A dark cord tied around a jagged shard of stone.
A shallow scratch in the shape of a hooked line.
Three small chips knocked out of the edge of a slab, all facing the same direction.
Rohan followed them with growing attention, half impressed and half unnerved. This was not a road for travellers. It was a route for locals who expected the landscape to kill strangers.
'Great. So the human settlement, assuming there is one, either doesn't like visitors or doesn't get many.'
The trail eventually climbed a low rise where the black slabs grew larger and more tightly packed. Rohan had to use his spear for balance as he ascended, carefully placing Hestia's boots on the least jagged sections. The incline was not steep, but the ash made everything treacherous. Twice, his foot slid on a deceptively smooth patch of black stone, and only the spear stopped him from falling hard enough to split his knee open.
When he reached the top, the world changed.
