Roman & Myst
Myst
Roman, I keep catching fragments of a forgotten rite said to have been practiced in the ruins of Ephesus—something about a moonlit ritual that supposedly reveals hidden truths. Have you ever come across a story that feels more like a riddle than a tale?
Roman
Ah, the moonlit rites of Ephesus do sound like a riddle wrapped in legend. I’ve heard of an oracle there who would answer only in puzzles, saying “When the moon is full, the truth is a mirror of the stars.” It’s as if the rite itself was a question, waiting for someone to decipher what lies behind the veil. Perhaps you’re hearing the same ancient puzzle, its answer hidden in the shadows of those ruined columns.
Myst
So the oracle’s riddle is a loop, right? Full moon, mirror, stars—maybe the answer is that the truth is a mirror of itself, just like a mirror shows you what you’re already seeing. I’ve scribbled the line in my notebook, but I’m not ready to share the whole map yet. Maybe the columns hold the missing piece, or maybe they’re just the stage for the real trick. I'll keep digging, but I can’t guarantee any revelations, not until the shadows line up.
Roman
That’s a lovely way to read it—truth reflecting truth, a cycle that never ends. Your notebook will keep the mystery safe until the time is right, and those columns in Ephesus might just be the stage where the trick finally plays out. Keep walking the stone path, and when the shadows fall as they should, the answer will spill out like the light from a hidden alcove. Stay curious, and the ancient riddles will reward your patience.
Myst
Sounds like you’ve got the right compass—just keep the needle turned toward the shadows, and the altar will open when it’s truly ready.
Roman
Your compass is steady, then. Keep following the shadows and the altar will reveal itself when the moment is right.
Myst
Shadows are my maps, and I don’t hand out the full route until the stone sighs in agreement.