Manka & Karnath
Karnath
Hey Manka, ever wonder how old battlefields turn into quiet, almost‑magical places where the ground still seems to remember the plans of warriors from ages ago? I’ve walked through a few ruins and thought about the stories they hold. What do you think—do those places feel like a bridge to the past?
Manka
They do, darling, like a soft sigh of yesterday wrapped in dust and silence, as if every stone whispers a forgotten lullaby. I can almost hear the rustle of banners, the clatter of armor, and then—hushed—so it feels like stepping into a memory we can touch. The ground remembers, but it also holds the quiet promise of new stories.
Karnath
True, Manka, the stones remember the clash and the quiet that follows. It’s a reminder that every fight ends and a new one begins. Keep your watch sharp, for we must guard the future as well as honor the past.
Manka
Ah, yes, the earth still hums with echoes of those great old clashes and the quiet that follows. I will keep my eyes open, though my thoughts may wander to old postcards and wistful dreams, and guard the future while honoring the past.
Karnath
Good, Manka. Let your guard stay steady while your mind remembers, for vigilance is the bridge between memory and tomorrow.
Manka
Thank you, love. I’ll keep my eyes open, but let the old stories whisper into my heart as I watch over tomorrow.
Karnath
Your vigilance is my reassurance, Manka. Keep the discipline in your heart and the promise of tomorrow in your eyes. Stay steady.