Findir's eyes scanned the glowing runes etched into the floor, his sharp mind puzzling over the lingering hum of magic. "Whatever it is," he said thoughtfully, "it's still active. We're walking in the middle of something that hasn't gone dormant. Maybe...waiting."
Aisa's brow furrowed as she traced her fingers along the runes, her lips moving silently as she attempted to decipher the ancient language. "Waiting for what, though? Or who?"
The wind picked up suddenly, tousling their hair and snapping them from their musings. As the breeze stirred around them, it held their gazes toward the far edge of the platform, where an unusual structure caught their attention.
