An Explorer’s Discovery…

I have uncovered something that defies explanation. Hidden deep within the caves along the northern shore, I have stumbled upon an inscription older than the histories we know. The stone is worn, yet the markings remain, a warning? A map? I cannot say. But I feel as though I was meant to find it, as though the earth itself whispered the way.

The journey here was not an easy one. The path twisted through dense forest, the roots rising like the grasping hands of the forgotten. Each step felt heavier as if unseen eyes watched my every move. The air grew thick with an unnatural stillness the deeper I ventured. It was as if the land itself knew I was drawing closer to something long left undisturbed.

I had first heard whispers of this place from an old fisherman who spoke in hushed tones, fearful of what might awaken if one listened too closely. He told of travelers who had come before me, those who sought the same hidden truths but never returned. They spoke of a cave where the light of the stars revealed what the sun could not. It was said that only those who walked the path of the ancients would see the way forward, while others would be lost to the dark.

The entrance was nearly impossible to find, shrouded in mist and shadowed by jagged cliffs. I might have passed it by entirely had it not been for the sudden break in the silence, a whisper, or perhaps a trick of the wind, that led my gaze to a narrow passage, barely wide enough for one to squeeze through. My torch flickered as I pressed inside, the damp air carrying the scent of salt and earth.

Deeper in, the walls were carved with symbols, the meanings of which escape me. But one marking stood out among the rest, a series of interwoven lines, forming a shape I cannot fully describe, as though it shifts each time I look at it. When I traced my fingers along the grooves, the stone beneath me trembled. A deep hum resonated through the chamber, and for a fleeting moment, I swore I saw the walls ripple like the surface of water disturbed.

Something is here. Something waiting.

I should have turned back, but curiosity is a cruel master. I pressed onward, each step taking me closer to the heart of the cavern. There, beneath an archway that seemed impossibly ancient, I found the inscription. The words, though weathered, were still legible: “The truth lies in the path where the stars align.”

A riddle, a warning, or perhaps an invitation? I cannot say. But I fear I am not alone in this place. Shadows move where no light reaches, and the whispers are growing louder. The deeper I venture, the more I sense that I am being followed. Not by another traveler, but by something else, something unseen, lingering in the periphery of my vision, slipping just beyond my reach whenever I turn to face it.

I have discovered more markings, scattered along the tunnel walls, some depicting strange constellations, others portraying figures bowing before what appears to be a gateway of some kind. I recognize none of these formations in our charts, yet they seem eerily familiar. Could it be that these were once visible in the skies above? Have the heavens shifted so much since their time that they are now unrecognizable?

My supplies are dwindling, but I cannot leave yet. Not now. I have the distinct feeling that I am close to something greater than I ever imagined. If this is a map, then it leads to something beyond my understanding, beyond what I dared to believe possible. The air hums with an energy I cannot define, and though fear gnaws at the edges of my mind, I cannot turn back.

The deeper I travel, the more erratic my surroundings become. The walls, once solid and steady, now seem to shift, and the ground beneath me feels unsteady, as though I walk upon something that does not wish to be disturbed. There is an unnatural pull in this place, a force that tugs at the very core of me, urging me forward while warning me to flee. It is a paradox, a trap of my own making, I know that I should turn back, yet I cannot bring myself to do so.

I have begun to hear whispers, not from the wind, nor from my own mind, but from the walls themselves. The language is foreign, yet I feel as if I should understand it, as if some buried part of me recognizes the voices. They speak of choices made and paths walked, of destinies interwoven like the constellations above. I do not know whether to listen or to cover my ears and run.

Then, in the farthest reaches of the cave, I find it. A door, or what I believe to be a door, though it does not open in the way doors should. It is not of stone or wood, but of something else, something that hums with power and shifts when I try to focus on it. I do not know how to open it, nor whether I should. But the markings surrounding it confirm my suspicions. This is what the ancients sought to protect.

I leave this letter behind in case I do not return. If you find it, know that I followed the signs. If you dare seek what I have sought, look for the path where the stars align, where the whispers of the past still echo in the wind.

And one last thing,

Do not trust the golden path. It is not what it seems.