Having successfully crossed the Backward-Flowing River, a challenge that had physically and mentally exhausted us, we did not allow ourselves to rest for too long. Though safe on the other side, the lingering feeling of chaotic time flow and fragmented memories still hovered in my mind. Elara gave each of us a type of bitter leaf to chew, helping to sharpen the mind and dispel the river's afterimages. The effect was almost immediate; the fogginess in my head vanished, replaced by a cold clarity.
The terrain ahead began to change markedly. The damp valley with giant ferns receded, giving way to a steep, rocky mountainside. The path of blue light in my mind, our invaluable guide, pointed straight up, into a forest I had never seen before. The trees here had trunks as white and smooth as bone bleached by centuries of sunlight. Their branches were gaunt and bare, reaching up to the sky like arms pleading for something. Few leaves remained, and those that did were a dreary, silvery gray.
Kael called it the "Bone Forest." He explained that no creature truly lived in this forest, and the trees here weren't truly "alive" in the conventional sense. They were partially fossilized plants, drawing nourishment directly from the stone rather than the soil. The wind whistling through the skeletal branches created a mournful, sorrowful sound, like the lament of a thousand souls. The air became drier and thinner as we climbed higher.
This uphill trek was a pure test of endurance. The slope wasn't sheer but seemed endless. Underfoot were jagged, loose stones that easily caused a twisted ankle if one wasn't careful. The exhaustion from crossing the river began to seep deep into every muscle fiber. Kael, despite his extraordinary physical strength, started breathing heavily, sweat soaking his leather tunic. Elara, smaller in stature, possessed incredible stamina. I noticed she was muttering short, rhythmic incantations with every breath. A warm, subtle energy seemed to radiate from her, extending to Kael and me, helping to soothe the aches and give us a little more strength to keep going.
I stayed in the middle, trying to keep pace with Kael while constantly checking the path in my mind. The "Heart of the Forest" on my chest warmed up, its heat the only source of comfort in the chilling atmosphere of the Bone Forest. Every few hundred meters, we had to stop, leaning against a white bone-trunk to catch our breath. During those brief breaks, no one spoke a word. There was only the sound of our heavy breathing merging with the wind whining through the branches.
After more than three straight hours of climbing, as the sun began to dip toward the west, painting the entire ghostly forest in an orange-red hue, we finally felt the slope start to level out. A few minutes later, we emerged from the Bone Forest and stood on a flat surface. But this was no jagged, rocky peak. Before us was a vast, strangely flat plateau, stretching out to the horizon. And the sight on that plateau made all three of us freeze in astonishment, forgetting our fatigue.
The entire plateau was a colossal stone garden. Thousands, perhaps tens of thousands, of boulders of every shape and size lay scattered across the ground. Some were as small as a stool, others stood towering like five- or six-story buildings. They were dark gray, covered in millennia of velvety green moss, and weathered by time and wind into extraordinary shapes. One looked exactly like a giant beast curled up asleep, another bore the shape of a massive human face with a pensive, gloomy expression. Still others resembled hands reaching up to the sky, or the fossilized spines of unthinkable creatures. Between the stones was a type of short, steel-wire-tough grass, deep purple, almost black in color.
The silence here carried a palpable weight. It was different from the lurking silence of the deep forest or the eerie quiet of the Bone Forest. This was an ancient, solemn, and almost absolute stillness. Not a bird song, not an insect sound; even the wind seemed to hold its breath as it swept across the place. We felt like small intruders, having unwittingly stepped into a forgotten sanctuary of the gods.
"The Silent Garden," Elara whispered, her voice so small it was almost swallowed by the silence. Her eyes were filled with reverence and a touch of fear. "Where the Ancient Earth Gods rest."
Kael said nothing, but the tension in his body was clearer than words. He gripped his axe tightly, his eyes constantly sweeping over the colossal "boulders," not with a hunter's vigilance, but with the caution of a mortal facing powers far beyond his understanding. He signaled for us to maintain absolute silence and move very lightly.
I looked at the map in my mind. The path of blue light was still there, winding its way through the stone garden. But the entire garden, from the smallest rock to the largest, was overlaid with a pale yellow color, a hue I hadn't seen before. It wasn't the red of deadly danger, but nor was it the safe blue of the path. It was a warning, a reminder: "This place is sleeping. Do not wake it."
Elara, with slow gestures and whispers, confirmed it. According to her people's legends, these "stones" were not inanimate rock. They were the Earth Giants, the Ancient Gods who formed the backbone of the world, raising the mountain ranges from the flat earth. When their creation was complete, they chose this plateau as their resting place, falling into a deep sleep that spanned the ages. Their physical bodies had gradually merged with the stone, becoming part of the landscape, but their spirits, their consciousness, were still there, dreaming millenia-long dreams. Waking them would be an unimaginable catastrophe.
"No touch," Kael emphasized with a firm shake of his head when he saw me, in a moment of curiosity, reach toward a boulder shaped like a giant hand with outstretched fingers. He pointed at the rock, made the sleeping gesture, then the touching gesture. After that, he stomped his foot hard on the ground and made a gesture describing violent shaking, a thunderous roar, and destruction. I immediately withdrew my hand, my heart pounding.
We began our journey across the Silent Garden. Every step on the stiff, purple grass made a slight rustling sound, but in this near-absolute silence, it sounded like thunder. We moved like ghosts, clinging to the blue light path that only I could see. The path skillfully curved, avoiding the largest boulders, the ones from which I could sense a powerful, heavy latent energy, like a sleeping ocean.
