The ruin opened into a hollow that made Vencian slow his stride.
Stone curved inward, forming a vast lower basin shaped like a horseshoe. Stepped seating rose along three sides, tiers cut directly from bedrock, worn smooth by centuries of use. The air settled differently here, cooler, carrying the faint mineral scent of damp stone. Sound dropped away as if the place expected restraint.
Elias let out a low whistle and spread his arms. "Well. That explains the map's odd turn."
Aline descended a few steps, skirts gathered with practiced ease. "It looks ceremonial," she said, eyes bright. "See the seating? They would have needed a clear view. Speeches, perhaps. Trials."
"Public addresses," Elias added at once. "Or debates. Imagine the acoustics."
