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The morning was still young when Kaelen and Varaan climbed the moss-covered stairs. The air was heavy with the scent of wet stones and ancient blossoms that had survived even oblivion. Between the roots of cracked pillars, strange symbols shimmered, barely legible, as if the wind had reshaped them over centuries. "This was once a place of knowledge," Kaelen murmured, more to herself than to the being at her side. Varaan answered not with words, but with a low rumble deep within his chest that echoed between the walls like distant thunder. His turquoise veins flared briefly—a sign that he remembered. Not images, but vibrations, as ancient beings do. Perhaps he had been here before, long before Kaelen was born. The ruins of Lethor'Evan. Kaelen had heard stories: of a temple where the voices of time were supposedly recorded—not in books, but in living stone. No one had ever found it. But now they stood in its midst. Between broken archways and collapsed domes, the greenery grew in wild splendor. Vines entwined everything that had once been shaped by human hands. Yet there was an order to it—as if the jungle itself had decided what could remain hidden and what could not. Kaelen's fingers felt over a relief on the wall. A spiral, with an eye embedded within it. Before she could form her next thought, the ground vibrated. Not strongly—more like a heartbeat beneath the earth. "Something has awakened," she whispered. Varaan stood beside her, his body still, but his eyes moving with lightning speed. "Not all that sleeps is ready to be awakened," he said finally, in his scratchy, rumbling voice that sounded like stones talking to each other. They walked on, deeper inside. There, where the light grew dimmer and the fog thicker. An archway opened, guarded by two crumbling statues. Between them, a fountain whose water was still—too still, too clear. Kaelen leaned forward cautiously. Her reflection was not alone. A second face revealed itself—not hers, not Varaan's. It was old. And sad. And waiting. A whisper wafted through the hall. Words in a language that was more felt than understood. "When you seek, seek with humility. When you find, remember that memory can also be a burden." Kaelen looked at Varaan. He nodded only slowly, and she felt something shift within her—a weight she didn't recognize, but which was now hers. They had found what they hadn't been looking for: the heart of a place that still thought, still felt. And that remembered.