Merlin woke suddenly, as if some invisible force had shaken him from sleep.
It was still dark. The air was quiet, and he couldn't tell if morning had come yet. For a moment he simply lay there, staring into the dim shapes of the trees above him.
The forest felt different at night.
Not dangerous.
Just… older.
His stomach rumbled. The raw meat wasn't sitting well, though the feeling wasn't entirely unfamiliar.
He turned onto his side and closed his eyes again.
The sound of the river drifted through the trees.
Slow. Steady.
The same quiet sound it had made the night before.
Merlin opened his eyes and sat up.
His thoughts drifted to the meat he had tied in the water.
After a moment, he pushed himself to his feet and walked toward the river.
The ground was cool beneath his boots, the air carrying that faint damp scent that forests always seemed to have before morning.
The bundle was still there.
The knot held firm against the root, and the current moved around it in gentle circles.
But something about the meat looked different.
Less raw than before.
Merlin tilted his head slightly.
Maybe the cold water had changed it.
He watched the river for a moment longer than necessary.
Something about the quiet sound of the current stirred a faint feeling in the back of his mind.
Like a memory he couldn't quite reach.
He exhaled softly and turned back toward the shelter.
Halfway there, a faint sound came from the trees.
Merlin froze.
The fox stood a short distance away, watching him.
Its fur caught the pale forest light, orange against the grey shadows.
For a moment neither of them moved.
Then the fox turned and ran.
But it didn't run like before.
It wasn't panicked.
It wasn't even very fast.
It almost looked as if it wanted him to follow.
Merlin hesitated only a moment before stepping after it.
The fox was already several seconds ahead, but it moved slowly enough that he could still see flashes of its tail between the trees.
A thought crept into his mind as he walked.
It might not be wise to wander too far from the small place he had begun to call his shelter.
But another thought pushed quietly against that caution.
If there were any signs of people nearby… this might be the best chance to find them.
Merlin quickened his pace.
The wind brushed gently against his cheek as he moved deeper into the forest.
Without the sun in the sky, he couldn't tell the time.
Yet the forest was strangely bright.
Not like morning.
Not like night.
Just softly lit, as if the world had paused somewhere between the two.
The fox slowed ahead of him, stopping briefly on a fallen log.
In the pale forest light it formed a strange silhouette — half shadow, half flame-colored fur.
For a brief moment, Merlin's heart skipped.
Even though he could see the fox clearly, something about the way it stood there made his mind play tricks on him.
For a brief instant he could almost imagine long, flowing hair where its fur moved in the wind.
It felt almost like a person standing there, watching him.
The fox looked back.
Its eyes met his again.
Then it jumped down and continued forward.
Merlin followed.
And with every step, the forest around him felt strangely familiar.
Like walking through a place he had never been…
but somehow remembered.
After several minutes, the flashes of orange between the trees stopped.
Merlin slowed.
The fox was gone. Ahead of him a low bush blocked the path.
Merlin pushed the branches aside with both hands and stepped through.
On the other side, he caught sight of the fox again. He tried to jump after it but his foot hit something hard. He used his foot to brush away some leaves he found a stone it was flat against the ground. It was unnatural.
Merlin crouched and brushed away more leaves.
The stones continued.
One after another, disappearing beneath moss and roots as they stretched deeper into the forest.
A road.
Not new.
Not even close.
The edges of the stones had softened with time, and in some places the forest had already begun to swallow them.
But it was unmistakable.
Someone had built this.
Merlin slowly straightened and looked ahead.
The road ran forward between the trees, fading into the pale forest light until it vanished completely from sight.
It didn't end.
It kept going.
Far.
Much farther than he could see.
Merlin followed it for several steps, his boots landing on the old stones.
Then he stopped.
If the road led somewhere…
Then that place might be days away.
Maybe more.
He glanced back in the direction of his shelter.
The hollow tree.
The hanging meat.
The river.
The small piece of forest he had barely begun to understand.
Leaving it now would be foolish.
Merlin looked down at the stones again.
A road meant people.
And people meant answers.
He placed his foot back onto the soil beside it.
For now, it was enough to know the path existed.
The forest no longer felt endless.
Somewhere ahead…
It ended.
Merlin turned away from the road, his mind already drifting back toward the direction of his shelter.
If he planned to follow the road one day, he would need more than curiosity.
He would need food.
As he stepped through the undergrowth, a flash of pale color above him caught his eye.
He stopped.
A crooked tree leaned slightly over the forest floor, its branches heavy with small round fruits. Several had already fallen, resting in the grass beneath it.
Merlin approached cautiously.
He crouched and picked one up, turning it slowly between his fingers. The skin was smooth and faintly golden, warm where the forest light touched it.
He cut a thin piece with his dagger and tasted it.
Sweet.
Not strongly sweet, but enough.
Food.
He looked up again.
There were dozens of them.
Merlin began picking the fallen ones first, placing them carefully on a patch of moss beside him.
After the fifth fruit, he paused.
Carrying them in his hands would be impossible.
He needed something to hold them.
For a moment he searched his coat, but found nothing useful.
Then his eyes drifted down to his right arm.
The cloth tied there had loosened slightly.
Riya's handkerchief.
He stared at it quietly for a moment.
The memory of her tying it around his arm surfaced clearly in his mind.
Her hands had been steady.
More steady than his.
Merlin carefully untied the cloth, checking the wound beneath it. The cut had begun to close, though the skin around it was still stiff.
It would hold without the bandage for now.
He folded the handkerchief open and placed the fruits into the center of the cloth.
Then he pulled the corners together and tied them into a small bundle.
Not perfect.
But it would work.
Merlin lifted the makeshift pouch and gave it a small test shake.
The fruits held.
For a brief moment, he almost smiled.