Kael knew he wasn't allowed to interfere directly.
That was one of the rules.
But he also understood that influence is not the same as alteration.
He never presented himself as a master.
He never spoke of the future.
He never revealed modern knowledge.
He simply asked questions.
He listened.
He planted ideas.
---
One evening, under the glow of a campfire by the riverbank, he sat with a group of young hunters.
He told them a tale — a legend, as he claimed.
It spoke of a man who understood the winds, and how predicting the weather could save villages.
He spoke of the stars, of the moon's path, of counting days.
He showed them how to mark time with stones.
How to draw symbols to preserve spoken knowledge.
And they listened.
Eyes wide with wonder.
---
Over time, the people began to call him something new:
"The Walking Sage."
He denied the title.
But it was too late — children had already drawn his image on stone walls.
Kael knew that one day, everything would be erased by erosion, by war, by the ages.
But he also knew that ideas are seeds.
And some survive the millennia.
---
Kael began teaching the value of water.
The use of salt as a preservative.
How silent observation reveals hidden truths.
He never used technology.
Only timeless knowledge.
---
And one night, in solitude, he etched into a stone disc:
"To teach without being remembered.
To mark without leaving a name.
This is the path of the Pedra."