The Map That Should Not Exist

The Wandering Scribe had learned three important things during his travels.

First, never trust a merchant who claims an artifact is cursed but offers it at a discount.

Second, never follow mysterious lights into a forest after sunset.

And third, when an ancient ruin has been deliberately erased from every map, there is usually a very good reason.

Unfortunately, the third lesson had arrived too late.

The trouble began in the dusty market town of Merrow's Crossing, where the Scribe had stopped to escape a thunderstorm rolling across the eastern mountains. He had intended to spend the evening repairing the straps on his leather satchel, copying his notes, and enjoying a bowl of hot stew.

Instead, he found himself staring at a map that had been hidden inside a dead man's walking stick.

The map was unlike anything he had encountered before. Its parchment was black as midnight, yet its markings shimmered like silver beneath the candlelight. Strange symbols surrounded a drawing of a circular city, enclosed by seven towers.

At the bottom, written in a language the Scribe had not seen since studying the oldest inscriptions in the Royal Archive, were twelve words.

When the last bell sounds, the forgotten city shall awaken.

He traced the lettering with one finger.

"Where did you find this?" he asked the innkeeper.

The old woman crossed herself in the local fashion.

"I didn't. A traveler left it here thirty years ago. He said someone would eventually come looking for it."

"Who was he?"

The innkeeper hesitated.

"A man who claimed to have visited a city that did not exist."

Outside, thunder shook the shutters.

The Scribe looked again at the map. A thin silver line had appeared beneath his fingertip, stretching from Merrow's Crossing into the great desert beyond the eastern mountains.

At its end was a single word.

Remember.

He smiled despite himself.

"Well," he murmured, rolling the map carefully, "I suppose my evening plans have changed."

He had no idea that someone in the darkness beyond the inn's window had been watching him.

Nor did he hear the whisper that followed him upstairs.

"The city has chosen another."