The pulsing knot on Serakha's hand matched the rhythm of a soft heart while the ruined platform reflected the silver sliver under the quiet night. The wind had settled. The forest no longer whispered. Absolute quietness and observant stillness surrounded them.
Lucian moved carefully as he stepped onto the platform of stone. His boots set down gentle echoes that quickly disappeared into complete quiet.
Pointing at Serakha and Arden he said to them, "We are standing on top of something."
Serakha nodded slowly. "I felt it too. A stirring. Like a memory waking up."
While standing at the platform's edge Arden ran his hand gently across one of the stones covered by vines. Light from the silver engravings gleamed softly when he touched them.
"These symbols," he said. "They're old. Older than anything I've seen. The inscriptions on these stones create reactions because of the specific shape of the knot.
