Sheera stood at the edge of the cliff, the remnants of an ancient civilization stretching out below him. The horizon was dimly lit by the fractured beams of the dawn, the sky a delicate blend of gray and amber. The faint sound of waves crashing against the rocks below seemed to echo with memories—a distant call from another time.

The map had led him here, to this desolate coast far from any known city. Holding it tightly, Sheera took a deep breath, his fingers grazing the worn edges. There was something etched into the parchment, words in a language he didn’t understand. Yet he felt a pull, as though the map itself had chosen him to uncover what lay ahead.

He moved forward, stepping carefully down a narrow, weathered path carved into the rock face. As he descended, he noticed strange carvings on the walls. Symbols he didn’t recognize but felt oddly familiar, like a memory he couldn't quite grasp. His instincts told him to be cautious, but curiosity pushed him onward.

At the base of the cliff was a vast cavern, partially hidden by overgrown vines and moss. The entrance was guarded by two towering statues, their faces obscured by the ravages of time. Each held a stone spear crossed over the entryway, an ominous warning to any who dared enter.

Sheera slipped inside, his footsteps barely a whisper in the cavern’s silence. The air was thick with the scent of damp earth, and as his eyes adjusted to the dimness, he noticed flickers of light on the walls—strange bioluminescent symbols that pulsed gently, illuminating his path.

Suddenly, a voice echoed from deeper within the cavern. It was soft, almost ethereal, and barely discernible over the steady drip of water from the cave ceiling. He couldn’t understand the words, but their tone was pleading, almost mournful, as though calling for someone lost to time.

He pressed on, following the voice through a series of twisting tunnels. The bioluminescent symbols began to take shape, forming intricate patterns that guided him deeper. Finally, he entered a vast chamber bathed in a soft blue glow. At its centre stood an ancient pedestal, surrounded by a circular pool of still, dark water.

On the pedestal lay a single artefact—a shard of glass, no bigger than his hand, faintly glowing with a pulsing light. When Sheera reached out toward it, he felt a kind of energy, a recognition that sent a shiver down his spine. The shard was warm to the touch; its surface was an arrangement of tiny shifting symbols like they were arranged by his very touch.

The voice cleared, but he understood it. No, it was not a voice; he understood it. A memory of a time before the world had torn itself apart; a memory before the dawn had forgotten. He remembered an era long lost, carried through these pieces: stories of the people whose hopes and fears were printed into this artefact.

And in his hand, the shard would provoke more visions: like cities loomed in torchlight and life; people toiling together, a purposeful community; then darkness. Sweeping everything away, like some storm. Forgotten Dawn—a time lost, erased from history, yet preserved in the echoes of this place.

He felt a sudden chill, a shock run through his body, breaking a trance. He threw a look backwards over the shoulder toward the entrance. He felt himself watched by a face, blindly sensed. Dimming light shone from the cavern where he could make out an impression of a figure-drinking with shadows, their face buried beneath the hood.

"You're looking for the past, Sheera," the voice was low and steady, echoing off the walls of the chamber. "But the past has a way of tracking you down, too."

Before Sheera could say anything, the figure disappeared, dissolved into shadows as if they had never existed. He grasped the shard tightly. Its light faded in his hand. This path back seemed darker now. The cavern seemed colder. Yet he knew there was no return.

Clutching the shard close, Sheera turned for one final glance at the chamber; the weight of memories he carried was almost too much to bear. The Forgotten Dawn was no longer something lost in mystery; it became a part of him now. And as he headed back up into the living world, his journey had merely started. Echoes of the past would find him, walking him toward a destiny he was just starting to discover.