Aria remained motionless beneath the carved ceiling, her gaze fixed on the enormous grooves overhead. The realization still lingered in her chest like a weight. Beside her, Gerard's gauntleted hand instinctively drifted toward the pommel of his sword before stopping short. The veteran knight's disciplined expression remained unchanged, though the subtle tightening of his jaw betrayed the unease he refused to voice.

Halbrandt's ears flicked toward the darkness deeper within the cavern. The feline demi-human crouched slightly, spear held at the ready—not in challenge, but in cautious anticipation. Every so often his nose twitched, as though trying to separate the cave's damp air from the strange scent clinging to the stone.

"Greasy...", Aria murmured beneath her breath.

The single word stirred something buried deep within her memory.

A weathered manuscript.

She had discovered it months ago while surveying the forests surrounding Thornbrook. Time had devoured much of the parchment, leaving only scattered fragments that had seemed little more than folklore.Until now.Aria slowly brushed her fingers over the damp residue once more before looking down at the faint greasy sheen left upon her glove.

"I remember..."

Her voice was scarcely above a whisper.

"There was a passage. Damaged beyond reading."

Closing her eyes, she searched through the fractured memory.

[INDENT][i]"A sign of a dragon's abode there is... wet... greasy... gr...ty sub... is scent... and... br...th co...nsate..."[/i][/INDENT]

"That is all I could recover."

She opened her eyes again.