Chapter 67: What does it mean?

Sophia’s fingers hovered over the altar, the cool pale stone sending a shiver up her spine as the shrine’s hum pulsed beneath her feet.

The morning sun broke through the thick clouds, its rays striking the massive slab directly, igniting a soft glow that mirrored the shrine’s ancient walls.

Eldric’s gray wool cloak billowed slightly in the breeze, his green feather earring swaying as he watched her, his wire-rimmed glasses glinting. "Touch it, Sophia," he said, his voice a whisper laced with excitement. "Or don’t. Up to you. But it might... whisper back, you know? A little chat with the past, perhaps?"

Sophia shot him a deadpan look, her brows lifting as if to ask, Really?

Her lips twitched, a mix of skepticism and nerves tightening her chest. The altar loomed before her, its surface vast and smooth, etched with tiny, frantic carvings that seemed to dance under the sunlight.

This was the same place Orion claimed he’d found her, half-dead and shifting back to human form. They’d been here before, her memory stubbornly blank despite the shrine’s magic, and the thought gnawed at her. What if it stayed that way?

Eldric chuckled, as he adjusted his glasses. "What? As much as we are here for this mysterious language we are also here for you, maybe this will help unscrew your brain fog."

Sophia chuckled. "That was a bad joke."

"But you laughed." Eldric said to her. "To be sincere, I studied the art of joking, you know? I daresay I have it down better than Ronan."

"Joking isn’t about reading, Eldric."

"But everything is about reading. It should be."

"Well...yes but joking is more about the landing?"

Eldric blinked at her with a frown on his face. "I do not understand what you mean."

"It’s the execution. There is a reason why everyone laughs when Ronan jokes..."

"Not everyone."

"Then most people. He is the embodiment of it. It shows in his face and everything, even his walking step sometimes. And when he delivers something, he makes sure it’s accurate." She told him.

Eldric shook his head. "You are attempting to confuse me more aren’t you? What you said does not make any sense and if it does, I fail to see it. Perhaps this isn’t your forte and we should just get back to the reason why we are here."

She rolled her eyes but stepped closer to the altar, her boots crunching the frost-dusted earth around the shrine’s base. The pale walls glowed softly, their faded carvings telling stories older than the pack itself, vibrant flowers blooming defiantly despite the cold.

Her hand trembled as she reached out, her fingertips brushing the stone. It was cool, almost alive, the texture smooth yet etched with the weight of centuries. She traced the surface, her breath catching as she remembered Orion’s gruff voice: I found you here. Nothing had clicked then, and the fear of what might now lingered like a shadow.

The writing caught her eye, tiny, jagged symbols exactly like what Eldric had copied, carved into the altar’s edge, a chaotic scribble unlike the elegant runes elsewhere. She crouched down, her knees pressing into the cold ground, and squinted at the markings.

They were frantic, rushed, a stark contrast to the shrine’s serene beauty. This wasn’t the careful penmanship of a scribe; it was something else. It felt desperate and urgent.

Eldric rummaged in his cloak, pulling out a parchment and quill with a flourish. "Here, take these, you might need it." He handed them to her, his braided hair swinging as he leaned closer, his dark eyes gleaming with curiosity.

Sophia accepted the items, her fingers brushing the quill’s feather, but she paused. Instead of writing, she moved her hands along the carvings, tracing the jagged lines.

The symbols twisted and overlapped, a mix of sharp angles and flowing curves, like a language born of chaos. She frowned, her mind ticking. This looked similar to the fragment Eldric had copied, the one she’d translated as we worship her, but something felt off. The more she stared, the more she realized why Eldric’s copy made little sense. His version had been written in a horizontal way, left to right, like their common script. But here, the writing ran vertically, top to bottom, in straight, unbroken lines.

She pointed at the carvings, her voice cutting through the hum. "Eldric, look."

