Aria nodded, but her eyes betrayed wavers in determination. "Show me," she said, "show me what I must know."
Calyx guided her into a secret passage under the arches, where the light dimmed, and the air got colder. Deep below this underground tunnel, the old secrets of her family were etched on the walls in complex paintings. There were images of fierce wolves adorned with crescent moons, of wars raging against total darkness, and of sacrifices so great they repeated through eternity.
Aria saw a kaleidoscope of memories open up before her eyes as she examined the paintings. Her forefathers, their features marked with sadness and resolve, battled heroically to protect their relatives. She saw times of treachery that had sank whole packs into hopelessness and triumphs that had inspired hope among the people. Every picture taught a lesson—a narrative of what it meant to carry the Crescent Mark, to use its power at a cost both bodily and spiritual.
