The forest was quiet but wrong
Birdsong stopped three days ago
Even the wind seemed to hold its breath
Azel and Aya traveled alone now
No more shadows no more trackers
Just distance and silence
Then came the jingle of bells
Faint but deliberate
From behind a dead tree stepped a man with too many rings and a smile too wide
He wore a patchwork coat made of failed contracts and whispered names
The merchant
No title no nation no soul
Aya stepped forward instantly tense
I know you
You sell maps to graves
He bowed low
And you always return for more
Azel studied the man eyes narrowed
What do you want
The merchant grinned
To give
Or rather trade
He pulled out a scroll sealed in wax made from forgotten wax
Its edges bled shadow
This
Is the route to the Forgotten Capital
The last system before the world was rewritten
Azel frowned
That place doesn't exist
The merchant's smile widened
Of course not
Until someone opens it again
Aya whispered
What's the cost
The merchant leaned in
A memory
Any memory
The more painful the more accurate the map
Azel didn't hesitate
He placed a silver shard on the table
The sound it made hurt
It was the day he buried his brother
The merchant shivered
Delicious
He handed over the scroll
Beware
Once you enter the capital the world will remember what it tried to forget
He vanished into the trees
Leaving behind only the smell of burnt pages
Aya touched the scroll
It pulsed once
Alive
Azel looked toward the mountains
Then let's go wake the dead