The morning sun cast a pale light over the crumbling city of Arkenhelm, illuminating its ancient structures with an almost ethereal glow. Despite its age, the city still radiated power, its massive spires and stone buildings standing tall against the harsh backdrop of the Frostfall Mountains. The Guardians had divided as planned, with Lyra, Doran, and Elara making their way toward the next ley line nexus, while Morgana and Henry stayed behind to search the ancient archives.
Morgana stood at the entrance to the largest structure in Arkenhelm—a grand library built into the side of the mountain, its stone pillars covered in runes that shimmered faintly with residual magic. Henry walked beside her, his eyes scanning the architecture with fascination.
"This place is a treasure trove," Henry said, awe creeping into his voice. "The amount of knowledge that could be hidden here… it could change everything we know about magic, the ley lines, and the Weavers."