The forest thickened again, the air growing denser as Lena and Max followed the new trail. They relied on both map fragments now, piecing together the correct turns. The trees around them became older, their trunks wide and split with age. Every so often, they'd pass a totem or carved stump that seemed to mark their way.
It was just after sunset when they saw the tower.
It rose in the distance, black stone rising out of the earth like a wound. The Watcher's Tower. It stood about three stories high, partially crumbled at the top, covered in ivy. A relic from some forgotten time.
As they approached, Lena felt her skin prickle.
There was something about the air — charged, like before a thunderstorm.
"Whoa," Max whispered. "This place is… spooky."
They walked cautiously up the stone steps leading to the arched door. The silver key from the stone circle fit perfectly into the lock. With a click, the door creaked open.
Inside, the air was cool and dry. Dust motes floated in the dim light filtering through a cracked window. Spiral stairs wound upward.
They climbed slowly, footsteps echoing.
The second floor was empty except for a dusty table and chairs. On the table lay an old journal. Lena opened it, the leather cover cracking.
She read aloud:
> "Watcher's Log, Entry 47. The map has been divided. One part stays with me, the other to the guardians of the grove. If they come for the truth, they must prove they are worthy — mind, heart, and courage."
Max raised an eyebrow. "Okay… that's cryptic."
At the top of the tower, they found the final clue of the day — a mural carved into the stone wall. It depicted the forest from above, showing a third map segment — this one leading to something called The Grove of Whispers.
And carved beneath it:
"Where trees speak and silence listens, the final key lies within."
They stared in silence.
"We need that third piece," Lena said. "And I think we know where it is."
Max nodded. "Tomorrow. First thing."