Most know nothing of these ruins, or even of their existence, but those with proficiency in History, recall an interesting text they've once read, by a then-young researcher by the name of Surya Vashi:
"In the hushed valley of Alnusiyan, and throughout the Nameless Hills, ancient ruins are scattered – skeletal monuments to a civilization swallowed by dust and whispers. Those aren't tourist trap castles, crumbling with age and overrun with pigeons. No, these are granite-fisted secrets, gnawed at by time. Locals, whatever few that reside near, wouldn't touch 'em with a ten-foot rake, but for those with a hunger for the past, like me, they sing a siren song of intrigue.
Scholars still argue over these ruins. Were they a part of ancient Edge, or rivals, locked in a shadow war before the ink even dried on history's first scroll? One thing's for sure: the Everlasting Flame's arrival, a thousand years back, was the ancient swan song for that old culture, whatever it may have been.
Shards of pottery lie scattered like teeth knocked out in a bar brawl, and on crumbling walls cryptic symbols writhe like ghosts, hinting at astronomers who mapped the movement of the suns long before the proud scholars of today came to believe they invented the practice. And of course, there are the rumors, slithering through the halls of study like smoke, of forbidden magics practiced under long-dead gods.
My own discoveries led me to believe the end was a sudden, violent end, etched in the very marrow of the ruins. War, some say, unleashed by the Everlasting Flame. Others whisper of something darker, a rot from within that consumed them from the inside out. I suppose I'll have to find out...
So, here I stand, at the precipice of history's forgotten chapter. The ruins beckon, half-promises of buried truths and dusty treasures. But I must tread carefully. These shadows ain't just cobwebs and memories. They hold the echoes of a tragedy that swallowed a nation whole, and might very well could swallow me as well."