Greg's hands animatedly sculpted the air before him, the torchlight casting an eager glow across his bearded face as he gestured toward the ancient engravings. "These symbols!" He declared, voice brimming with fervor, "it’s an origin language. Not just decorative filigree. The Aether-Primal conversion efficiency on these enchantments… it’s close to 92%.” Greg beamed, admiration bounding. “We call this one the Protocrypt language. It’s a calling card – we call whoever wrote them, Sunset.”

“Why Sunset?”

“They’ve shown up even in the galactic center, but Cazoran is where Sunset originated. The symbols show up in too many of the Cazoran region's pivotal moments—the discovery of flux ore, the uprising of the Shardbinders, all culminating in the Sundering Eclipse. Then they disappear. The only thing common about these moments is that civilizations were destroyed. Disappeared. Hence, Sunset.”

“Not small ones, like the cervidians. Imagine all the elves. Gone. Good riddance, I’d say those drug-peddling smarmy pointy-ears would deserve it, but they’re still here, unfortunately.”

Elena, leaned forward. Her long black hair cascaded over her shoulders. Each nod was measured, each furrowed brow calculated, betraying nothing of her thoughts yet absorbing every word.

"During the Sundering Eclipse the very fabric of the Cazoran region fractured. We see the remnants of this collapse even today," Greg continued, tracing his fingers along the grooves etched into the rock. "These patterns are a legacy, a coded map of everything that converged here, millennia ago. And now another has shown up. This is truly exciting."

"What do you mean Aether-Primal conversion?" Elena prompted, her voice steady, revealing none of the curiosity that sparked behind her gaze.

"You know enchantment, right? "

Cal did not.

“I do.” Elena replied.

Greg exclaimed, his enthusiasm unabated. "The intent of enchantment lies in your soul while the power comes from mana. This much, I’m sure you know. Like dao-bound spells, an enchantment requires both, but isn’t limited to a guideweave. Each enchanter has a different origin language – isn’t that natural? They all have different daos after all. "

“Yes, yes. I know that.” Elena smiled.

“The greater the efficiency, the closer in power an enchantment gets to dao-bound skills. Imagine, the possibilities for war! For formations! Truly an enigmatic profession.”

“Where does bloodline come in, Cal?”

“Where does bloodline come in? It should dilute the channels, no?”

Greg opened his eyes wide and looked at Cal with a giant smile. “You sir are a man of knowledge. A true scholar. Yes, Cal. Exactly. 92% is a phenomenal efficiency because purifying the Primal and the Aether to this extent is… unimaginable… for that time. Now you see prodigies coming out in the ~80% range. Not in our region of course. That would be terrifying. You’d have a manhunt on our hands. Like that blasted chair of all things. I can’t believe it has a bounty of over 400 Luck. The things I would do with all that -”

"Greg, the uprising you mentioned," Elena interjected, her voice cutting through Greg’s ramblings. "You said it broke civilizations, do you know much about the Shardbinders?"

"Directly?" Greg responded, adjusting his spectacles with a stubby finger. "No. The Shardbinders fell. But their defiance seeded distrust between the factions. It lingers like a shadow at noon, unseen but always present. It broke the monopoly on many industries and breathed fresh air into the region. They were truly benefactors to all of us."

“How is sunset relevant then?” Cal interjected.

“How else could such a small faction like the Shardbringers take on the likes of the Kathoric dynasty or the Pendulum consortium?”

The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

Cal nodded, filing away the insight as a crash echoed from the passages beyond. He glanced at Elena.

She caught his gaze, understanding flashing through her eyes. Faint rumbles punctuated the air, but the room seemed abnormally stable.

"I suppose that is Jenna," Elena whispered, her words barely louder than the sound of crumbling rock.

"Are we safe here?" Cal asked, his instinct coming to the fore.

"Safer than out there. She must have gotten some bad news…" Greg affirmed, though his eyes betrayed concern as he too eyed the shaking outside the walls. "These walls. They are solid. I doubt anything on this planet could penetrate them even when this crystal is discharged." Greg pointed at the large crystal in the middle of the room.

Cal's gaze instead landed on the etched symbols and channels, their curved lines and sharp angles weaving an enigmatic tapestry across the ancient walls. "Greg, what do these markings exactly mean?” He pointed to the light socket and asked, his voice a low thrum against the steady din of crashing stone.

