The trees thickened as they moved deeper into the island. Leaves glowed faintly under the sun filtering through the canopy, and the air hummed with quiet energy. Strange sounds echoed—a soft rustling, the occasional distant call of unseen creatures.
Puddle darted ahead, its glow illuminating hidden paths. "Puddle see something!" it chirped. A faint shimmer appeared between two massive roots: a glowing sigil etched into the stone floor, pulsing rhythmically.
Rhys crouched to examine it. "Magic… old, very old. Keep your distance."
Caria tilted her head. "Looks like a trap—or a warning."
Sophia's fingers traced the sigil from a safe distance, feeling the flow of mana. "It's not harmful right now, but it reacts to presence. Someone—or something—wants to be noticed."
Lyra sheathed her dagger, nodding. "Then let's not rush. Observe first."
Aria scribbled furiously. "These markings… they match nothing I've seen. Definitely ancient, possibly tied to the ruins visible from the shore."
