Round 60

The runes ignite in blue fire, shifting and writhing like living things. Merrin presses herself against the opposite wall, heart pounding, as Serrine steps closer to examine them. The wizard's elegant fingers trace the air above the symbols without touching, her face etched with exhaustion but her eyes burning with that familiar mix of curiosity and barely contained fear. "Merrin," she says softly, not looking away from the glowing characters, "what do you see? Any patterns? Hidden meanings?" Merrin squints at the moving symbols. "They're... shifting. Like they're trying to form words or..." She swallows hard. "...a message." The thought sends a shiver down her spine. Serrine nods slowly, her expression grim as she turns back to the runes. "A message demanding payment," she mutters darkly. "Our worthiness for the sword... at the cost of our own memories."