Asher enjoyed the feeling of weightlessness and warmth and then gasped as his surroundings shifted.

His vision was replaced by endless water. His feet seemed to float atop its surface. Fluffy white clouds dotted the sky. Shades of lilac and orange mingled to dye the sky in a beautiful visual display. He looked around for Antoinette Fiugeria—she had been here last time—but did not see her. Confused, he surveyed his surroundings. In front of him, a pale white oak door, seemingly older than the stars, appeared. The door led to nowhere; behind it was simply air. Curiosity flared inside Asher, and he felt the desire to open it and learn its secrets. That was the purpose of his visit, was it not?

The door opened as if its hinges were freshly oiled. Inside was a vast collection of weapon racks, shelves full of books and scrolls, large cabinets full of potions and beakers, and even several armor stands adorned with full suits of knightly attire. Pantries stuffed full of food, wine, and supplies stretched out before him.

However, that was in the past; now, what Asher saw was only what was left after the cruel ravages of unknown time swept through these once-abundant halls. The armor was rusted so thin it had more holes than solid plates. The food was little more than dust. The wine long since having turned from vinegar to thick black residue. The books and scrolls had yellowed and folded, contracting under their drying ink. The ink itself had faded into illegibility long ago.

Realization struck him: the ring was not merely a prison; it was perhaps a storage device, capable of holding an immense number of items.

Asher searched the shelves of once-documents in search of anything legible; however, his efforts were for naught. Time was the true circle of inevitability. His heart raced as he realized the potential of this discovery. What dangers were hidden behind the allure of power? He took a deep breath, trying to steady his racing heart. He had to tread carefully.

Just then, he spied a survivor from the bleak future that befell the storage room: a large wrap-around desk, complete with what was once surely a lavish velvet armchair. Now, however, it looked like an oak chair with rags draped over it.

Asher approached the desk and glanced across its surface. There was nothing to learn from the various parchments and books littered across it.

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However, there was a stone slate inscribed with a long passage in an ancient language he recognized. This is ancient hermetic script, is it not? Asher was not fluent in the language; however, he knew quite a bit. It was one of his favorite topics of research back at Hearth University.

He studied the slate, his heart pounding as he deciphered the script. As he focused on the symbols, a chilling sensation crept through him. The symbols seemed to dance before his eyes, but a few words stood out, resonating with an unsettling familiarity.

“Soul,” he murmured, the weight of the word heavy in the air. It felt ominous, filled with implications he didn’t fully grasp. The thought crossed his mind that perhaps these words were linked to the fates of those who had come before him—people who had sought power but had paid a steep price for their ambitions.

He continued, his gaze flicking across the script. “Embrace… Slumber… Echo… Safehouse…”

The fragments of meaning teased at his mind, suggesting a complex web of instructions or warnings. It was as if the slate was a guide, but the context eluded him, shrouded in the mists of forgotten knowledge. Each word pulsed with an eerie energy, leaving him with a sense of urgency and dread. He couldn’t shake the feeling that this ancient script held secrets about the ring's true nature—perhaps a method to harness its power or, more disturbingly, a way to confront the fate of its previous owners.

Frustrated yet intrigued, Asher leaned back, his mind racing. He needed to uncover more, to understand the implications of these terms. What did it mean to embrace a soul? How could a slumber echo? And what was this safehouse he needed to find? Perhaps he was currently in that very safehouse.

Determined, he resolved to study the slate further, hoping to piece together the fragmented message that could hold the key to his destiny.

Asher's mind raced with the implications of the slate. The cryptic words lingered in his thoughts, urging him to act. He needed to understand its meaning—perhaps it was an instruction manual of sorts, hinting at the power and dangers that lay ahead.

He stood, determination coursing through him, clutching the slate tightly in his hands. The words he had deciphered echoed in his mind: soul, embrace, slumber, echo, safehouse. Each one felt charged with significance, yet their true meanings eluded him.

However, he couldn’t linger in this moment of discovery. Clarissa would soon be expecting him, and they had a mission to prepare for—a trip to the market where dangers lurked among the bustling crowds. He had little time before he needed to shift his focus from the mysteries of the slate to the task at hand.

Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes and concentrated on the weight of the ring on his finger. He envisioned the slate as a bridge to understanding the power that lay dormant within the ring. With a surge of will, he focused his will into the ring once again. Only this time his goal was ascent, not descent, within himself.

As the familiar sensation of weightlessness enveloped him, the decaying chamber around him began to dissolve, and he found himself back in his office. The slate remained firmly in his grasp, its ancient script glowing faintly as if infused with the ring’s energy.

Pleasantly surprised by the success of his experiment, he put the slate into his bottom drawer and locked it.

He glanced around, reminding himself of the time. Clarissa would be waiting. Though he longed to delve deeper into the slate's secrets, he knew he couldn’t afford to be late.

For now, he would focus on the mission ahead, but the promise of knowledge beckoned him, fueling his anticipation for what lay ahead. He felt an undercurrent of excitement—what would he discover in the ancient text?

With renewed determination, Asher set out to meet Clarissa, ready to face whatever challenges awaited them in the market.