"Ah, yes! Each of them has a function." Greg exclaimed, his enthusiasm reigniting like a torch in the dark. He stepped forward, running his fingers over the carvings with reverence. "These are not mere decorations – careful! They are history, each one a piece of a grander narrative. This one… seems simple enough. Let me take a look at my notes."

"Be specific," Cal urged, recalling Temp's advice to dig deeper.

"Right you are, I can be specific, but it is often not simple," Greg nodded, eager to share his expertise. "These clusters of symbols are like metaphors, often taking the form of experiences, hardships. They can be literal, but the strongest enchantments never are. They are complex and made from complex daos. This one speaks of the Celestial Alignment, when the stars formed patterns in the sky. A convergence that heralded great change."

"Alignment and change," Elena echoed softly, her eyes scanning the symbols as if trying to decipher them herself.

“Hahaha. Okay.” Cal couldn’t help but laugh.

"And this one," he pointed to a solitary glyph, encircled by tiny dots, "represents the Eye of Tarragon, said to bestow visions to those who dare to look within its depths."

"Visions of what?" Cal pressed, his interest piqued.

"Future. Past. Truths wrapped in riddles, who knows?" Greg replied cryptically. "Origin languages are complex. It’s possible to activate them because of symmetry, but you won’t know what exactly the enchantment does until you use it – only the enchanter knows that meaning a story held to them."

"Encoded..." Cal muttered, the word triggering a cascade of thoughts. "So, these symbols are basically a mapping?"

"Or a key," Elena suggested, joining the speculative dance.

"Both. That’s enchanting for you. Dumb and complicated." Greg said with a grin. "There’s a legacy here waiting to be unlocked. I’d be surprised if there wasn’t a war for this artifact. By my quick calculations, the efficiency here hints that Sunset came back here after the galactic center. That… that changes the textbooks. I’m hoping to get the first scoop here.”

Their dialogue was punctuated by the occasional crash from the caverns beyond.

Cal leaned in, the stark lines of concentration etched across his brow. His gaze flitted from glyph to glyph, each symbol a fragment of an enigmatic whole. “Temp, does that help at all with your translation?”

“A little. This dwarf’s notes will certainly be helpful.”

"Intersecting lines here," Greg pointed out, "suggest collaboration between ancient Cazoran clans."

"Greg, lets skip the small talk for now – I am curious. But we’re in danger and we need to use this artifact to get out of here. Do you think you could find a function or enchantment that could pop us away?" Cal asked, his tone sharpening.

Cal's posture remained unyielding, his mind racing as fast as his heart. The symbols were not just relics; they were breadcrumbs leading to the core of his predicament – how he ended up here. Every answer unraveled another layer of mystery, pulling him deeper into the cryptic tapestry woven by who knows who. Sunset?

"Here," Greg said, tapping a series of vertical marks, "is thought to represent the Pillars of Ghorra, gateways to other worlds."

"Realms beyond our own?" Elena murmured, her voice a faint echo to Cal's focused thoughts.

"Possibly," Greg nodded vigorously. "But this slot, it’s a big crystal. I don’t think any of us has that on us. Stage-five? Stage-six?"

“Hmmm.” Cal’s lips set in a hard line, a silent oath to uncover why fate had cast him amongst these alien chronicles.

“At least we have a lead now, Cal.”

Cal agreed, thinking of his family once more. The faint rekindling of hope.

Greg's hands danced excitedly as he directed Cal's attention to another sequence of glyphs. Cal tuned him out.

“Cal, I think it may be useful for you to learn this enchanting.”

“Yeah, maybe someday. I still need to find my aethercore.”

“Could you ask him about the variance in duplicate symbols and if they have meaning?”

“Greg, does the variance in duplicate symbols have meaning?”

Greg beamed again, “Amazing, you’ve caught onto something that scholars have been debating for centuries. But that also means I don’t have an answer for you. Some enchanters have fixed characters in their lexicon, but others are more fluid and leave their calligraphy to capture some of the essence of their dao. We are uncertain which is the case for Sunset. Perhaps the variations are different symbols entirely.”

“I’d love to pick your brain on a couple other topics as well.”

Elena looked over at Cal as if she had seen a ghost. “Huh!?! I really don’t get you, Cal.”