Chapter 179 - 174: The Old Trail
Morning came slowly to the mountain camp.
A thin layer of mist covered the clearing, drifting between the trees and settling over the nearby stream. The air was noticeably colder than it had been in Riverside Village.
John stepped outside his tent and immediately pulled his cloak tighter around himself.
"Cold."
He breathed into his hands.
A voice came from behind him.
"You’ve been spoiled by warmer weather."
Lythriel walked past carrying two cups.
She handed one to him.
"Tea."
John accepted it gratefully.
"You’re becoming very thoughtful."
"Don’t get used to it."
She sat beside the campfire.
"I just made too much."
John smiled.
"Of course."
---
The camp slowly came alive.
Researchers emerged from their tents.
Guards checked their equipment.
The cooks prepared breakfast.
The horses remaining with the expedition were fed before being returned to the lower camp.
John noticed Commander Gareth speaking with the scouts.
Something about their conversation seemed different.
More serious.
After a few minutes, Gareth called everyone together.
"We’re changing today’s route."
A few people looked surprised.
Gareth unfolded the map.
"The trail ahead has become unstable."
"We received word from the scouts this morning that part of the main path collapsed during the night."
John frowned.
"How much?"
"Enough that the wagons couldn’t have passed."
Gareth pointed toward another route.
"We’ll take an older trail through the forest."
"According to the maps, it eventually reconnects with the main route."
Darius, standing nearby, looked at the map carefully.
"According to which map?"
Gareth looked toward him.
"The latest survey."
Darius nodded.
"Then we should be careful."
John noticed his expression.
"What?"
Darius pointed to the older trail.
"This route was abandoned a long time ago."
"Why?"
"Unknown."
"That’s reassuring."
Lythriel muttered.
Darius smiled faintly.
"Fortunately, abandoned doesn’t necessarily mean dangerous."
Gareth folded the map.
"We’ll have scouts ahead."
"If the trail becomes unsafe, we’ll turn back."
That settled the matter.
---
After breakfast, the expedition began moving again.
The new trail was immediately narrower than the previous one.
Branches hung low over the path.
Roots crossed the ground.
Moss-covered stones made the terrain slippery.
Progress became slower.
Eric frequently stopped to record measurements.
John stayed near him.
"This trail isn’t on the modern map."
John observed.
"No."
Eric replied.
"That’s why I’m documenting it."
John looked around.
"Do you think anyone still uses it?"
"Maybe hunters."
"Or perhaps nobody has for decades."
---
After another hour, they discovered evidence that someone had indeed used the trail.
A small pile of stones had been arranged beside the path.
Not naturally.
Someone had deliberately stacked them.
Eric crouched beside them.
"Trail marker."
John examined the arrangement.
"There are three stones."
"Does that mean something?"
Eric shrugged.
"Different regions use different systems."
Darius approached.
"These aren’t local."
Everyone looked at him.
He pointed toward the stones.
"This style was used by mountain surveyors about three hundred years ago."
John frowned.
"How do you know?"
"I’ve seen similar markers in old expedition records."
Darius carefully looked down the trail.
"If these were made by surveyors..."
"Then this wasn’t originally a hunting trail."
John’s interest increased.
"It was an expedition route."
"Probably."
Darius stood.
"But why was it abandoned?"
Nobody had an answer.
---
The expedition continued.
The forest grew denser.
The mountainside rose gradually.
By midday, the group reached a small clearing.
A stone structure stood near its center.
At first, John thought it was another natural formation.
Then he saw the straight edges.
Walls.
Broken walls.
A small ruined shelter was almost completely covered by vines and moss.
Commander Gareth immediately ordered everyone to stop.
"Researchers."
"Take a look."
John approached carefully.
Aldric’s lessons immediately came back to him.
Observe before acting.
Record before moving.
He didn’t touch anything.
Instead, he walked slowly around the structure.
"Small building."
He said.
"Probably a shelter."
Darius examined one of the remaining walls.
"Not a permanent settlement."
"Agreed."
John pointed toward the fireplace.
"There."
A small stone hearth remained intact.
"It was used by travelers."
Eric examined the ground nearby.
"There are several old post holes."
"Could have supported a roof."
John wrote everything down.
The ruin wasn’t impressive.
No magical artifact.
No hidden chamber.
No ancient weapon.
Just a small shelter forgotten by time.
Yet John found himself fascinated.
People had stood here.
They had traveled through these mountains centuries ago.
Perhaps they had experienced the same cold mornings.
The same difficult trails.
Maybe they had even sat around the same fire.
History suddenly felt much closer.
---
Miriam’s voice echoed in his memory.
*"Sometimes the ordinary objects are the most meaningful."*
John smiled faintly.
He carefully sketched the ruined shelter.
