The mountains will be your tomb, Loraine. The Obelisks are not worth it. No matter what secrets you think they hide, they will lead you down a dark road. A cold, dark road, Loraine. The summits are still teeming with soldiers, and I doubt they'll let you warm your hands by their fire. But I don't just fear the people. I'm terrified of the winged beast. Didn't you read our colleague's research?! Don't you know the legends? They'll tear you apart before the bitter cold can freeze you blue! You can't even be certain that the Obelisks will lead you to the ancient kingdom. Please, stay here with me. Let's drink chamomile tea by the river like we used to! It's suicide, Loraine. That's all I have to say. Yours forever, Nala.

I finally understand why the obelisk glyphs gave me so much trouble. Their language changed. It split into different dialects, one young, one old. Two factions within the Ancient breed, and two ideals: The young Ancients want to save humanity from... something. They aim to share their fire to help us withstand a looming calamity. Something they accidentally brought upon, or awoke. The elder Ancients want to preserve the Flame's purity. They strive for a continued stoic elevation, segregation, neutrality, and power. They will lock themselves away in their kingdom and... "rise." Sooner or later, they'll reach a breaking point and these monolithic creatures will fracture in two. But I don't know when And I don't know what will happen, or if the dice will fall in our favor I don't know anything anymore What am I even still looking for?