Travelers 5: Flint
Esme gets up from their rocking chair and slowly walks over, handing you a small device. It appears to be a heavily modified walkie-talkie with extra long, sloppily attached antennae. Objects are attached to the sides which, if described accurately, would include the words "doohickey" and "unknown purpose", and generally lots of question marks.
"That's my radio— yes that is my actual radio. Listen, this is important. Not too long before you got here, I heard something... strange. I thought I had imagined it, but then I heard it again - just for a second, there was the sound of a harmonica beneath all that static. Now, I don't know about you, but I only know of one harmonica player in possession of one of these radios. The thing is, they've been out of contact for who knows how long. As you meet us you'll start to notice that we all carry an instrument (well, except me, I just prefer to whistle): Chester's got their bongos, Rowan has a banjo, Gael's got a bass flute, and well, Flint had a harmonica."
With their next words, Esme clenched your hand around the handheld radio. "Please, take this. If Flint's out there, this might help you find them. Plus it gave me the heebie jeebies hearing that harmonica again. It was like hearing a ghost. Alright then, off you go now."
Attaching the radio to your pack, you exit the clearing.
...
Farther and farther, deeper and deeper. Impossibly deep. You didn't know a forest could be this vast. Its size wraps around you. Silver trees towering in every direction. The scope keeps growing, the paths cutting deeper. Distance readings: positive. It seemed like some external force was acting on you, affecting your perception of the forest.
You nearly ran into the wall. It wasn't just a wall, it was rocky, jagged - it was a cliff. The radio attached to the side of your pack started emitting a broken signal of white noise. Ah, yes, that old thing. It was helpful finding Rowan and Gael, but you never once heard a... what was it again? Oh, right, a—
Amidst the static, your radio emitted a piercing frequency of noise. After a beat, the frequency dropped approximately 680.776 hertz, with various overtones and undertones creating ghostly chords. In other words, a harmonica could be heard.
Following the cliff wall, the signal became clearer and clearer until you saw an opening into a small, dark cave. You had to crouch to get inside. The chords of the harmonica echo louder with every step as they bounce around against the rocky walls. At some point, you don't know when, but the radio had stopped transmitting. Now you're hearing the echoes of the harmonica itself as you follow its source, nearly blind in the darkness. Turning another claustrophobic corner, you see it: light, dancing on the stone walls. A campfire.
"Hmm?"
The harmonica was replaced with the hoarse voice of the elderly person in front of you, though it still echoes within the room. The first thing you notice is a large scar that travels from their left temple down the side of their face. A stream of blue light billows into the cave through a window in the stone. In front of it, its sill is decorated with vines and thorny roses. A quilt hangs on the back wall illuminated mostly by the fire. Flint places down the instrument.
"So, I've finally been found, huh? Go on, arrest me. Evict me back into civilization. That's what you're here for, yeah?"
After a moment of silence, Flint laughs heartily and leans back on their elbows. "I'm just yankin' your chain, kid. Go on, grab a marshmallow and sit down. You'd like to hear my story, eh?"
A chilly wind rushes through the window-like hole. Looking outside through it, you can see the dense canopy of the gravewoods below. You climbed much higher up than expected while traversing here. The fire shivered from the wind, barely managing to stay lit. Taking Flint's advice, you sit next to the fire and begin roasting a marshmallow as they start speaking.
"I was a government official. Sounds impressive, right? Ha! I thought so too. It was just a technicality. The mayor handed me a manual, a scythe, and plopped me in the middle of the woods alone. What a deal, eh? The cabin was pretty cozy, if you're comfortable sleeping under a shovel mounted on the wall. Oh yeah, they gave me a fancy title, too - Keeper of the Gravewoods. Sounds better than it was, really. Just whacking weeds and scaring off anyone trying to mess with the trees."
