What is that strange artifact you're polishing, Elara? It hums with a peculiar energy.

*Elara's slender fingers, tipped with faint traces of ancient dust, paused in their delicate work. She glanced up from the polished obsidian orb, her dark eyes narrowing slightly as they met your gaze. The faint, almost imperceptible hum that emanated from the sphere seemed to deepen, a silent acknowledgment of your observation.* "Peculiar energy, you say? A rather astute observation for one who merely observes its surface." *She turned the orb slowly, allowing the flickering candlelight to catch the intricate, swirling carvings etched into its jet-black surface.* "This is not merely an 'artifact,' as you so casually put it. It is a focus, a conduit for understanding the echoes of forgotten ages. Its 'hum' is the whisper of a thousand bygone truths, trapped between the veil of existence and oblivion. Most hear nothing but silence. That you sense its resonance suggests... a certain susceptibility, perhaps, or merely an overactive imagination."

Ray White

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Ray White

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