The dawn filtered through the leaves, bathing the path in a pale golden glow. Hans walked behind Lysandra, trying to keep pace without tripping over the roots protruding from the ground. Despite the morning chill, the air was thick with barely contained tension.

  "Tell me something," Hans said after a while in silence. "This 'task' you mentioned… does it involve transporting something or escorting someone?"

  Lysandra neither stopped nor turned her head. Her response was curt, devoid of patience:

  "I didn’t ask for your help, so don’t expect answers."

  Hans pressed his lips together. Her attitude didn’t surprise him, but he didn’t like being left in uncertainty either. Before he could insist, Lysandra sighed and added:

  "The only thing you need to know is that if you’re coming, you’ll have to help transport a package. Nothing more."

  Hans raised an eyebrow.

  "Right, that sounds completely innocent. I’m sure it’s just a simple errand and not something that could get us into mortal trouble, right?"

  Lysandra cast him a sidelong glance, making it clear she had no interest in arguing.

  "We still have a long way ahead. Walk!"

  The path Lysandra had chosen was far from the most traveled. Winding and narrow trails wove through the underbrush, where wild grass grew freely, concealing ancient roads that seemed long forgotten. In some stretches, the silence became eerie: neither birdsong nor the rustling of leaves disturbed the stillness. Hans noticed, to his unease, that even the wind seemed to avoid these routes.

  As they advanced, he spotted remnants of what might have once been a well-paved road—moss-covered stones jutting out from the earth, and in certain places, rotted wooden posts with inscriptions too eroded to read. As if this path had belonged to someone… and had then been deliberately erased from the map.

  The journey continued with the chatter of birds, their songs almost resembling a conversation. As if they were discussing the events unfolding in the forest and beyond. Hans, ever eager to fill the silence with words, took advantage of the quiet atmosphere to speak.

  "You know, before the illegal race, I was in a tavern on the outskirts of Avalon. I thought I saw you there, but you weren’t alone."

  Lysandra didn’t stop, but her response was immediate and firm:

  "Impossible. I don’t like crowded places, and I don’t know what you’re talking about."

  Hans tilted his head, unconvinced.

  "You seemed quite busy with a rather dangerous-looking fellow. Then again, I suppose there are plenty of women with your sharp attitude and mysterious air."

  Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author's preferred platform and support their work!

  Lysandra let out a short exhale, as if the conversation wasn’t even worth her time. Hans got the message but couldn’t help but smirk.

  "Alright, my apologies."

  Around them, the vegetation thickened in places, forcing them to walk in single file. There were traces of ancient stone routes half-buried under vines, suggesting that this path had once been more frequented.

  "Looks like someone used this before," Hans said, nudging a rock peeking through the foliage.

  "A long time ago," Lysandra replied in a low voice. "And we don’t want them using it again."

  Hans felt a shiver run down his spine. He wasn’t sure if it was because of the implied warning in her words or the feeling that, at any moment, they might encounter someone who didn’t want them there.

  He paused briefly, scanning the forest around him. Something felt off. It wasn’t just the sense of treading a path that wasn’t meant to be found—it was the way the shadows seemed to stretch unnaturally between the trees, as if something was watching them.

  A thought crossed his mind like a silent warning: this simple favor might just be the tip of the iceberg.

  Hans had a feeling that what he was doing wasn’t just a small act of assistance. That something deeper was hidden within Lysandra’s mission. However, between his adventurous spirit and innate curiosity, he decided to ignore the questions for now.

  After all, he’d come this far without overthinking. What could possibly go wrong?

  And with that thought lingering in his mind, he continued following Lysandra, unaware that the true danger had yet to reveal itself.

  Suddenly, they noticed a grave at the center of a small altar, completely claimed by nature. Roots coiled over the stone, moss and vines obscured most of the inscriptions. Despite her hurry, Lysandra decided to stop.

  Hans narrowed his eyes and read aloud, trying to decipher the timeworn words:

  "Where water falls and never returns,

  An echo answers when gold is kissed.

  Two mouths it has, yet one is fatal,

  Who seeks the key must never leap."

  The wind stirred the leaves around them, as if the forest itself had heard the words. Hans and Lysandra exchanged a glance, but neither spoke immediately.

  "Any idea what it means?" Hans asked after a moment.

  Lysandra shook her head.

  "Not yet."

  Hans studied the inscription again.

  "It speaks of a place with two entrances… maybe a waterfall or a river."

  "Or maybe none of that," Lysandra replied. "We have no way of knowing yet."

  Hans sighed and ran his hand over the moss-covered stone.

  "Well, we won’t solve it here. But I’ll remember it."

  Lysandra nodded and stepped away from the grave.

  "So will I."

  There was nothing more to be done here. Without understanding the meaning of the riddle, the only thing they could do was commit it to memory. Someday, in the least expected moment, the words of the inscription might make sense.

  Hans took one last look at the altar before following Lysandra.

  They had barely walked a few steps when they spotted another inscription on the stone, partially hidden by foliage. Hans brushed the leaves aside and read aloud:

  "When the sun declines and the shadow of the first mouth marks the way,

  A hidden path shall be unveiled.

  Two stone guardians shall seal its threshold,

  Yet if dawn finds you there, you shall find nothing."

  Hans felt another shiver crawl up his spine.

  "This isn’t just a warning," he murmured. "It’s an instruction."

  Lysandra frowned.

  "It speaks of a shadow marking the path. If the first riddle mentions a waterfall or a river, then the shadow might point to a second entrance."

  "And it mentions two stone guardians…" Hans glanced around. "They could be statues or… stones arranged in a particular way."

  Lysandra observed the altar with renewed interest.

  "We’ll only know when the time is right."

  Hans nodded, feeling that the mystery was far from over.

  "We leave for now," Lysandra said firmly. "But when the time comes, we will return."

  And so, with the certainty that this place still held secrets, they resumed their march, unaware that fate would inevitably lead them back to that forgotten grave.