Despite the past and the fact people may have dismissed it as a mere ghost story, the sigil didn't lie. Three interlocking triangles, etched in pale light, encased within a half-moon arc. The moment it finished forming, it sizzled out of existence like it was never there.
Dravon stepped back, rubbing his jaw. "What the hell was that just now? It's really not a ghost story, huh?"
"I don't know, but so it would seem," Nova said, though part of him did. "But someone is interfering with these ruins—and they are covering their tracks with magic I have never seen before. Or only seen pieces of."
Nova leaned back against a wall, with his arms crossed as he thought about everything Dravon just said to him, and his eyes narrowed as he began trying to connect them in his head to see if there was anything that he missed before, even a small detail, since all of that could help them.
