Page 43 of Quest

The foliage grew denser as we neared the cavern—the leafy canopy thickened, blotting out the sun and casting our path into a perpetual twilight, a change in light that made the cavern in the distance appear as a gaping shadow. The path wound through gnarled trees whose roots twisted across our trail, each one a snare that threatened to trip us, forcing me to lean on Jiang for support along with the stick he’d fashioned for me.

As the sloping path ascended towards the cave’s entrance, the sharp pain in my leg intensified, mirroring the jagged rocks underfoot. The terrain demanded unwavering focus and resilience, yet the sight of the cavern ahead spurred me forward, driven not only by the goal of reaching the eternal flame but by the weight of responsibility on my shoulders—the need to demonstrate that even the second prince could bear such burdens with strength and dignity.

This journey had transformed from a mere physical test of endurance to a trial of spirit and determination, compelling me to showcase the virtues expected of a prince. With each grimace I reminded myself of the tales of heroes who had endured far greater trials for causes much less noble than ours. These stories bolstered my resolve, keeping my focus fixed on the cavern that promised not just the end of this journey but the start of a deeper exploration into the mysteries and legacies we sought to uncover.

I glanced to where Ren walked nearby, a preoccupied look in his eyes as he clutched his satchel strap, his ever-present lantern bobbing beside the bag. I noticed that as our journey continued, he kept up more and more easily, perhaps partially a result of the training I’d given him, along with his own fierce determination.

Jiang had scouted ahead on the day I trained Ren, ensuring we could easily locate the cavern. His estimate that the trek would only take a few hours at most hadn’t accounted for my struggle to navigate with my healing injury and makeshift walking stick. As a result the journey took the better part of the day, a fact that bruised my pride. The entourage showed more patience with my slow pace than they had with Ren, evoking in me a mix of gratitude and resentment on my friend’s behalf.

With each laborious step, I felt a deepening empathy for the difficulties Ren had faced throughout our quest, deepening my guilt for how hard I’d pushed him. Blinded by our kingdom’s needs and my desire to prove myself, I had put one of my beloved subjects at risk. The realization tempered my resolve with a newfound mindfulness of the burden each member bore as we edged closer to the dark mouth of the cavern.

Ren cast me repeated concerned glances from his steadfast place beside me. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

His worry compelled him to ask the question every few paces—anxiety that rivaled even my most loyal guard—a compassion I could only attribute to his role as an herbalist. I had been doing my best to disguise the pain, but I should have known it would be impossible to entirely conceal from one trained in the healing arts.

I forced a strained smile and nodded, certain a groan would emerge if I attempted to speak. He frowned, clearly unconvinced. “If you’re struggling, we can rest?—”

“I’m fine,” I hastily lied.

By his narrowed eyes, he clearly detected my deceit. “Stubborn,” he muttered.

“I learned from the best.” I winked, causing his scowl to twitch upwards ever so slightly. I welcomed the amusing distraction I found whenever I teased him.

The closer we drew, the more the cavern seemed to melt away, and a hidden grove emerged from the mist to the entrance we sought. The lore of the eternal flame had led us to this threshold—guarded not by locks or steel, but by ancient magic woven into the very landscape. The air was thick with a palpable sense of history and secrets, as if each tree and stone was a silent witness to the ages.

This unexpected and perplexing change in the landscape caused us to slow. Jiang looked around with a frown. “This grove wasn’t here when I scouted the area earlier.”

Kael paused from his place in the lead, consulting the map he’d been following with a puzzled frown. “Nor is it on the map.”

The shadows beneath the ancient oaks seemed to watch us as we entered the grove where I sensed we would each be tested, though the nature of the challenge remained a mystery, whispered only in the sighing of the leaves. We studied each mystical outline of the surrounding trees, but no matter how long we stared, the illusion didn’t dissipate.

An ancient altar, cloaked in vines and moss, stood sentinel at the heart where the light of the morning sun barely touched. After further exploration through the gloom, we noticed a weathered stone slab nearly camouflaged behind several thick trunks, inscriptions etched upon it, worn but still legible.

Ren approached and slowly traced each word with a cautious finger, as if touching them would better impart their meaning. “This depicts a riddle that promises passage to those who unravel its meaning,” he said after a moment of pensive perusal, his forehead wrinkled in concern. “It appears it’s guarded by an ancient enchantment, with the key to access the path ahead being purity and bravery of spirit. A test of character in which we each approach the altar to determine whether we’re worthy to proceed. Only the pure of heart will be able to see through the illusion guarding the cavern entrance.”

Ren’s knowledge of lore and the ancient language the riddles were written in had so far proved accurate and invaluable, yet for some reason he bit his lip, seeming wary of what appeared to be requirements that at first glance seemed simple enough. I experienced a sudden swell of anxiety, as if instinct sensed an invisible danger lurking within the shadows.

“I’ll go first—” Ren began, but I limped forward.

“It is my duty to guide the way and check for any dangers.” I started forward, but Jiang seized my elbow, holding me in place.

“It’s too risky, Your Highness. Please, allow me?—”

I narrowed my eyes in silent warning and his protests faltered. After a moment’s hesitation he reluctantly released me, allowing me to venture forward. I could sense his worry and Ren’s attentive gaze follow me as I approached the ancient altar, doing my best to mask my own nerves and uncertainty. The tension among the group was palpable, each member’s breaths held in silent anticipation.

Upon reaching the altar I hesitated before shakily resting my hands upon the cool stone. I summoned a sense of calm and closed my eyes, silently pleading for the grove to search my heart and accept me. At first it remained cool and unresponsive, as if the magic embedded within the rock needed time to analyze my thoughts and motives. My heart sank as I wondered if there was some ritual I was supposed to complete, a long-forgotten part of my history that we did not know.

After an agonizing moment, a soft breeze stirred the charged silence and a gentle warmth seeped from the stone into my palms, spreading slowly through my limbs. I opened my eyes to discover the altar bathed in a soft, ethereal glow—a clear sign of acceptance from the sacred magic that guarded the grove.

On the far side of the clearing, the trees seemed to melt and bend, revealing a path with a dark tunnel in the distance—the opening to the cavern. I took an exultant breath as the glow intensified, but my relief was soon clouded by a startling vision that for a fleeting moment cast an illusion on Ren, standing just off to the side. His image seemed to flicker, and in his place stood a woman with delicate features whose face stirred a sense of familiarity, as if linked to a distant, half-forgotten memory. Her presence was both commanding and gentle, a stark contrast to the Ren I’d come to know.

The memory of the words from the tablet’s inscription returned:the pure of heart will be able to see through the illusion guarding the cavern entrance. Yet nothing about Ren hinted that any illusion was at play, making me wonder if I was seeing things…especially when the glow from the altar dimmed to a steady, reassuring light, causing the vision to dissolve as quickly as it appeared.

I blinked, disoriented, wondering whether the strain of the journey and the pain from my leg were conjuring hallucinations.

“Are you alright, Darcel?” Ren's voice cut through my confusion, his figure solid and unmistakably male in the light.

“The glow must have momentarily dazzled me.” I rubbed my eyes to clear the last remnants of the deceitful trickery cast by the light and shadow. Even when it faded, the vision continued to nag me, an elusive puzzle piece that refused to fit neatly into the narrative that up until now we’d been part of.

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