The question Lyra asked lingered in my mind long after we parted ways for the evening. I found myself in my private study within our mountain outpost, surrounded by stacks of ancient texts and unfurled maps. The soft glow of oil lamps cast dancing shadows across weathered parchment as my fingers traced the faded lines of my ancestor's handwriting.
*Other Veiled Lands beyond other borders...*
I reached for the oldest journal in my collection—the original cartographer's diary that had started our journey five years ago. Though I'd consulted it countless times during our quest to heal this region, tonight I opened it with new eyes.
"What secrets have I missed?" I murmured to myself, flipping carefully through pages I had previously dismissed.
