5.- The Door

The tense calm that followed the brutal skirmish with the Four-Eyed Wolves was, in a way, more unsettling than the din of battle. The silence of the Enchanted Forest, previously broken by howls and snarls, now seemed pregnant with hidden threats. Sebastian, his hands still trembling and his mind replaying the images of the fight over and over, tried to focus on the immediate task: survival.

"We should move," Roland said, breaking the silence. His voice, though usually firm, betrayed the fatigue and pain he undoubtedly felt in his injured arm. "This clearing isn't safe. And we need a place to tend to Markus and Liam."

Markus, who had slumped against a tree trunk, his injured leg stretched out in front of him and his face contorted in a grimace of pain, nodded with a grunt. Liam, leaning against a nearby tree, bit his lip, his face pale and an expression of exhaustion in his normally lively eyes.

They began to walk, or rather, to hobble, struggling to follow the trail left by the goblins before the attack. Progress was slow and arduous. Markus limped noticeably, leaning heavily on his hammer, and each step seemed to cost him a superhuman effort. Liam, with his left arm useless, stumbled occasionally, and had to take frequent breaks to catch his breath. Roland, although trying to maintain an appearance of strength, couldn't hide the tension in his shoulders and the worry in his eyes.

Sebastian, despite not being physically injured, felt exhausted. The adrenaline of the battle had evaporated, leaving him with a feeling of emptiness and nausea. I'll never get used to this, he thought bitterly. The violence, the blood, the fear... It's not for me.

As they walked, Sebastian tried to distract himself by focusing on the environment. He observed the plants growing around them, searching for one that could be useful for healing his companions' wounds. But his mind, clouded by fatigue and trauma, couldn't identify anything beyond the most common species.

Suddenly, he stopped dead. Something had caught his attention.

"Wait," he said, his voice low but urgent.

The others stopped and looked at him, with expressions ranging from irritation (Markus) to curiosity (Liam).

"What is it, Sebastian?" Roland asked, with a sigh. "Have you seen another poisonous plant?"

Sebastian shook his head. "No," he said. "It's the trail. Or, rather, a trail."

He crouched down, examining the ground carefully. The goblins' trail, though blurred by the recent struggle, was still visible: rough footprints, broken branches, scraps of food... But, superimposed on this trail, there was another. One much more subtle, much more... elegant.

A few leaves, not crushed but cut cleanly. A small patch of mud, not disturbed but displaced carefully. A branch, not broken but split with precision, as if someone had wanted to mark the way without leaving an obvious trace.

"This trail isn't from the goblins," Sebastian said, pointing to the marks with the tip of his knife. "It's different. More... delicate. Look here." He crouched even lower, almost pressing his nose to the ground. "The footprints are small, narrow, with a shape... almost human. But not quite. And look at the branches. They aren't broken by brute force, like the goblins would do. They're cut. With a sharp tool. And with... intention."

Roland came closer and crouched beside him, examining the marks with a frown. "You have a good eye, lad," he said, after a moment. "I hadn't noticed. Too worried about the goblins, I suppose." He straightened up, with a grimace of pain. "But what does it mean? Who made this trail?"

Markus grunted. "Hunters," he said, in his hoarse voice. "Or poachers. None of our business."

Liam, however, seemed intrigued. "Perhaps," he said. "Or perhaps it's something more... interesting." He approached the trail and followed it with his gaze, to where it disappeared into the thick of the forest. "This trail goes in the opposite direction of the goblins'," he pointed out. "It leads deeper into the forest."

Roland hesitated. His mission was to investigate the goblins, not to chase mysterious trails. But, on the other hand, the idea of passing up a possible clue, a possible threat, unsettled him.

"What do you suggest, Sebastian?" Roland asked, turning his gaze to the herbalist. It was a genuine question, not a test. Roland, despite his experience, recognized the value of Sebastian's knowledge.

Sebastian bit his lip, indecisive. On the one hand, he felt a deep relief at the prospect of moving away from the goblins' trail. On the other, curiosity, that force that had driven him to study plants and their secrets, pushed him to follow the new trail.

"I don't know, Roland," he admitted. "But... there's something strange about this trail. Something that doesn't fit. And I think we should find out what it is." He looked at Markus and Liam, seeking their support.

Liam smiled. "I'm fine with it," he said. "It's always better to know what's ahead of us, than to be caught by surprise."

Markus, however, was still doubtful. "It's a waste of time," he grumbled. "And we're injured. We need to rest and heal, not chase ghosts."

A tense silence fell. Roland, his face clouded by doubt, looked at each of them. Finally, he made a decision.

