Ava's POV
The northern ridge loomed like the spine of a sleeping god, carved by time and sealed in mist. For two days, we climbed. Wind howled like spirits mourning, and the cold chewed at our skin. Damon’s hand had found mine once or twice during the trek—but each time, I let go a little sooner.
Something inside me was changing.
And I wasn’t sure it would stop.
Kaelis walked ahead, eyes sharp, silent, almost reverent as we reached the outer edge of the ruined temple.
The First Temple.
This was where it all began—the birthplace of glyphs, the cradle of the Elders' magic, the first seal carved into stone.
Where the Origin Sigil still slept beneath layers of protection spells, riddles, and ancient blood.
I could feel it pulsing underground.
Calling to me.
Or was it… remembering me?
