The morning that followed brought a silence louder than any battle. A faint mist drifted over the clearing — the earth still holding the warmth of the night’s fight.

Tarion stood by the shattered obelisk. His fingers traced the cracks in the stone, as though the whispers of the spirits still lingered in those lines.

Laina crouched nearby, carefully sifting through the broken pieces. Her hands were steady and focused, gently parting the damp soil.

— “There’s something here,” she said at last.

Tarion moved closer. Maili leaned in as well, her eyes glowing faintly from within — she sensed traces of magic buried deep beneath the obelisk.

Laina delicately pulled out an old, charred scroll. The cloth it had been wrapped in had nearly turned to dust, but the parchment itself had miraculously survived.

Tarion touched the scroll — and felt something strange. A warm pulse, as if a hand had softly pressed into his own. His heart tightened — he recognized the sensation.

— “This is…” he whispered.

Maili examined the arcane symbols woven into the edges.

— “A letter… sealed by blood,” she explained. “Someone left it here for one bound to Resonance.”

Laina gave Tarion a quiet nod, urging him to open it.

With trembling fingers, he broke the seal. And then the words, nearly faded with time, appeared before his eyes:

“My son,

If you are reading this — it means I am already far from the world you know.

My heart has always been with you, even when I was consumed by the darkness I tried to stop.

Remember: not every enemy is evil, and not every friend is pure. Seek truth in yourself, not in the promises of others.

When the hour comes and you face a choice — remember what Resonance taught you.

Your father.”

Tarion held his breath. The letter was short, but every word struck like a bell in the dead of night.

— “He was here,” Tarion said hoarsely. “He fought… and left me this sign.”

Laina gently placed her hand on his shoulder.

— “And he believed in you, Tarion.”

Maili, still studying the area around them, suddenly noticed something else — a deep, nearly erased carving at the base of the obelisk.

— “There’s a name,” she whispered. “Kael’Theron.”

Her words scattered through the air like a storm.

Tarion felt the pressure shift around them, as if the trees themselves shivered at the name’s mention.

Kael’Theron.

The one accused of corrupting the Resonance.

The one behind the destruction of the ancient spirit temples.

And the one who, perhaps, knew the truth of what happened to Tarion’s father.

Tarion clenched his fists.

— “We’ll find him,” he said quietly but firmly. “And we’ll learn everything.”