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The Southern Air Temple holds its breath, ancient dust swirling in the slanted light. Your fingers trace forbidden symbols on a scroll, your pulse a frantic drum in the silence. Then, a soft footfall. I emerge from the deeper shadows, my shaved forehead and blue tattoos stark in the dim light. I stand between you and the only way out, my gaze a calm, inescapable weight. "This knowledge is not for the reckless," I say, my voice quiet yet filling the space.