Flint took a swig of a flask (with water in it) and sighed. "Those blasted trees, let me tell you. They really get to ya. You felt it, right? They twist you up inside, make you feel like you're gonna be lost forever in a world separate from your own. In spite of all that, I showed a considerable amount of bravery I'd say. Every day, I was walking up and down the woods, making sure they weren't suddenly infested with invasive species, or blights, or people. Then, one day, I passed this wall as I always do, and I heard it - a beautiful song. A piano being played inside this very cave. I immediately ran back to the cabin. I wasn't scared, mind you, just had to fill in the daily report. Of course, I couldn't stop thinking about that - this - cave. Kept me up at night. I'd hope to hear it again every single time I passed that entrance, always keeping an ear open for it. Ahhh, I still remember how it goes..."
The traveler closed their eyes in remembrance, bringing their harmonica up to their mouth to play a phrase. It reminded you a lot of Gael's melody. Slow, sweeping, a hope to re-experience something long passed, but never forgotten.
Flint drops the harmonica back down, letting it hang from their neck. "Just to make sure you aren't getting the wrong idea, kid," they said, "what I just played isn't what I heard on the piano. Not much you can transcribe from piano to harmonica y'know. I wrote that little tune as another part to its song, a background if you will. Oh, if only you could've heard it...
"Well, anyway, I'm sure you're dying to know what happened next. It's not happy, kid. I get a letter from the mayor telling me my position is no longer needed. Yep, threw me out just like that. The Gravewood takes care of itself apparently. Makes sense I guess, but I was pretty upset at the time. I even crumpled up that letter and burned it. I thought, screw it, I've held back long enough. I'm going into that darn cave. I packed my things, leaving that beastly scythe behind, and never looked back... as a manner of speech, I mean. I still leave sometimes, but I don't feel the need to go back to that town. I've got all I need."
Your third marshmallow starts to glow red from the fire's heat. You quickly retract it and blow on it. It's a perfect charcoal black.
"Whoa there, don't eat too many of 'em like that. It's got carcinogens, you know. Hah, that's exactly what I told Gael once. I do miss them... All the travelers, I mean. But my radio hasn't worked since I set foot in this place. Finding them would be nearly impossible, and I really don't want to miss..." They trail off, glancing over their shoulder at the quilt hanging on the wall. It's frayed and lost some color over the years, but you can still make out alternating stripes: purple, black, yellow, white, repeating all the way down.
Flint clears their throat and continues. "You know, this whole thing started when Esme and I were younger. We'd always go out exploring, and our parents made Esme come with me 'cause I was too young and would get into lots of trouble." They gently touch the scar on their face, remembering the old days. "We called ourselves the Travelers. You know, as like a little nickname. Then Gael joined us, and created those little radios. It was super handy, especially when they spaced out and separated from the group. Once Chester joined, it started to feel like a real team. Being a Traveler meant something. Travelers have an itch for exploration and curiosity. And Rowan, that nervous little wreck. Always was too scared to go anywhere near this forest, and once I took the job they would always radio for me to come out rather than go in themselves. Hah! Fair enough, I suppose."
Flint smiles. "Kid, I tell you what, you've done real well for yourself. I'd say you've earned the title of Traveler. You found me, after all."
They stand up, brushing ash off their pants and walk over to the striped quilt. "Come here, let's take a walk. I wanna show you something."
They gently push the quilt aside to reveal a wide fissure in the wall. Just barely squeezing through, you both arrive on the other side. Flint lights a lantern, and what you see is... darkness. Darkness, surrounded by an arch of gray stones. The entire room is visible except for the vantablack space inside of the arch. Flint catches your eye and gives you a smirk.
"I call it the Abyss Gate. No clue what's in it, all I know is that anything that I throw in there doesn't come back out. I know I'm adventurous and all, but this thing's a little too much for me. But how about you, eh?"
You stand in front of the gate. This could be a point of no return, yet the draw of curiosity guides your feet closer. You can turn back and return home, or you can travel onward and see for yourself. What will you do?
