With the memory of that strange night lingering, Greywind now stood before the dark maw of the cave. Jannis's warmth still felt like a faint ghost upon his skin. He ignored her taunts, focusing entirely on the mission. He produced Elara's journal once more, turning to the page depicting the entrance.
The description held true: two giant rock pillars leaning toward each other like praying hands. Above the cleft, the worn carving a circle with radiating lines, resembling a sun... or perhaps a heart with veins?
Approaching closer, he felt the soft wind exhaling from the cave. As per Elara's notes, it was silent now, as it was not yet sunset. He also noted the tracks in the parched earth: several sets of human footprints entering, and ominously, none leaving. There were also wide tracks, like those of a sled or a cart, perhaps used for supplies... or something else.
"They are already inside," Jannis hissed, her voice like shifting silt. "And they have no intention of leaving or perhaps they are not permitted to until the ritual is complete. Be wary of the door. Inanimate things in a place like this can possess... a will of their own."
Greywind inspected the entrance for traps or sorcerous triggers. His eyes, trained for the subtle deceptions of a charlatan, scanned every inch.
The Carving: The radiating lines were asymmetrical. One "ray" was deeper and had a small crack at the end not a natural fissure, but a slot or a button.
The Stone Frame: On the left side, at waist height, the stone was smoother, slightly concave, as if polished by the touch of many hands.
The Threshold: The footprints were normal until a certain point, where they simply vanished as if the walkers had evaporated or been lifted away.
The Wind: Though a breeze emerged, no dust or debris crossed the threshold. An invisible barrier seemed to filter the very air.
"A clever door," Jannis remarked. "Filtering the unwanted. Or perhaps... scanning those who enter. You see the smooth stone? It likely requires a touch, or blood, or a word. Or perhaps... the right kind of silence."
Recalling Elara's note about the Hall of Whispering Sands reacting to sound, Greywind decided against touching anything directly. Instead, he would test the cave's reaction with an illusion.
He stepped back, focusing his mind. With a fluid gesture and a whispered incantation, he cast Minor Illusion.
The illusion: The sound of two or three men speaking gruffly, panting with exertion, accompanied by heavy footsteps, as if another group of adventurers had just arrived on the opposite side of the rock formation. The voices were vivid: "Over here! The door! Hurry, before they finish it!"
The effect was instantaneous. The entrance did not move. The stone remained silent. But from deep within the dark maw, a sudden, loud rustle of sand emerged, like a giant rattlesnake waking. Then, a dry, rasping whisper composed of many voices at once drifted from the gloom:
"Shhh... someone... speaks...? No... not a brother... Not... the called...?"
The voice was filled with a hungry, lethal curiosity.
"Good," Jannis whispered, sounding amused. "You've woken it or them. The sand that hears. Now we know: foreign sounds draw their attention."
Greywind moved. As the rustle of sand still echoed from within, the attention of the cave was diverted toward the source of his illusion. This was his opening. He took a deep breath, controlling every muscle, and slipped like smoke into the dark cleft, utilizing the shadows.
He glided past the threshold. As he crossed, he felt a brief, cold shiver, like passing through an invisible curtain of water. He was inside.
He was in a narrow tunnel that sloped downward. The only light came from the entrance behind him, fading rapidly as he descended. The air was bone-dry, smelling of ancient stone, metal, and something sickly sweet like rot.
After twenty feet, the tunnel opened into a vast chamber that left him momentarily breathless.
The Entrance Chamber: The ceiling vaulted fifteen feet high. The walls were natural stone, but they were coated in a layer of fine sand that shifted perpetually, as if breathing. In the center of the room, three archways served as exits:
Left: Darker, with a stronger wind and a constant, dry rustling.
Middle: A wider path, the floor scored with cart tracks and numerous footprints leading inward.
Right: An archway nearly obscured by a curtain of tiny, sand-colored crystals. They tinkled softly against one another, producing a melancholic melody.
On the left wall, near the central arch, sat an inscription in an ancient tongue. And most striking of all near the inscription lay two bodies. They wore the same cultist robes as those at the ruins, but they were desiccated, shriveled husks as if every drop of moisture had been vacuumed from their frames. Their faces were frozen in masks of terror.
"A lovely reminder," Jannis whispered. "The sand here is not merely listening... it is parched. Those who make the wrong sound... or perhaps those who are uninvited... are bled dry. Choose your path with care, Greywind."
From the left archway, the rasping whispers of the sand still drifted, as if arguing over the illusory voices outside.
Greywind approached the inscription. The symbols were winding and fluid, like the tracks of a snake in the dunes. He could not read them.
"Hey, Jannis," he called out in his mind, his tone flat and sarcastic. "Is it just your chest that's impressive, or is there a brain in there too? Help me with this."
There was a brief psychic pause, then a deep, booming laugh of pure delight filled his head.
"Oh, Greywind, your flattery always makes me... flush," Jannis purred, her voice a satisfied sigh. He felt a phantom squeeze on his shoulder. "Of course I can read it. I am older than the dust on these stones. But... for every favor, there is usually... a small tribute."
She paused, as if pondering. "How about this... for every line I translate, you must whisper one thing you admire about me? Or... a promise for a real kiss later? Not a psychic wisp, but your actual lips, upon... something I make real for you." Her teasing grew more pointed. "Or, if you won't play... just say 'please' nicely. I'm in a generous mood today."
Greywind uttered his request in a flat voice, yet the words were filled with a mock-reverence that was as hyperbolic as it was sarcastic. "Oh, Great Lady Jannis, I am but your humble servant, hereby entreating your aid. Enlighten me in this darkness, Oh Jannis, the moon-demon who shackles the lusts of men, grant me your guidance."
He paused. "Satisfied?"
The effect was instant and intense. "Hah... ah... Greywind..." Jannis moaned in his mind. It was a mixture of a breathless laugh and a deep sigh of gratification. Her voice was trembling, wet with an almost uncontrollable pleasure.
"I... I am flushed, Greywind," she whispered, her voice husky. "Your words... truly... exquisite. Do that again... later... for me."
A sensation of wet, shivering heat swept over his back as if he were being doused by something invisible, then it vanished. Jannis seemed to be catching her breath, still panting slightly.
"Very well... a more than ample tribute. Look at the inscription."
Greywind's gaze fixed on the wall. Suddenly, the symbols seemed to shift and writhe, becoming a language he understood in his mind. Jannis read it aloud, her voice still trembling but clear:
"Welcome, the Lost or the Called. Three paths await:
The Path of the Sand's Ear: Listen to the whispers, and you shall be guided or led astray by the insatiable voice.
The Path of Faith's Tread: Follow the tracks of those who know the goal, and reach the cave's heart or meet the same fate.
The Path of the Dream's Shimmer: Behold the sleeping beauty, and find a gift or a sweet end.
Only those who carry My Heart may pass the Door of the Last Breath without becoming dust. The Sand-Bound King."
"My Heart," Jannis whispered, her composure returning. "That refers to the Sandheart Gem. And the Door of the Last Breath must be the entrance to the primary ritual chamber. You must possess the stone to pass the final threshold safely."
"So, your choice, Greywind. Do you take the Path of the Sand's Ear (Left), which may yield clues but is full of deception? The Path of Faith's Tread (Middle), which leads directly to the heart but is likely guarded or trapped? Or the Path of the Dream's Shimmer (Right), which may hold a gift perhaps the stone itself but also lethal illusions?"