Lyra sat cross-legged on the floor, her eyes closed as she focused on the ancient magic. Kael, Eira, and Arin sat around her, watching with interest as she delved deeper into the mysteries of the ancient magic.
"What are you doing?" Kael asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
"I'm trying to understand the origins of the ancient magic," Lyra replied, her eyes still closed. "I'm trying to learn more about its history, and its true nature."
Eira leaned forward, her eyes shining with curiosity. "What have you learned so far?" she asked.
Lyra's eyes flickered open, and she smiled. "I've learned that the ancient magic is far older than we thought," she said. "It dates back to a time when the world was still forming, when the very fabric of reality was still being woven."
Arin's eyes widened, his face pale. "That's impossible," he breathed. "That would mean that the ancient magic is... is older than the gods themselves."
Lyra nodded, her expression serious. "Yes, it would," she said. "And that's exactly what I've discovered. The ancient magic is a remnant of a time when the world was still being shaped, when the very forces of nature were still being harnessed."
Kael's mind reeled, his thoughts racing with the implications of Lyra's words. He had always known that the ancient magic was powerful, but he had never suspected that it was this old, this fundamental to the very fabric of reality.
As they sat there, pondering the implications of Lyra's discovery, Kael couldn't help but feel a sense of awe, a sense of wonder. They were dealing with forces beyond their comprehension, forces that had shaped the very world they lived in.
And they were just beginning to scratch the surface.