I followed Elder Eldan in silence, deeper and deeper into the hidden passage that stretched beneath the Village Chief's house. The air grew colder as we descended, the walls lit by faint, pulsing runes that shimmered in hues of blue and silver. Each step echoed softly, like walking through the spine of a forgotten legend.
At the end of the stairway, the tunnel opened into a wide chamber.
And I froze.
It wasn't a mere room.
It was a sanctuary.
An underground grove—unnatural in how lush it looked—its ceiling lost in misty shadows, and its walls covered in vines that shimmered faintly like starlight. In the center, surrounded by softly glowing stones and wild, blooming flowers, was a single grave.
A simple one.
No towering statues. No golden plaque. Just a stone marker, worn smooth with time.
Eldan stepped beside it and bowed his head with reverence.