Stuck in an Island with Twelve Beautiful Women

A stone tablet, etched with symbols unlike anything Jude had ever seen.

He stepped forward cautiously, brushing away the dust. The carvings pulsed faintly, remnants of an ancient energy still clinging to them. At the center of the tablet was an engraving of the archway, and within it, two figures.

One clad in silver and black.

The other, draped in light.

Jude's fingers traced the symbols carefully. "This is the key."

Lyara crossed her arms. "Then we find it. Before the gate opens again."

The hooded figure slowly stepped back, the shadows beginning to consume it once more. Its voice was the last thing to fade.

"Remember this, what is lost can be found. But what is found… may not wish to remain lost."

And then it was gone.

Jude and Lyara stood in the ruins, the silence pressing around them once more. But this time, it was different.

This time, they had a path forward.

And whatever waited at the end of it, they would be ready.

Jude and Lyara stood in the ruins for a long moment, the weight of what they had seen pressing down on them. The stone tablet still pulsed faintly in Jude's hands, its ancient carvings whispering of a forgotten past and an uncertain future. Lyara glanced around, her senses still on high alert, as if expecting the hooded figure to return. But they were alone once more, left with only the cold wind and the silent ruins as their witnesses.

"We need to move," Lyara finally said, breaking the heavy silence.

Jude nodded, slipping the tablet into his satchel. "But where? This thing doesn't exactly come with a map."

Lyara exhaled sharply, her fingers tightening around the hilt of her blade. "The figure said the key was lost. If this tablet is a clue, then we need to find someone who can read it."

Jude frowned, running a hand through his hair. "That's the problem. This script… I don't think anyone alive knows how to read it."

Lyara glanced at the markings again, her brow furrowing. "You said the vision showed two figures. The man in silver and black… and another draped in light."

Jude nodded slowly. "Yeah. If the first became the guardian of the gate, then the second must have been part of sealing it." He looked down at the tablet again. "Maybe this engraving isn't just a recording of the past. Maybe it's a message."

Lyara tilted her head, considering. "Then if we find this second figure,"

"We might find the key," Jude finished.

A gust of wind swept through the ruins, scattering loose dust and causing the torches on the outskirts to flicker. The settlement beyond the ruins was still active despite the late hour, the dim glow of lanterns illuminating the makeshift tents and crumbling stone walls where scholars and scavengers alike made their temporary homes.

Lyara gestured toward the encampment. "If there's anyone who knows about ancient scripts, they'd be there."

Jude hesitated, then nodded. "Let's hope they don't charge too much for answers."

They descended the uneven steps leading away from the ruins, the flickering firelight casting long shadows around them. The scent of aged parchment, ink, and burning wood filled the air, mingling with the occasional metallic tang of rusting artifacts. The encampment was a mix of scholars, mercenaries, and traders, each drawn here by the lure of forgotten knowledge or valuable relics.

Jude kept his hood up as they moved through the narrow pathways between tents. He had learned long ago that in places like this, showing too much curiosity could be dangerous. Lyara walked beside him, her stance casual but alert, eyes scanning their surroundings for potential threats.

They approached a large tent adorned with faded banners bearing an old crest, one that Jude vaguely recognized from old history books. The symbol of the Archivists, a group dedicated to preserving ancient knowledge. If anyone could help them, it would be them.

Lyara pulled the heavy canvas flap aside, and they stepped inside. The air within was thick with the scent of parchment and dust, stacks of scrolls and weathered tomes covering nearly every available surface. A middle-aged man sat at a desk near the back, hunched over a manuscript, muttering to himself as he scribbled notes in the margins.

Jude cleared his throat. "Excuse me."

The man barely looked up. "If you're here to sell relics, take them to the appraisal tent."

Lyara stepped forward, placing a gloved hand on the desk. "We're not here to sell. We need something translated."

The man sighed, setting his quill down and rubbing his temples. "I don't have time for," He glanced at the tablet Jude pulled from his satchel, and the rest of his sentence died in his throat. His eyes widened, and he sat up straighter. "Where did you find this?"

Jude hesitated. "In the ruins."

The scholar reached for the tablet but stopped just short of touching it, as if afraid it might crumble under his fingers. "This script… it's older than anything I've seen."

Lyara crossed her arms. "Can you read it?"

The man frowned, running a hand through his graying hair. "Not completely. But I can recognize some of the structure, it's similar to an ancient dialect used by the first civilizations that settled these lands. If I had time, I might be able to decipher part of it."

Jude exchanged a glance with Lyara. "How long would that take?"

The scholar sighed. "Weeks, maybe months. This isn't something you just 'read.'"

Lyara's patience was wearing thin. "We don't have months. We need to know if this can lead us to the key."

The man's brow furrowed. "The key?"

Jude hesitated, then made a choice. "The key to the gate. The one from the old legends."

The scholar's expression darkened. He glanced around the tent as if ensuring no one else was listening, then lowered his voice. "That's not something to speak of lightly. There are those who would kill just for the chance to open that gate."