Clues

Vin looked at the three spoons in his hand.

What exactly was he supposed to do with them?

The rectangular hole had been locked from the outside, and there seemed to be no way of opening it from within. But then he remembered… the sharp edge had cut him once. Maybe—just maybe—if he stuck a spoon into the hole and pulled at the latch…

He did some quick physics in his head. It might help—just a little—if the leverage worked right.

With that in mind, he sat back down where he’d been crouched for the past two days. His body still ached, but for the first time in a while, he wasn’t filled with those dark, empty thoughts. Instead, a flicker of optimism settled in his chest.

Time crawled.

A few hours passed. Vin expected to hear a gyole’s thudding steps at any moment—but no one came.

That was… strange.

He placed his head against the cold door, straining his ears. Still nothing. Just silence. That eerie, disturbing kind of silence that makes the hair on your arms stand.

Then—a sound.

Faint footsteps.

Vin jolted upright and rubbed his palms together. It’s time, he thought, trying to steel his nerves.

But wait.

Faint footsteps?

That wasn’t right. The gyoles never walked quietly. They stomped—like they were trying to crack open the ground itself. Their steps were heavy, thunderous, impossible to miss.

These were precise. Measured.

Vin’s breath hitched. His chest tightened. His eyes burned with sudden tears of frustration.

Please… this can’t go wrong.

The footsteps stopped. Right outside his door.

Then came the soft tapping of fingers against the metal surface. Something scraped—slow and deliberate—and with a click, the lock gave way. The door creaked open just slightly, and a small shape was pushed inside.

Vin, already sitting close, saw it clearly.

A hand.

Flesh and bone.

Not stone. Not the rigid claws of a gyole. But real fingers.

His heart leapt to his throat. Confusion swirled inside him.

Since when did gyoles have flesh?

His gaze drifted upward—and that’s when he saw it.

A masked face.

Peeking through the narrow opening.

A scream escaped him—loud and raw—as the reality hit. He was being watched. And he’d been sitting there like a stunned animal.

He couldn’t move.

Couldn’t look away.

The voice that followed was deep and baritone. Not the grinding rumble of a gyole. But a man’s voice. Calm. Almost elegant.

Vin’s thoughts scrambled. Was he being saved? Was this a trap? Who even was this?

“Who… are you?” he croaked, sliding backward until his back slammed against the stony wall.

He didn’t care about the pain. He just needed space.

“I’m someone you don’t need to know,” the voice said—sharp, clipped, and oddly smooth. “I came to help you. Now listen carefully. Trust your head. And your luck. Sharpen your eyes. Your ears. Everything.”

Vin blinked.

That sounded… like a demon.

Only demons talked like that. Polished. Precise. Educated. It was said they were the most refined beings in the realm—because knowledge was power, and demons ruled the top of the food chain.

Still, he couldn’t speak.

Did this person really want to help?

Or was this some elaborate way to finish him off?

The masked man scoffed softly. Like he couldn’t believe he was wasting his time.

“Look inside the soup they gave you. There’s a key. A small one—key number three. There’s another door in this room. Far yet close. You’ll find it where the star gazes on the camel. Open it. And run.”

He paused, ready to shut the panel.

“Wait!” Vin called out, panic rising again. “Who are you?”

He didn’t even know why he asked again. Maybe he needed to put a name to either his savior or his executioner.

“That’s not important,” the man replied. “What matters is getting out before ten hours pass. After that, you're dead meat.”

He tossed a small, carefully wrapped parcel through the opening.

Vin stared at it.

Didn’t touch it.

It could be a bomb.

The voice came again, colder this time. “Oh. I suppose you’ve been wondering what your crime was, haven’t you?”

Vin didn’t move.

“You used magic. That’s it. That’s the offense. You broke a law. A very important one. The stonegyoles serve multiple purposes—ones you can’t even imagine. They sniffed out the magic. Traced it to you. They’re coming again, and this time? To kill.”

There was a pause.

Vin could almost feel the smirk behind the mask.

And then—woosh.

A rush of cold air slammed his face.

He blinked.

The man was gone.

Vin slumped backward into the pile of old plates behind him—plates he had completely forgotten in the chaos.

He was dazed. Confused. His thoughts spun like a raging storm. What now? Who do I trust?

His legs had gone numb, so he stretched them out to wake the nerves. His foot brushed something—papery.

He jerked away with a small shout. His heart hammering again.

Carefully, he leaned forward and found a slip of white paper tucked beside the plates.

He hesitated.

Then he muttered a quiet prayer under his breath.

He wasn’t allowed to use magic. But faith? Faith was still his. Still something he could call on. He believed in it deeply.

He unfolded the paper.

His eyes widened.

It was… a clock.

Just one hand.

No seconds. No minutes.

Just hours.

The man’s voice echoed in his memory:

“Ten hours.”

He checked the dial. Already more than an hour had passed.

He was running out of time.

Quickly, he tried to remember the rest of the riddle.

“The door that is far yet close. Where the sun gazes on the camel.”

He repeated it over and over, pacing in small circles, ignoring the stiffness in his limbs.

“Close yet far… where the sun gazes on the camel,” he muttered. “Why must it be in riddles?!”

He slumped down again.

He was Vin. Student of Master Liam. The village head’s pupil.

Bright. Sharp. Talented.

But since when did solving puzzles require bragging?

Who was he even trying to impress?

No. Focus. He had to get out.

His head pounded from overthinking.

“Ouch. Ouch. The cramps…” he groaned, letting himself fall back.

From that position—flat on his back—something caught his eye.

A faint sliver of light.

Just a ray.

Coming from… somewhere near the stack of plates.

His heart jumped.

“Where the sun gazes…”

He scrambled up, winced in pain, then crawled over to it. He moved the plates aside—and behind them, revealed a small wall segment he hadn’t really notice

d before.

The light struck it perfectly.

There was no visible door.

But that wall…

That had to be it.

He smiled, wild and desperate.

Now all he had to do… was open it.

Before time ran out.