Darius watched him work.
"You’ve learned quickly."
John looked up.
"I’m trying."
"That’s enough."
---
The expedition spent nearly an hour documenting the structure.
No one removed anything.
No one disturbed the ground.
When they finally left, John looked back one last time.
The shelter disappeared behind the trees.
Perhaps someday another expedition would find it.
And perhaps...
They would know who had documented it first.
---
By late afternoon, the terrain became considerably steeper.
The old trail climbed toward a rocky ridge.
The guards moved ahead carefully.
Everyone was tired.
The morning detour had cost them time.
Commander Gareth eventually called for another break.
John sat on a large rock and drank from his waterskin.
Lythriel dropped beside him.
"I officially dislike this mountain."
John laughed.
"We’re only on the second day."
"Exactly."
She pointed toward the peak.
"It’s still going up."
John looked toward the mountain.
"That’s usually how mountains work."
She stared at him.
"You’re becoming like Aerion."
John smiled.
"That’s worrying."
---
Suddenly, a shout came from farther ahead.
"Stop!"
Everyone froze.
Commander Gareth immediately stood.
The guards moved forward.
John waited.
A few moments later, one of the scouts returned.
"Nothing dangerous."
"There’s a cliff ahead."
"The trail has collapsed."
Gareth frowned.
"How far?"
"About fifty meters."
"Can we go around?"
"Yes."
"But it’ll add several hours."
A murmur passed through the group.
Gareth considered the options.
Then he nodded.
"We go around."
No argument.
Safety came first.
---
The detour led them through a narrow section of forest.
The sun was already beginning to lower by the time they reached another clearing.
The terrain here was flatter.
More importantly...
There were signs of an old campsite.
A ring of stones.
Several broken wooden stakes.
And something else.
John crouched beside one of the stakes.
It had a symbol carved into it.
The same circle crossed by three lines.
He stared at it.
"Lythriel."
She came over.
"You found something?"
John pointed.
Her expression changed.
"That’s the same symbol."
Darius quickly approached.
He examined the stake.
"This is older."
"Much older than the stone marker."
John looked at him.
"How old?"
Darius didn’t answer immediately.
He carefully brushed away some dirt from the base.
"The wood is too damaged to tell."
"But the carving..."
He looked toward the mountains.
"...could be over a thousand years old."
John’s heartbeat quickened.
A thousand years.
This wasn’t a random trail marker.
Someone had been traveling through these mountains long before the modern kingdom existed.
And they had used the same symbol.
---
Commander Gareth was informed.
He studied the carving.
"Can we investigate?"
Darius shook his head.
"Not properly."
"We’re losing daylight."
Gareth nodded.
"Then mark it."
John immediately took out his journal.
He carefully recorded the location.
The symbol.
The surrounding terrain.
The position of the old campsite.
Everything.
Before leaving, he looked at the carving one final time.
There was something strangely familiar about it.
Not the symbol itself.
The feeling.
It reminded him of something buried deep within his memories.
Something he couldn’t quite reach.
---
The expedition established camp shortly afterward.
This time, everyone was exhausted.
Dinner was quiet.
People went to sleep early.
John sat beside the fire with his journal.
He stared at the page for several minutes.
Then he wrote.
---
**Day Eight – Old Trail**
*We found another abandoned structure today.*
*Later, we discovered an old campsite.*
*The same symbol from yesterday was carved into one of the wooden stakes.*
*Darius believes it may be more than a thousand years old.*
*There are too many coincidences now.*
*Someone traveled through these mountains long ago.*
*Someone who used this symbol repeatedly.*
He paused.
Then added:
*I don’t know who they were.*
*But I think we’re following their footsteps.*
John closed the journal.
Across the camp, Darius was sitting alone, staring at his own notes.
Their eyes met briefly.
Neither spoke.
They didn’t need to.
Both had reached the same conclusion.
The expedition wasn’t the first group to search these mountains.
Not even close.
---
Later that night, John woke suddenly.
He didn’t know why.
The camp was silent.
Everyone was asleep.
The fire had burned down to glowing embers.
John stepped outside his tent.
The Soul Raven sat on a tree branch.
It was staring toward the darkness.
John followed its gaze.
Nothing.
Then—
A faint sound echoed through the forest.
Not a roar.
Not a growl.
Something softer.
A distant metallic ringing.
*Clink.*
John froze.
A second sound followed.
*Clink.*
Like metal striking stone.
He looked toward the mountains.
The Soul Raven spread its wings.
But this time...
It didn’t fly away.
It simply watched.
John slowly returned to his tent.
Whatever was making that sound...
It wasn’t close enough to be a threat.
Not yet.
But for the first time since entering the foothills, John realized something.
They weren’t alone in these mountains.
---
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