Ayra, now mostly dry and warmed by Daniel's magical campfire, had forgotten her embarrassment, her focus entirely on the mysterious black chest.
Lia's calm composure returned, but her grey eyes held a spark of intense curiosity.
Even Nyx had stopped trying to dig a hole to the center of the world and was now sniffing cautiously at the ancient metal box, a low, inquisitive whine rumbling in her chest.
"Alright," Daniel said, taking a deep breath. "Here we go."
He placed his hand flat against the center of the lid, focusing his intent, channeling a tiny fraction of his own energy into the strange, swirling patterns.
The air crackled with anticipation, the only sounds the lapping of the lake, the crackle of the flame, and the thumping of three expectant hearts.
He felt a faint resonance, a connection formed by his victory over the chest's previous guardian.
The patterns on the chest flared with a brilliant golden light.
