The old man's eyes widened in shock. As he was about to speak, he shivered a little. A quiet uneasiness spread through the room, carried by the chimney's glow. His sharp gaze dropped onto Ana's face. With a heavy voice, weighted by years of experience, he spoke slowly:
"Tales of the Grand Era… no one dares to ask about them. You are one of the rare few who wish to know. Only the Tideborns—criminals and outcasts—search for that history… or the curious ones, like you."
He spread his arms wide, like an eagle soaring in the open air, and embraced the warmth of the pink fire. Tilting his face upward, his eyes closed, as though he was sinking into a memory—something confident, something calming.
