"A wayshrine," Marcus explained. "Ancient sites used for rituals and as waypoints for travelers. This one is dedicated to the mountain spirits."
Alan approached the circle cautiously. The stones were covered in carvings—spiraling patterns and symbols that seemed to shift slightly when viewed from different angles. The central altar stone had a shallow basin carved into its top surface.
"These carvings..." Alan began, then stopped as he realized what he was seeing. "They're mathematical. Look at this sequence—it's a representation of wave functions, but in three dimensions."
Marcus joined him, studying the patterns with new interest. "The ancient ones understood magic differently than we do now. They saw patterns where we see forces."
Alan traced one of the spiraling sequences with his finger. "This is remarkably similar to quantum field equations from my world. The mathematics of wave propagation through space-time." He moved to another stone. "And this—this looks like a model of dimensional boundaries."
"Perhaps your worlds are not as different as they appear," Marcus suggested. "The fundamental patterns may be universal, merely interpreted through different frameworks."
As fascinating as the discovery was, Alan was suddenly struck by a more immediate concern. "If these are waypoints for travelers, might others pass through here? The Academy investigators, for instance?"
"Possible, though the main evacuation route would be their primary focus." Marcus glanced at the position of the sun, now noticeably lower in the sky. "We should rest briefly, then continue. We still have several hours of travel before reaching Ironhammer."
They settled on rocks near the edge of the wayshrine, sharing the last of the food Marcus had packed—dried fruit and what appeared to be jerky of some unidentifiable meat. Alan found both surprisingly palatable, his hunger overriding any hesitation.
As they ate, Alan noticed something odd about one of the standing stones—a faint glow that pulsed in rhythm with his heartbeat. He pointed it out to Marcus.
"The stones respond to those with magical potential," Marcus explained. "They were used to identify those who might be trained."
"But I don't have magic," Alan protested.
"Perhaps not as we define it," Marcus replied. "But your ability to manipulate energy through your scientific understanding produces similar effects. The stones don't distinguish between methods, only results."
Alan considered this, remembering how he had activated the tuning crystal and disrupted the Void Knight's armor. "So from the perspective of your world, my understanding of physics is functionally equivalent to magic?"
"A crude simplification, but essentially correct," Marcus confirmed. "Though your approach seems more... systematic than traditional magic. Less intuitive, more analytical."
Before Alan could pursue this fascinating line of thought, a sound from the path they had traveled caught their attention—loose stones clattering, as if dislodged by approaching feet.
They rose quickly, moving behind one of the larger standing stones for concealment. Within moments, a figure appeared on the path—a woman in travel-worn clothing, moving with the cautious precision of someone accustomed to difficult terrain.
It took Alan a moment to recognize her without her Academy robes, but the silver-white hair was unmistakable.
"Lyra," he whispered to Marcus.
The older man nodded, his expression unreadable. "Alone, and not on the main evacuation route. Interesting."
They watched as Lyra entered the stone circle, her attention immediately drawn to the same stone that had glowed for Alan. She approached it, placing her palm against the carved surface. The glow intensified, spreading to the adjacent stones until the entire circle was illuminated with a soft purple light.
"A seeking ritual," Marcus murmured. "She's tracking us."
Alan felt a surge of alarm. "I thought you said the Academy would follow the evacuation route."
"I said it was likely, not certain." Marcus watched Lyra with a calculating expression. "What's curious is that she's alone. Academy investigators typically travel in pairs at minimum."
Lyra had moved to the central altar stone, where she removed a small crystal from a pouch at her belt. She placed it in the basin and spoke words too quiet for them to hear. The crystal began to glow, projecting what appeared to be a map of light above the altar—a three-dimensional representation of the surrounding mountains, with a pulsing point of light marking their current location.
"She's good," Marcus admitted with reluctant admiration. "That's advanced tracking magic, beyond what most her age could manage."
As they watched, Lyra studied the map, then suddenly looked directly toward their hiding place. "I know you're there," she called. "You might as well show yourselves."
Marcus sighed and stepped out from behind the stone, gesturing for Alan to follow. "Your tracking skills have improved since I last taught you, Lyra."
She didn't appear surprised to see them. "And your concealment skills have diminished, Master Raven. Age catching up with you, perhaps?"
Despite the barbed words, there was no real hostility in her tone. She deactivated the crystal, the light map fading away.
"Why are you following us?" Alan asked directly. "And why alone? Where are the other Academy investigators?"
Lyra's violet eyes fixed on him with that same assessing look she had given him in Clayton. "The official investigation team is following the main evacuation route, as expected. They'll reach Clayton by nightfall, find it abandoned, and follow the villagers to Ironhammer."
"That doesn't answer why you're here," Marcus pointed out.
Lyra hesitated, then seemed to come to a decision. "Because I wanted to reach you first. To warn you."
This was clearly not what either man had expected. "Warn us about what?" Marcus asked.
"The Academy's response to the energy surge was... unusual," Lyra explained. "Instead of the standard investigation protocol, they dispatched a Containment Team."
Marcus's expression darkened. "Containment? Before assessment? That's against all procedures."
"Exactly," Lyra agreed. "Something's not right. The order came directly from Magister Shadowveil himself."
Alan noticed how Marcus tensed at the name. "Who is Shadowveil?"