The chamber lay far from any land Elara had ever known, buried beneath stone and silence where light did not enter freely, where even time seemed to hesitate before crossing its threshold.
Figures sat in quiet formation around a long obsidian table, their forms cloaked not merely by shadow, but by something older, something that bent presence itself into obscurity.
No names were spoken here, no titles needed, for each carried authority that did not rely on declaration, only on the weight of existence shaped across centuries.
At the center, a faint shimmer pulsed above the table, a fragment of energy suspended and contained, though it resisted stillness, as though it remembered the force from which it had been taken.
"…there," one voice murmured.
Low.
Measured.
Another leaned slightly forward, though the movement was subtle, controlled, as though even curiosity here was tempered by discipline learned long ago.
"…that's her signature," a second said quietly.
