, she caught whispers—soft, almost inaudible voices carried by the wind.
"Lira," a familiar voice called, but when she turned, no one was there.
Heart pounding, she pressed forward, drawn by an invisible pull toward a large, vine-choked structure at the far edge of the village. The remnants of an ancient library, its heavy doors barely hanging onto their hinges.
Inside, the air was thick with dust and forgotten knowledge. Shelves stood like the bones of some great beast, empty and skeletal. Yet in the center of the room, atop a stone pedestal, lay a single, untouched book.
Its cover was etched with the same sigil as her shard.
Lira reached for it, hesitating for only a moment before lifting it into her hands. As she opened the book, strange light danced across the walls, and the pages seemed to rearrange themselves, revealing glowing maps, cryptic symbols, and names she couldn't recognize.
Behind her, Cael appeared, sword drawn.
"I thought I heard something," he said, eyes scanning the dark.
"I found this," Lira whispered, her voice filled with awe.
Cael's gaze hardened. "Be careful. Not all ancient knowledge is meant to be awakened."
But it was too late. The ground beneath them rumbled slightly, and a low hum vibrated in the air.
Velmora was beginning to stir.