"We'll follow the trail," he said firmly. "But only for a while. If we don't find anything, we'll return to the goblins' trail. And this time," he added, giving Liam a stern look, "no unnecessary detours."

Liam nodded, with an expression of feigned innocence. "As you say, Captain," he said.

And so, the group of adventurers, battered and weary, ventured even deeper into the Enchanted Forest, following a trail that they didn't know where it would lead them.

As they advanced, the forest became darker, more oppressive. The trees, taller and more twisted, seemed to close ranks around them, stifling the little light that managed to filter through the canopy. The air became denser, heavier, and the smell of humidity and decay intensified.

But the most disturbing thing was the silence.

The forest, which had previously been filled with the sounds of life – the singing of birds, the buzzing of insects, the rustling of leaves – was now completely silent. An unnatural, deep silence, that pressed on the ears and made the skin crawl.

"What happened?" Sebastian asked, his voice low and nervous. "Why is everything so quiet?"

Roland shook his head. "I don't know," he said. "But I don't like it."

They advanced a few more meters, their senses alert, scanning the gloom. And then, they saw it.

A clearing. A small open space in the middle of the thicket, bathed in a strangely pale light. In the center of the clearing, stood a tree.

But it wasn't an ordinary tree. It was an oak, but a gigantic oak, the largest Sebastian had ever seen in his life. Its trunk, as thick as the tower of a castle, was covered with a thick, dark moss, speckled with lichens of a silvery-gray color. Its branches, gnarled and twisted like the arms of a giant, stretched towards the sky, forming a vault that almost completely hid the sunlight.

And, at the base of the tree, half-hidden by a tangle of roots and vegetation, was an entrance.

An entrance that didn't look natural. An entrance that seemed to have been carved into the rock, with an unnatural precision.

Sebastian approached cautiously and pulled away the vegetation covering the entrance. It was a stone slab, of a dark gray color, almost black, covered with moss and lichens. But, despite the time and erosion, symbols could be distinguished, etched on the surface. Strange symbols, unlike anything Sebastian had ever seen before.

"What is this?" Sebastian asked, his voice astonished. "I've never heard of ruins in this part of the forest." Correcting Roland, and his draft chapter error in turn.

"A dungeon," Markus said, his voice deep and resonant. "An entrance to a dungeon."

Roland approached and examined the slab carefully. "Markus is right," he said. "These symbols... are ancient. Very ancient. They could be from the time of the Convergence War."

"The what War?" Sebastian asked, confused.

"A long story, lad," Roland replied. "Let's just say it was a very dark time. A time when worlds collided, and magic ran rampant." He paused, and his face darkened. "It is said that the dungeons were created during that time. As shelters, as prisons, as... experiments."

Liam, who had been observing the entrance with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension, approached the slab and touched it with the tips of his fingers.

"And what's supposed to be inside?" he asked.

Roland shrugged. "No one knows for sure," he said. "But the legends speak of deadly traps, monstrous creatures, unimaginable treasures... and a very powerful, and very dangerous, magic."

A tense silence fell. The four adventurers looked at each other, weighing the risks and the possible rewards.

"Are we going in?" Sebastian asked, his voice trembling.

Roland looked at him intently. "That's the question, lad," he said. "Are we willing to take the risk?"

Markus, with a grunt, stepped forward. "I am," he said. "I didn't come all this way to turn back. Besides," he added, with a twisted smile, "I could use a little action."

Liam, with a carefree smile, nodded. "Me too," he said. "I've always wanted to explore a dungeon. And, who knows, maybe we'll find something worthwhile."

Roland sighed. "Alright," he said. "We'll go in. But carefully. We don't know what awaits us in there." He turned to Sebastian. "You, lad, stay close to me. And keep those herbs of yours handy. They might be useful."

Sebastian nodded, feeling his heart pounding in his chest. This is madness, he thought. I should turn around and run. But...

But he couldn't. He couldn't abandon his companions. And, deep down, a part of him, a small but persistent part, felt curiosity. Curiosity to know what secrets the dungeon held. Curiosity to find out if the legends were true.

Roland, with a final look at his companions, approached the slab and began to pull away the vegetation covering it. The stone, cold and damp, seemed to resist being uncovered, as if it wanted to keep its secrets hidden.

And then, with a dull creak, the slab gave way.

A shiver ran down Sebastian's spine, not from fear, but because an icy current of air surged from the darkness that opened before them. An air that smelled of ancient stone, dust, and something else... something indescribable, that made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end.

The entrance to the dungeon was open. And the silence, a silence even deeper and more disturbing than that of the forest, invited them to enter. A silence that promised danger, mystery, and, perhaps, death.

But also, perhaps, adventure.