The journey back to the Aurora camp felt lighter for Luke, despite the physical toll. His mind buzzed with the echoes of his vision and the weight of his newfound purpose. He wasted no time upon arrival, reporting directly to his superiors and requesting an audience with Master Borris.
The old mage, even more wizened than Luke remembered, resided in a dusty corner of the camp, a veritable library of ancient scrolls and forgotten lore. The air hung heavy with the scent of aged parchment and extinguished candles. Luke bowed respectfully as he entered.
"Master Borris," he began, his voice brimming with urgency, "I require your expertise on a matter of utmost importance."
Borris, his rheumy eyes twinkling with a spark of curiosity, gestured for Luke to explain. Luke recounted his experiences in detail, from the searing vision of the fiery civilization to the uncanny connection he felt with the scorched bone fragment.
As Luke spoke, Borris listened intently, his weathered face creased in contemplation. When Luke finished, a profound silence descended upon the room. Finally, Borris spoke, his voice rasping like dry leaves rustling in the wind.
"The visions you describe… they speak of the Ignis people," he uttered, his voice laced with a hint of awe.
Luke's eyebrows shot up. "The Ignis people? Who are they?"
"An ancient civilization," Borris explained, "lost to history. Legends speak of them as masters of fire magic, wielding its power with unparalleled control. Their empire, built entirely of obsidian, was said to have burned with an ethereal light."
A shiver ran down Luke's spine. The vision, the bone fragment, it all fit into place.
"But Master," Luke pressed, "what does this have to do with the stele?"
Borris scrutinized the amulet hanging around Luke's neck. His fingers traced the intricate patterns etched on its surface, a thoughtful frown etched on his face.
"I cannot be certain," he admitted, "but there is a possibility. The stele you possess could be an artifact of the Ignis people, a fragment of their knowledge passed down through the ages."
The implication hung heavy in the air. Luke, is a custodian of a forgotten legacy.
"This knowledge," Borris continued, his voice low and serious, "could be of immense power. But such power often attracts unwanted attention." He fixed Luke with a piercing gaze. "There might be forces, both within and outside the kingdom, who would covet the secrets of the Ignis."
Luke felt a cold dread creep into his heart. His quest for knowledge might come at a heavy price.
"Do you think…" Luke began hesitantly, "Do you think the magic used by the Aurora Kingdom, the scroll Prince Valdar used… is somehow connected to the Ignis?"
Borris' frown deepened. "There are whispers in ancient texts," he admitted, "of a pact made between a long-forgotten king and the Ignis people. A pact that granted the kingdom knowledge of fire magic."
The revelation stunned Luke. Their very foundation of magic might be rooted in the same source as the stele.
"This... this changes everything," he stammered.
Borris placed a wrinkled hand on Luke's shoulder. "Indeed, it does. But for now," he said, his voice firm, "keep these discoveries a secret. Let us delve deeper into the texts, and understand the true nature of the stele before we reveal its existence."
Luke nodded, understanding the weight of the mage's words. The stele was no longer just a personal mystery; it was a potential powder keg. He may have stumbled upon the key to unlocking the secrets of fire magic, but with it came the responsibility to wield that knowledge wisely. The path ahead was fraught with danger, but Luke, emboldened by a newfound purpose, was determined to see it through. He was a knight, a scholar, and now, the custodian of a forgotten past. His journey had just begun.