Lira led Aeron to a hidden temple, carved into the side of the mountain. Inside, ancient symbols covered the walls, and at the center stood a stone altar with an artifact that pulsed with strange energy.
"The artifact is a gift from the gods," Lira explained, placing a hand on the stone. "It has been sealed for centuries, waiting for the one who carries the blood of the ancients to unlock its power."
Aeron approached the altar, his fingers trembling as they brushed against the cool stone. As he touched it, a flood of visions rushed into his mind—glimpses of forgotten battles, cities in flames, and an ancient king who wore a crown of stars. The visions overwhelmed him, and he staggered back.
"The prophecy," Lira said, her voice somber, "speaks of a time when the Ancient Blood would awaken, and the one who bears it would have the power to either save or destroy the world."
"What is it that you want from me?" Aeron asked, his mind still reeling from the visions.
"You must choose," Lira replied. "The power you awaken will draw the attention of those who seek to control it. The kingdom of Draethar, a dark sorcerer, hunts the bloodline, believing that whoever controls the artifact can rule the world."