John barely slept that night.
It wasn't because he was afraid of what waited in the northern hills. He had faced creatures far more dangerous than anything an old road could offer, and the thought of another ancient mystery didn't frighten him by itself.
What bothered him was the memory.
*If you are hearing this, then I failed to arrive.*
The figure had sounded tired. Not like someone who had spent a few days traveling, but like someone who had carried the weight of a decision for far too long.
And there had been something else.
The memory had not ended naturally. It had been interrupted just before the figure revealed their name. The black crystal couldn't explain why, and John wasn't convinced it was a simple malfunction.
Someone, or something, had prevented the rest of the message from being heard.
By sunrise, John had already made up his mind.
They would follow the old road.
However, before leaving Bellhaven, he wanted to find out what had happened to the marker.
---
