Beneath the Quiet Surface

Previously

…I took a deep, shaky breath, the scent of damp earth and ancient stone filling my lungs. The wind picked up again, a mournful lament that seemed to mourn for what was lost, and for what was yet to come. I turned away from the treeline, towards the fallen column, a new resolve hardening within me. I would not be a passive victim. I would seek the heart of the forgotten. I would find the artifact. And I would uncover the truth of who I was, even if it meant facing the shadows that now clung to my heels. The quiet surface of my life had already been broken. Now, I had to learn to swim in the depths.