Chapter-16

In the eastern part of the world, there sat a house atop a mountain. Beside the waterfall ran its fence and across the rift was a tree, dried from the dusty cold winds.

With a creak of the mite ravaged plank, Bruce stepped through the cobwebs, tangling them all over his face.

"ugh, dammit" he shrieked, his hunching figure stumbled and stomped around, breaking the frail, termite infested planks.

"Dont be such a sissy and just move ahead" said a disdainful voice from behind him.

Grace scorned at the grown man acting like a 5 year old.

Further inside they went, deep into the aged house, all in search of a clue, a clue to what lead them inside these barren mountains of Kwastria.

Bruce looked at the bookshelf, filled with books that had seen better days. Brown were the pages with gaping holes and dust, most, ruined beyond repair. Fearing the small buzzy things he left them alone. In fact he wanted to leave the house itself, because places like these usually oozed with those little critters. Oh how he wished they would disappear from the face of the world, Grace however showed no such bias. She ripped apart the rotten leather off the bed and tore off the wallpaper to show all they hid. No book was left untouched, no wall left un-knocked and by the end of the day, the house was a mess. Debris and dust scattered all around, walls riddled with holes , it was a wonder how it hadn't came crashing down yet, but that too changed when Bruce removed a plank to peek at secrets it might hid. All kinds of bugs fled in all directions, he closed his eyes in terror and punched down in hopes of blowing them all away.

The cliff rumbled and the house collapsed into an avalanche.

Grace and Bruce evacuated the old house, all to spectacle their last hope slipping down the valley, falling into a resounding mess.

"You buffoon!" she struck his head. "there goes our last way to track him." her face showing signs of tears, a face unseen by Bruce who was just about to burst with apologizes.

"Hey! look at that" pointed he, to the only structure that survived Bruce's strike.

"What..." Grace lifted her face from her shadow to look at the walls of a small brick pit poking out of the destroyed edge, looking down all they saw was darkness, the evening sun provided no support as the sky took the color of a rose withering to black.

"Lets makes some torches" said Grace, with a face that had regained her usual vigor.

Bruce kept a hand on her shoulder and shook his head.

A moment of hesitation and frustration take shape on her face but they become a realization.

"Yeah...you are right, lets wait until morning before heading into an unknown hole" she said awkwardly, embarrassed for being told such an obvious and senible thing from a man she calls a muscle head.

Bruce gazed at the face of his friend, his only friend, this was not like her, to have such a painful look on her face, to be so meek, she was a woman so strong, strongest he's ever seen someone be and yet here she was, becoming so fickle and befuddled so easily. He glanced at the protruding pit again, hoping there wont be any spiders in there.

***

George stared at the moss-covered stone, green, the engravings had become, he cleaned them trying to see what the greenery hid, it was supposedly a part of a milestone pointing towards a city long gone, only visible due to its resilience and height.

Inscriptions, murals and texts, all fighting with nature to preserve the meanings they held, to preserve the story told by people who no longer exist. This made George want to seek out their words, to find what they tried to conserve and why? Alas, he had a mission he needed to fulfill. So all he did was crass the mold away from the tokens of past that till now had withstood the killer of all, time.

"The thing is, he never had it anyway. So for half an hour he talked and talked about an iguana that didn't exist, can you believe that !?" the mood was merry around the campfire "but that's not where the story ends, no, that bastard then had the gall to show the skin of a rat saying..." some chuckled while the others roasted whatever delicacies the swamp could provide. Though the signs of exhaustion from the arduous task of navigation the swamp were the apparent but they were overshadowed by the realization that the goal for which they had spent years for was close enought that they could almost touch it with their fingertips.

Darwin overlooked the sight with a light smile, he was surprised by how much progress was made by the team, they had gotten access to the right of exploration by the government by collaborating with some native archeologists and though he didn't ask the details but there even were plans for funding for the restoration of these relics of past by some enthusiast even from among some higher ups of a few famous corporations.

He was the part of a scouting team ahead of the team responsible for excavating and since it was not the first time he was visiting this place his job was to point out the way and he had done a good job indeed, reducing the time of searching in this deep swamp forest by months if not years.

***

'Tis not the whispering winds that hath thee a shiver, thwas the thundering clouds that made thee aloose' Ethan read before chuckling.

It was another book that he discovered in his father's study, the writer's style seemed familiar and it was filled with wisecrack and innuendos.

He turned the slightly brown pages of the book, reading the 'Adventures of a Bard so aloof'.