The Guardian gestured to the ground, where the ancient runes sprawled across the stone like veins of an enormous beast.
Moving. Twisting. Shifting in a language long forgotten by the world.
"You must learn to read these," it said. "Only then will you begin to understand their true nature."
Argolaith knelt, tracing his fingers over the shifting symbols.
They felt warm beneath his touch, almost alive.
"I've studied runes before," he said slowly, "but these… these are different."
Kaelred flipped through his tome, comparing the runes to the texts inside.
"The script matches some of the ones Vaelthion gave me, but the structure is completely different."
Malakar, arms crossed, studied the symbols with an almost detached amusement.
"Ah, the forgotten scripts," he mused. "I remember a time when these were commonplace."
Kaelred glared. "Of course you do."
The Guardian's massive stone fingers tapped the ground, and the runes reacted-
