The desert wind swept through the ruins like an ancient whisper as Ardeth-Bay paused atop a dune. From there, motionless, he watched the figures moving clumsily among the sacred stones, strangers whose voices broke the silence with brief laughter, metal tools, careless footsteps. They did not know where they were, or worse, they did not care.

He adjusted the veil covering her face and let her gaze sweep across the terrain with precision. Every fallen column, every symbol carved into the stone, had a meaning that those men would never understand. This place was not a forgotten ruin, it was a seal, a boundary imposed to protect the world from that which must never awaken.

Behind her, the Medjai waited in silence, as still as statues. There were no unnecessary words between them; they were not needed. They all felt the same thing: the disturbance in the air, the invisible pressure of something ancient reacting, trying to break free. Ardeth closed her eyes for a moment, resting her hand on her sword. Violence was not her desire, but it was her duty.

He opened his eyes when one of the strangers struck a slab marked with forbidden symbols. That was the limit. Ardeth raised his arm with a firm, restrained gesture. The Medjai prepared themselves in silence, sliding like shadows across the sand.

“The seal shall not be broken,” he murmured, more as a promise than a threat. “Not while we still stand.”

Ardeth descended, not as a warrior eager for battle, but as a guardian willing to do whatever was necessary to keep the world sealed.