Chapter 96
After breakfast, we returned to Master Benedict's study.
Rhaevan opened the parchment and carefully spread it across the table.
The intricate silver lines wound their way across the page with a precision no cartographer could have achieved by hand.
Rhaevan placed the compass beside the parchment and began studying the map, his eyes moving methodically over every inch of it.
Meanwhile, I leaned over his shoulder and contributed in my own highly sophisticated manner.
"It definitely looks... map-shaped."
"...Mmhmm," he hummed without looking up.
Minutes passed. Rhaevan traced one of the rivers with his fingertip before moving to the strange celestial symbols clustered near the upper corner. His brow furrowed. Then his eyes widened.
"...Of course."
He straightened abruptly. "Of course!"
Before I could react, he lightly smacked the heel of his hand against his forehead. "How could I overlook something so obvious?"
I blinked. "What?"
He turned toward me, looking equal parts astonished and annoyed with himself. "It's a living map."
I stared at him. "A..." I paused. "...I'm sorry, a what?"
"A living map." He took a slow breath, visibly collecting his thoughts. "They're exceptionally rare."
I pulled out the chair opposite him and sat down. "So... what exactly makes a map alive?"
"It isn't alive in the literal sense," he explained. "It doesn't think. It doesn't make decisions. But it is enchanted to respond to intent." He rested one hand lightly against the parchment. "A living map doesn't simply display locations. It asks a question."
I frowned. "...What question?"
His gaze lifted to mine. "'What are you truly seeking?' If the answer satisfies the enchantment," he continued, "the map reveals a path."
"And if it doesn't?"
His hand swept lightly across the parchment. "You receive exactly what we had yesterday."
I looked down. "A blank sheet of paper."
He nodded once. "The map isn't protecting a destination. It's judging the seeker."
I looked back at the silver lines spread across the parchment. "So... It believed us?"
"I think..." Rhaevan said thoughtfully, "...it believed you."
I didn't know how to respond to that, so I looked back at the map. Something caught my attention almost immediately. Near the upper-left corner, above the mountain ranges, was a neat row of strange symbols-crescent moons, stars, and circles-geometric markings arranged in deliberate sequences.
I leaned closer. "...Rhaevan."
"Hm?"
"I don't think mountains usually come with decorative astronomy."
His gaze followed mine. The thoughtful look returned to his face as he studied the symbols for a long moment. "They're not decorative. They're another clue."
He reached toward the parchment but stopped just short of touching the symbols. "I think..." he spoke slowly, "...this is a cipher."
"A cipher?"
"An encoded message."
I squinted at the strange arrangement. "Using moons and stars?"
"So it would appear."
I folded my arms. "My ancestors really couldn't have just written things down normally, could they?"
A faint smile touched his lips.
I sighed. The symbols stared back at us-silent, patient, and waiting for someone to understand them.
For the next two hours, we attacked the cipher from every angle we could imagine. Unfortunately, the cipher proved considerably smarter than we were.
Rhaevan began with the obvious. "They could represent constellations." He copied the symbols onto a fresh sheet of parchment before sketching several familiar star charts from memory. One by one, he compared them. Nothing matched.
"Perhaps they're lunar phases?" He frowned. "Unlikely. They're in the wrong sequence." He crossed out another theory.
"What about numbers?" I asked.
"We'll test that next."
We did. Each symbol was assigned a number. We tried reading them forwards and backwards, arranging them in groups, separating the crescents from the stars, and isolating the circles from everything else. Nothing.
"They could be coordinates," I offered.
"Unfortunately, they're not."
I sighed dramatically. "I miss ordinary treasure maps."
The morning drifted quietly into afternoon. Sunlight shifted across the wooden floor, inching steadily toward the study table. Every now and then, one of us would suddenly sit upright with a new idea, only to end up with disappointment.
The pile of failed pages kept growing, and my patience was thinning with it. At one point, I turned the parchment upside down. Then sideways. Then upside down again.
Rhaevan watched the entire process. "...May I ask?"
"You may."
"What exactly are you hoping will happen?"
"I'm trying to confuse it. Maybe it'll accidentally reveal its secrets."
He was silent for several seconds. "...An unconventional strategy."
I rolled my eyes and leaned back with an exaggerated sigh. "My ancestors are exhausting."
"They do appear to have enjoyed puzzles."
"They also appear to have enjoyed making future generations suffer."
Another hour slipped by. By then, the study floor had nearly disappeared beneath scattered pages of copied symbols, crossed-out notes, and increasingly desperate theories.
I dropped the pen onto the table. "I officially accept defeat."
Rhaevan rubbed his temples. "There has to be a pattern. We simply haven't found it."
I looked back at the parchment.
"...Whoever invented this," I muttered, "...was either a genius..."
"...or deeply committed to annoying people. Possibly both."
For a long while, the only sounds in the study were the scratch of Rhaevan's pen and the quiet rustling of parchment as I absentmindedly copied the strange symbols onto yet another clean sheet. Without thinking, I began grouping them differently-not by shape, but by repetition.
One symbol. Then another. Then another.
I stopped. Something about the sequence felt oddly familiar, in the way they were arranged.
I frowned and looked back at the original parchment. "...That's strange."
Rhaevan looked up. "What is?"
I continued staring at the symbols. "I..."
For a moment, I had the distinct impression that I already knew what came next. Then the feeling vanished.
I slowly shook my head. "...Nothing."
Rhaevan studied me for another second before returning to his notes. I looked at the symbols again. They were still unfamiliar.
And yet, somewhere at the back of my mind, something kept insisting otherwise.