Lira sat beside the map and began replicating the ring on another piece of parchment.
Her strokes were fast. Sharp. Confident.
She didn't hesitate once.
Lindarion watched the lines build outward.
And something clicked.
"The chamber had twelve doors."
"Yes," Lira said, not looking up.
"This is one-twelfth of something," he said. "Not just structurally. Functionally."
Lira nodded. "Each door leads to a different segment. But the rune… the rune connects them."
Sylric rubbed his jaw. "We're inside a conduit."
"More than that," Lira said. "A core. And cores aren't made for storage. They're made for conversion."
Lindarion's stomach tightened slightly.
"Mana?"
"Or worse," Lira replied. "Soul, essence, history. Take your pick. This thing's old enough to mean whatever it wants."
"And the void affinity?"
Lira's hand paused. "That's the language it speaks in."
That felt right.
Lindarion hadn't accessed his fire affinity inside.
Not even divine.
Only void.
