Two hours later, Ava and Stella landed at a small regional airport in rural Virginia.
A black SUV was already waiting for them at the curb.
The road grew narrower and bumpier as they made their way toward the foot of the Blue Ridge Mountains.
Their destination: the remote village of Blue Ridge Hollow.
Behind the village loomed the wooded slopes of Blue Ridge Hill.
Names like Blue Ridge, Stone Hollow, and Lakevale—or anything with Burial or Tomb in it—often hinted at the presence of ancient cemeteries or hidden artifacts. This place was no exception.
Mountains rose around them like silent guardians, and a shimmering lake stretched out before the valley.
Though isolated, Blue Ridge Hollow carried a quiet solemnity—what Ava's grandfather would've called "excellent energy flow."
Led by local staff, Ava and Stella arrived at the excavation site at the base of Blue Ridge Hill.
It was a desolate patch of land, tucked far away from any city noise.
