They did not leave Eldralith immediately.
Aethric insisted on it.
"Ruins speak," he said as they descended deeper into the fractured lower city. "Not in words. In patterns."
Nyra followed, lantern light flickering across stone corridors that had not seen flame in centuries. The air was still, heavy with age and old magic layered so densely it felt sedimentary era upon era compressed into the walls themselves.
The deeper they went, the more the hum inside her chest sharpened.
They emerged into a vast chamber where the ceiling had collapsed long ago, exposing the stone to the sky above. Pale light spilled through the opening, illuminating a series of murals carved directly into the walls.
Nyra stopped.
The carvings were immense. Whole wars etched into stone armies of magi clashing across continents, skies fractured by spellcraft so powerful it twisted mountains into spires. Figures loomed larger than life, crowned in sigils she recognized instinctively but could not name.
"The War of Unbinding," Aethric said quietly.
Nyra turned to him. "You know this place?"
"I remember it," he replied.
He approached the nearest mural, fingers hovering just shy of the surface. The stone responded faintly, glyphs awakening like sleeping eyes.
"These were not decorative," he continued. "They were warnings. Stratagems. Each sequence records not just events but decisions."
Nyra studied the figures. "They're not linear."
"No," Aethric said. "They are probabilistic."
He traced a path along the mural. As his hand moved, sections of the carving brightened, rearranging themselves subtly. Nyra gasped as the scene shifted, one army routed, another victorious, then the outcome reversed entirely.
"These glyphs," Aethric said, "were carved by tacticians who understood that war is not fate, it is a field of branching outcomes."
Nyra's voice was barely a whisper. "You're… reading them."
"Yes."
Effortlessly.
He stepped back, eyes unfocused as he processed layers of meaning. To Nyra, it felt as though he were standing in several moments at once.
"If certain relics are activated," Aethric said slowly, "then the southern kingdoms fall first. If the Nullcraft zones expand… the eastern academies collapse within months."
He paused.
"But if the hierarchy artifact is fully restored…"
He turned to another mural.
This one was different.
It depicted a lone figure standing at the intersection of converging paths. The figure's face was indistinct, yet something about the posture made Nyra's breath hitch. Lines of power radiated outward, not as domination but as alignment.
Aethric stared.
For the first time since she had met him, his expression was unreadable.
"That figure," Nyra said carefully. "That's"
"Not a prophecy," Aethric interrupted. "A contingency."
He studied the glyphs around the figure, translating faster than Nyra could follow. "The First Era prepared for many endings. This was… an unlikely one."
Nyra's chest hummed painfully now. "It's pointing to me, isn't it?"
Aethric did not deny it.
"It suggests," he said, "that someone with your resonance could influence outcomes without ruling them. A catalyst rather than a conqueror."
Nyra shook her head. "I don't want that."
"Neither did the world," Aethric replied softly. "But the First Era learned too late that power does not ask permission."
A faint sound echoed through the chamber.
Stone shifted.
Aethric's posture changed instantly, not aggressive, but alert.
Nyra felt it too.
They were no longer alone.
Aethric's gaze lifted toward the broken ceiling far above. Shadows clung to the fractured arches, pooling unnaturally where light should have scattered.
"There," he said quietly.
Nyra followed his gaze.
For a heartbeat, she saw it as a silhouette against the pale sky, motionless, watching. Not a cultist. Not a beast.
Something older.
The hum inside her chest spiked violently.
The figure receded, melting into shadow as though it had never been there.
Aethric's jaw tightened.
"Come," he said. "We are done here."
As they moved away, Nyra glanced back once more.
The mural's lone figure had changed.
Its head had turned.
Ancient murals reveal branching futures, and one depicts Nyra as a pivotal force in the coming war. As a shadowy watcher observes from above, Aethric realizes the past is no longer just remembered… It is actively watching them back.