Eldric crouched beside her, his cloak brushing the ground, his glasses slipping down his nose. He peered at the altar, muttering, "I am looking and I see what I’ve seen the past few times I’ve been here. Is there more I should be looking at?" He asked her.

Sophia rolled her eyes. "The writings are not like our common script. When you copied it, you copied it from left to right, correct?"

"So?"

"This language is written in a vertical format. It’s read from top to bottom instead. You read a full one before going to the next." She told him.

"Vertical?" Eldric said with a frown. "Why would anyone write like that? It’s absurd."

Sophia shook her head, her curiosity flaring. "That’s how this language is. It’s not absurd, it’s just different. Look at the lines. They’re deliberate, even if they’re rushed."

He adjusted his glasses, his fingers twitching as he traced the air above the carvings. "Deliberate, yes, I suppose. Rushed, too." He was quiet as he observed it. "How did I fail to take note of this?"

"Perhaps it’s because you didn’t know." She told him.

"I am the most knowledgeable man in this pack and I daresay alive." He said, his voice taking a haughty tone.

"Too bad your knowledge couldn’t get you to translate this then." She said with snark.

"You speak like Orion and I find it disconcerting." He muttered.

Sophia gave him a barely contained irritated look. "Do not compare me to that oaf."

"I did not compare you, I spoke of facts and what I see." He replied.

Sophia released a heavy sigh. "I really should have come here with someone else."

"You wouldn’t find anyone as knowledgeable as me to help you though." He pointed out.

"And how exactly are you even helping me? You are distracting me right now."

"You started the conversation."

"You carried it. I pointed out the writing and you saw it absurd that anyone should write like that."

"That’s because it is."

Sophia sighed loudly. "Do you want us to continue or would you like to write a whole novel about how absurd this writing is and how you, the most knowledgeable man in the world, was not aware that people could write this way?" She asked him with a pointed look.

Eldric swallowed. "I suppose," he said with thinly veiled irritation. "We can get back to the writing on the altar."

Sophia smiled widely. "Now, that’s better."

Eldric muttered something under his breath but she didn’t focus on it and she didn’t care. If she thought Orion irritating and annoying before, he had nothing on Eldric. The man was so full of himself and hated being wrong.

She ignored his words, her focus narrowing on the symbols. The mix of sharp angles and flowing curves reminded her of the fragment she’d read before, but this was more complex, more alive.

She pressed the parchment against her knee, quill poised, but her hands hesitated. Instead, she ran her fingers down the vertical line, feeling the grooves, her breath steadying as a strange rhythm pulsed through her.

The carvings seemed to hum under her touch, a faint vibration that echoed the shrine’s magic.

"Do you feel that?" She asked Eldric who glared at her.

"I feel nothing except your overbearing presence." He told her.

"Never mind." Sophia said to him.

There was a faint vibration that echoed just beneath her fingers touching the shrine. It felt like the language called to her. Her lips parted, and without thinking, she began to read aloud.

The words spilled out in a language that didn’t exist any longer, according to Eldric.

But these words were familiar. It was like she knew them. She could hear a melodic yet jagged chant that filled the air with an otherworldly resonance. "Zha’kyr velis thoran, shal’mera vyn drae."

The sounds were a blend of sharp consonants and flowing vowels, punctuated by clicks and hums, the symbols on the altar seeming to shift as she spoke.

Her hands moved down the line, tracing each mark, her voice steadying with each syllable. "Kyr’vyn thalor esh, zha’mera drae sul."

The shrine’s hum deepened, the pale stone glowing brighter under the sun’s rays, casting soft shadows across the frost-dusted flowers. Sophia’s heart raced, her mind reeling as the words flowed from her lips, unbidden yet familiar. She finished the line, her fingers resting on the last symbol, and the vibration faded, leaving a heavy silence.

Eldric stared, his mouth agape, his quill forgotten in his hand. He adjusted his glasses, his voice trembling with awe and confusion. "What... what does it mean?"