The old gods were not dead.
They were buried in language.
Ramsley believed the texts were not records of magic — they were containers for it.
To him, every tomb was a locked door.
Every word was a remaining pulse.
And if enough of them were opened, something ancient would answer.
“The old gods live in these texts,” Ramsley ascribed, his eyes returning to a sizzled urgency, “and I will bring them back to life… one way or another… even if we must upturn a thousand more tombs – we will unveil the magic that lives in these words.”
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