Leonidas sprinted through the original chamber, the one where he had spent most of his time. The moment he had gotten near the collapsed door, it had gone back to its original state, as if by magic.
Pillars lifting and reforming, as if reversing in time, and soon enough, it was in pristine condition. He had stepped through without ceremony, and a wave of information had hit him. It wasn't anything close to what he had felt when he had seen Art's life.
The information had come gradually, in a stream rather than a wave. The feeling was surprisingly pleasant.
Leonidas had found out the name of the room—Chamber of Blue Fire—a fitting name. He did not know who had named it, but Leonidas liked their naming sense.
He chuckled, blue flames casting dancing shadows on his face. They drifted past his face like a line of brilliant light, disappearing the faster he ran.
