Their discipline in following instructions was exactly what I needed for this examination . Rushing into unknown ruins without proper preparation could easily result in casualties from hidden traps or magical defences.
"Alright, let’s head in then."
I gestured for them to follow as I approached the entrance cautiously. Unlike the previous shrine where I had faced the Golden mane, this structure was part of the official examination and should contain puzzles rather than deadly guardians. Still, maintaining vigilance was essential when dealing with these shrines.
The entrance lood before us, dark and mysterious.
We stepped through the entrance into the first floor of the shrine. The interior was dimly lit by magical illumination that seed to emanate from the stone walls themselves. The chamber was circular, dominated by a massive stone column in the centre that was carved with what appeared to be wind-whorl patterns.
At the top of the column, a feathered wind-sigil turned slowly in the still air, creating an almost hypnotic effect.
My two team mbers spread out to examine the walls while I approached the central column. Near its base, I discovered an inscription carved in so sort of ancient script, though thankfully it was written in a language I could read.
"I braid the breath on cliff and sail, yet wear no hand or string. I steal the nas of footsteps and deliver news to distant reed. You feel as finger and blade, but never clasp at the wrist. Speak in the old tongue where scholars kept the sky."
I read the riddle aloud for my companions, who gathered around to listen carefully.
"It’s clearly describing wind," one of them said imdiately. "Everything about braiding breath, delivering news, being felt but not grasped, that’s obviously wind."
"Wind seems like the most logical answer," the second team mber agreed. "Should we try saying it?"
I held up a hand to stop them. Sothing about the wording troubled , particularly the final line about speaking in "the old tongue where scholars kept the sky." This suggested that a simple modern word wouldn’t suffice.
"Wait," I said, studying the inscription more carefully. "It specifically asks for the old tongue, the way scholars would have referred to it. We need an archaic term, not just the common word ’wind.’"
I examined the base of the column more thoroughly and noticed two small claw-notches carved into the stone, positioned to point at specific locations. The markings appeared to indicate nurical positions - the first pointing to what looked like the eighth position, the second pointing to the sixth.
"Look at these markings," I called my team mbers over. "Two claw-notches pointing at different positions. Eight, then six."
We studied the marks, though none of us imdiately understood their significance. Still, I committed the pattern to mory - it seed important sohow.
Returning to the riddle, I considered various archaic terms for wind that scholars might have used. The answer needed to be sothing that would sound scholarly and ancient, befitting a magical shrine that tested knowledge rather than just common sense.
After several minutes of contemplation, I spoke confidently toward the column: "Aeriform."
The word echoed through the chamber, and imdiately the feathered sigil at the top of the column began spinning faster. The wind-whorl carvings started glowing with soft blue light, and I could hear the grinding of ancient chanisms activating sowhere above us.
"How did you know that?" one of my team mbers asked with obvious admiration.
"Aeriform - aning ’of the nature of air’ or ’air-shaped,’" I explained. "It’s an old scholarly term that would have been used in ancient texts about elental forces. The riddle demanded the old tongue, not modern vocabulary."
A section of the far wall slid away, revealing a staircase leading to the second floor. The puzzle was solved, and we could proceed deeper into the shrine.
"The claw-notches might be important for later puzzles," I noted, gesturing to the markings. "Keep them in mind as we continue."
We ascended the staircase to the second floor, finding ourselves in another circular chamber. This level featured a different aesthetic, the walls were constructed from black stone flecked with pearlescent veins that created an almost otherworldly appearance. The surface seed to absorb direct light while reflecting it faintly, creating an unsettling visual effect.
At the centre of this chamber stood another pedestal, this one topped with what appeared to be a crystal formation. The entire room had a quality that made it feel like we were standing inside a geode.
We approached the central pedestal and found another inscription carved into its base:
"I hoard the thin winters of night in crystal teeth; I weigh the small salt of paths. Hunters sleep with under their tongue, I steady step and hide the glint. Found where tide and fur keep close counsel, nad for the small moon’s mory."
I read the riddle aloud to my team mbers, who imdiately began offering suggestions.
"Crystal teeth... that sounds like so kind of gem," one of them said thoughtfully.
"Sothing hunters use, that hides glint and steadies their step," the other added. "Maybe so kind of stone they carry?"
I studied the inscription more carefully, noting a ring of small dots carved around the pedestal’s edge. Like the previous floor, this appeared to be another indexing clue. I was certain that the clue from last floor was important as it was once again repeated.
"Let’s try ’crystal,’" suggested one team mber.
I spoke the word clearly toward the pedestal. Nothing happened for a mont, then suddenly the chamber began to rumble ominously.
A section of the floor cracked open, and an Elite-rank beast erged, a spider with razor-sharp legs and eyes that glinted with a malevolent intent. It was clearly weaker than so Elite-rank creatures I had encountered, but still dangerous enough to require serious combat for my team mbers.
"Handle this," I instructed my team mbers, stepping back to observe while continuing to study the riddle.
"I need to figure out the correct answer."
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