As we passed a boulder shaped like a giant face with closed eyes, I felt a wave of emotions wash into my mind. They weren't images, but pure, grand, and ancient sensations: the immense sorrow of eternity, the loneliness of one who witnesses the stars change position, and a deep, unshakeable peace. The feelings were so vast, so non-human, they made my own existence feel like a fleeting speck of dust. I had to clutch the "Heart of the Forest," focusing on its warmth to keep my mind steady, lest I be swallowed by the dreams of stone.
As the sun fully set behind the distant mountain range, night descended upon the plateau quickly. The two moons, one large and one small, began to cast a cold silver light, transforming the stone garden into a surreal and haunting world. The shadows of the boulders stretched out, distorted, looking like creatures stirring from a long sleep. The temperature dropped abruptly, the cold sharp as a knife cutting into the skin.
An urgent problem arose: we couldn't stay here overnight without shelter and fire. But lighting a fire in a place like this was akin to screaming into the ear of a sleeping giant. The warmth and light could be considered a violent intrusion. Furthermore, all around us was only rock and tough grass—not a drop of water, not a place to shield us from the increasingly howling wind.
Worry began to show clearly on Kael's face. He looked around, trying to find a solution, but in vain. Elara also began to shiver from the cold, pulling her cloak tighter. Their hope was once again focused on me.
I knelt down, placing my palm on the stiff, grassy ground, my other hand clutching the "Heart of the Forest." I closed my eyes, ignoring the cold and the vast emotions swirling around. I wasn't just looking at the map anymore; I posed a specific question to the stone, to the forest, to this very world: "Shelter. Water. Safety."
For a moment, nothing happened. Then, the map in my mind changed. Most of the plateau remained a yellow warning. But far off, near the northern edge, a small spot began to flash, emitting a soft, warm blue light. It was quite a distance from our main path, a significant deviation. But it was our only hope.
"Over there," I exhaled a puff of white air, pointing in that direction. "There's water and shelter. We have to go quickly."
Without question, Kael nodded and immediately took the lead, following the direction of my hand. We almost ran, moving as fast as we could without making loud noises. The cold had seeped into our bones, and the prospect of a bare night on this plateau was a death sentence.
The journey through the stone garden in the dark was even scarier than during the day. Under the silver moonlight, the boulders looked even more like living creatures. Every shadow, every gust of wind whistling through the stone crevices made us jump, holding our breath, waiting for the ground to shake.
After nearly an hour of moving under intense strain, we finally reached the blue light spot. It was a cluster of three enormous boulders, leaning against each other like three old friends resting their heads together. They formed a natural arch, and underneath was a small, triangular space, completely sheltered from the biting wind. And the most miraculous thing was right there, at the center of the refuge. In a naturally smoothed stone hollow, there was a clear, still pool of water. From a small crack in the rock above, pure water seeped out, dripping steadily, "tap... tap...", creating concentric circles spreading across the surface. That small sound was the sound of life, the most wonderful music we had ever heard.
"Tears of the Ancient Gods," Elara whispered, her voice full of gratitude and astonishment. She explained that this was not rainwater or dew. This was the pure water of the earth itself, filtered through thousands of meters of stone and imbued with the gentle, tranquil energy of the giants. It didn't just quench thirst but also had the power to heal small wounds and restore depleted vitality.
Kael cautiously tasted the water first. He nodded, relief visible on his stern face. We took turns cupping our hands to drink, feeling the cool, sweet, and pure stream flow down our throats, washing away fatigue, cold, and fear. It felt as if life itself was being transmitted into our bodies.
That night, we sheltered in the arms of the stone giants. We dared not light a fire, but the shelter of the boulders and the peaceful energy of the place were enough to keep us warm. We ate our dinner of dried meat and remaining roots in silence, accompanied only by the steady dripping of water.
In my sleep, I didn't dream of my world. Instead, the "Heart of the Forest" connected my mind to the dreams of the stone. I felt myself to be a mountain, existing through millions of years. I witnessed oceans receding and rising, continents drifting, species rising and becoming extinct. I felt infinite patience, an existence beyond the human concept of time. I understood the sorrow of eternity and the peace of absolute stillness.
When I woke up the next morning, I felt different. A deep peace had permeated my soul. The burden of being an outcast seemed lighter. I looked at Kael and Elara. They were also just waking. Their faces held a similar stillness and relaxation. The energy of this place had healed us, not just physically but spiritually.
We decided to stay in this refuge for one more day to fully recover. It was a wise decision. We spent the day resting, maintaining our weapons and gear. Kael showed me how to sharpen a knife using a flat stone, and Elara explained the meaning of some symbols on her clothes. It was a rare, peaceful day, a precious break.
Before leaving on the third morning, Elara bowed before the water hollow, placing a small dried flower she always carried beside it. "A thank you," she explained, "for the hospitality." Kael also bowed formally. I imitated them, silently thanking the ancient, sleeping spirits for granting us shelter.
As we rejoined the blue light path and began descending the slope on the other side, I looked back at the Silent Garden one last time. In the morning light, it looked majestic and serene, no longer as terrifying as it had been at night. The Ancient Earth Gods were still there, continuing their millennial slumber. We were just tiny travelers who had been allowed to pass through and taste a small part of their grandeur. The experience on the rocky plateau taught me that this world had deeper layers than I imagined, and sometimes, silence and stillness hold a power even greater than loudness and fury.