Lindarion paused before one of them. The mural showed two beings, one of fire, one of shadow, locked in a dance that was neither battle nor embrace. The runes below were half-erased, but he could make out a few fragments: "Balance bound in flame and void. When one falters, the other devours."
He brushed his fingers lightly over the stone, feeling the pulse beneath it. "So they knew."
Ashwing tilted his head. "Knew what?"
"That the ley network was never just energy," Lindarion murmured. "It was consciousness, a weave of wills. They balanced chaos with order, destruction with renewal." His golden eyes narrowed slightly. "And now one side has been devoured."
Ashwing made a low, uneasy sound. "You mean Dythrael."
"Or what he serves."
That silenced the dragon.
