Coincidence or Clue

                  Traveling turned out to be less exciting than Jonas hoped for. Since he had not yet traveled a significant distance from the immediate satellite villages of Hallador, he kept telling himself, the ‘travelling’ had not yet started. The local satellite towns of Hallador lacked unique experiences one would hope to take part in while traveling. These nearby towns just looked like smaller versions of Hallador. In addition, Rasmus’s friend did not offer that much help to the cause, though it led him to a few more connections to visit before he began his journey northward.

                  The network of individuals that unofficially studied ancient languages did not provide any beneficial information. A lot of dead ends and a lot of un-professional hobbyists. The more people he met, the more he found it common for those that studied ancient languages to struggle with the dragon scholars. It became quite apparent exactly how territorial the greedy dragon scholars acted. Their desire for fame was incorrigible. Jonas had one last resource that seemed worthy of a visit. He knew very little of the man, but others in the network of ancient language studies spoke highly of his knowledge. Mostly, he hoped for an invitation to find relief from the heavy rain.

                  Knock, Knock Knock.

                  Jonas waited patiently. He could hear soft muffled movement behind the door. With little haste, the individual finally answered the door, clearly frustrated by the potential annoyance of a visitor this late in the evening.

                  “Yes,” the man responded in an unfriendly tone. The man looked to be middle-aged with dark wavy hair laced with gray, and dark short facial hair.

                  “Soren? Soren Grimfalk?” Jonas hoped to verify the correct location.

                  “Yes. What does this concern?” Soren said, standing in the opening of his door, creating a barrier between Jonas and a potential escape from the rain.

                  “I’m looking for some… well some information, or, even if you could point me in the right direction, I’m trying to collect some information, well…” Jonas struggled to admit out loud exactly what he hoped to find as the last several places proved less fruitful. “…well, the writings of the Gummundir,” Jonas finally communicated.

                  The man at the door looked Jonas over. He looked around and behind Jonas, scoping out anyone that might lurk nearby. “What does that have to do with me? Who sent you here?” The look on Soren’s face grew more agitated.

                  Jonas re-traced his connection line that led to him to Soren’s place, listing any names that led him to that location. Jonas figured the truth would ease the man’s skepticism.

                  “How do I know you don’t work for the dragons in the Consortium?”

                  Jonas held his satchel over his head, trying to find some protection from the rain. Soren did not seem to welcome unwanted visitors. Jonas understood why the man might feel distrusting, but his patience wore thin as he absorbed more and more rain. “Uhh, well if I worked for them, I wouldn’t be on this completely foolish hunt for something I’m not sure even exists, consulting with people that may know nothing about ancient languages. Honestly, I’m not sure what I’m doing.” The mental exhaustion of Jonas began to show through.

                  Soren looked over the pathetic-looking Jonas getting soaked through by the relentless rain trying to decipher Jonas’s intentions.

                  Jonas interrupted the silence. “I’ve found something, something I can’t explain. It looks like an ancient manuscript, although I’m not entirely sure. I’m trying to figure out if… if… if this entire journey is worth it. I don’t want to give it to the Consortium, but it may be my only option.” Jonas made one last plea for help, or at least a moment out of the rain.

                  Soren nodded his head and motioned Jonas inside, tossing him a cloth to dry off with.

                  “Thank you, really appreciate it.” Jonas said, wiping away the layers of rain from his face, satchel, and coat. Soren nodded. After exchanging some light conversations, Soren motioned for Jonas to follow him, as they made their way back to a study room stacked with papers, books, and a working space.

                  “So an ancient manuscript, huh? Are you sure it’s not a forgery?”

                  “Actually, that’s what I’m trying to determine. It looks like it’s written in ancient Gumtal, although-”

                  “What makes you so sure what you found is actually Gumtal?” Soren asked.

                  “Well, I’m not one hundred percent sure. A lot of the evidence points that it might be, although I haven’t found a written language like it anywhere else,” Jonas responded as he carefully pulled out his leather wrapped pages, avoiding any contamination from the rain. “You see, I came across a couple of pages from a book.” Jonas learned the hard way how quick kindness and love for education could shift at a certain price. An entire book from the ancient world would be worth a lot of money on the black market if it were authentic. “These pages they appear to be in a similar form of the Gummundir writing, but they look different. One page contained a map with Gumtal notes on it.” Jonas pulled out the pages, handing the map to Soren. Soren immediately took an interest in looking over the ancient paper.

                  “It looks authentic,” Soren stated as he carefully handled the page. He mouthed the words as he analyzed the ancient human notes written on the map.

                  “Oh, here are my notes of what we think the translation means….” Jonas said.

