The path reaches the salt flat beside a low mound and a thorn tree. Beyond them, pale crust runs to the horizon. A staff pushed through it comes back wet. Beneath the tree, roots have lifted two slabs from the roof of a buried building. The gap is wide enough to lower a pack through. Steps descend along one wall, their upper edges cleared of soil.
An old traveler sits on the first step with his boots unlaced. He has crossed from the western ridge, stopping at each marker. At first he rested long enough to drink. Then long enough for the shadows to move. Here he has taken his pack off. He rubs a thumb over the strap when he speaks of leaving, but makes no move to put it on.
Below him, three goats lie on straw beneath the intact half of the roof. A water trough has been scrubbed clean. Bundles of fodder hang above the reach of their teeth, and a broom leans beside the steps. The traveler says a woman comes from beyond the ridge to tend them. She carries empty buckets home each evening. This morning he watched her cross the crust without testing it once. Her footprints are still visible beyond the mound, leading away from the marked path.
What does the keeper know about the crossing that the roadside markers do not tell?
Actual table rolls interpreted with AI assistance. Prose and artwork reviewed before publication. These discoveries are invitations to play, not fixed setting canon.