R — Runes in the River

 

The ancient construct that rose from the Avon.

The Avon has always carried more than water. It’s how Ludovic and Maximillian got to Padua, for example.

Anyway, for years, locals spoke of strange shapes glimpsed beneath the current when the light struck the river just right, lines too straight to be natural or patterns that seemed almost deliberate. Most dismissed the stories as tricks of sunlight or the exaggerations of fishermen. Rivers hide many things, after all, and not all of them are worth dragging into the light.

Then the rumors were brought to life.

When the ancient construct rose from the Avon, it did so slowly, as if the river itself were reluctant to release it. Stone and metal surfaced together, etched with runes so old that even scholars struggled to name their origin. The markings pulsed faintly with power, a language of symbols that felt less written than imprinted, as though the object had been shaped by magic rather than carved by hand.

What the construct was meant to do remains the real mystery. Some believed it a guardian tied to Karitamen’s lost civilization. Others feared it was a lock, or worse, a key, meant to control forces buried far deeper than the riverbed. A more learned citizen may have guessed that Padua lay directly on a leyline. Whatever its purpose, one thing became clear the moment it emerged: the past around Padua was not nearly as buried as anyone hoped.

Because ruins can sleep for centuries…never knowing when something might wake them.