                  Before Jonas could hand over his notes, Soren read the translations out loud. He eventually took Jonas’s notes, comparing them to the ancient text.

                  “Your translation is close. This word here more likely indicates ‘new’, it seems to reference a new river, or something newly created, and this word here, the way it’s used, would indicate ‘growth’ or ‘growing’, not tall or large.” Soren’s knowledge of ancient human language exceeded Jonas’s expectations. “Do you have any idea where this map leads?” Soren asked.

                  “Not exactly. Based on the directions given, and assuming the directions are from Hallador, it leads us to one of several villages up north, possibly a tiny village called Eknor. Although, the theory is highly unlikely based on some of the other geographic indicators and established civilizations.” Jonas pointed out some notes he and Rasmus made. “What I’m hoping for is any help in understanding or identifying these symbols.”

                  Jonas pulled out a page with the strange writings on it and carefully passed it to Soren. His eyes lit up at seeing the strange, unique writing. Soren analyzed the page, looking over each symbol. Looking up, he asked, “Have the scholars seen this yet?”

                  “No,” Jonas replied.

                  “Good, don’t let them.” Soren examined each page, engrossed by the fascinating and unusual characters. “My father studied the Gummundir extensively, yet didn’t pass certification, and my great grandfather nearly secured a spot in the Consortium itself before they introduced the certification program. Naturally, I wanted to follow in their footsteps and learn everything they knew, and then more. If I could pass the certification, I could make my heritage proud. I thoroughly believed I would be the first human scholar to pass certification since its introduction.” Soren continued to review the symbols as he shared his story. “My mind could remember anything I read; I could absorb endless amounts of writing. I was on my way to official certification. But the scholars found out how much my father and his grandfather collected and they took it. They showed up one day with an order from the kingdom, and they took it all. Those dragons held no respect for the intellectual well my father built. They wanted it for their own praise, and they blocked me from the program, accusing me of withholding knowledge against the greater good. So never give those scholars anything. They don’t deserve it.”

                  Jonas thought for a moment about the aggressive nature of the scholars. He knew the scholars were frustrating to work with, yet he did not know they could be that viciously territorial.

                  “I just wanted to do something great.” Soren mumbled to himself. After a few moments in silence, looking over the writing, he gave his analysis. “This looks authentic, from the paper to the brush strokes, the inking technique, it’s all spot on. If this were a forgery, I’ve seen nothing this good. Although the writing isn’t Gumtal. None of it’s recognizable. These are more like symbols, possibly an ancient form from the islands to the far west or far east, more likely…” suddenly Soren stopped mid-sentence. Soren stood up and shuffled through a bookshelf with bound notes and books. “…Actually, I think I’ve seen writing like this before. After the scholars took all our samples and research, I set out to record everything we learned, writing everything down again, from memory.”

                  “You wrote all of this from memory?” Jonas asked, looking at the shelves and shelves of books and papers.

                  Soren kept sorting through the shelves and books. “Well, we held onto some of my father’s and great grandfather’s notes from their personal journals the Consortium didn’t take or know about. I recall my father would entertain a certain fantasy about some similar text my great grandfather had, very symbolic, like the writing you have here. Where was that? Where was that?” Soren said to himself, looking through the books. “Aha!”

                  Soren pulled down an old journal, opening it up to a page containing a written note with similar symbols.  

                  Finally, a clue! Jonas’s heart raced with excitement at seeing similar writing other than in his found book. If nothing else, it supported the idea that the writing existed outside of the book, which made it less likely to be a fictional fabrication.

                  “Ha,” Soren said. “My father always talked about this. My great grandfather’s friend gave him an unusual page remnant, hoping he could translate it. He held onto it for years, never able to find anything similar, no clues for translation. As the story goes, my great grandfather learned of an old woman that could translate ancient languages, so he sent her a replication. She claimed she could translate it, but the woman required the original piece, not a replication, which made him believe she wanted to collect the relic for herself, so he brushed it aside. My father always talked of finishing the journey, just to see what she could offer. He wanted to solve the mystery his grandfather couldn’t. Although he never set aside enough money for the trip. He prioritized raising a family first, and well, now the original is gone.”

                  “Where did this woman live? Maybe she can help us with the pages I found?” Jonas asked.

                  “Considering this journal belonged to my great grandfather, I would imagine this woman is not readily available. Let me think…” Soren picked up the journal and flipped through several pages of notes. “I know it was up north. Where did she live…” Soren paused a moment. “Huh, maybe that map does lead someplace.” Soren pushed his book of notes, pointing to the written location.

                  “Eknor.”