What was his reason to be here?
That was a question that sat on the mind, as the man stared up at the king of old, whom towered over the land, keeping watch as he had done through the ages.
His thoughts drifted back to a past conversation, snippets of it still present in the memory, although most of it was scrambled, days and nights long gone twisted and joined together.
Was he here because of the Rangers she had mentioned? Had he decided to try and track them and ask of their suspicious behavior? To send an innocent off into danger, telling them little of what waited for them and shrouding it all in mystery, for them to find out at a later date, if ever...
The man grunted at that thought and shook his head. It wasn't his charge to watch over the woman; her voice ringing, that she could care for herself. Perhaps the reason to be here was making sure that's true?
The man sighed as he sat down on a small rock, to rest his feet and grab something to eat. Chewing on the dry root, he continued to pry at the faltering memory. Recalling the woman at the lake, parts of their conversation, but nothing that would give reason to his travel here.
A palm rose to his face, dragged down, pinching the bridge of the nose. The eyes shutting tight. Another thing forgotten, to revisit the treasure hunter, to give his answer to her offer of work. Too occupied with his preparations for winter and setting up the tunnel to call home for now.
With no light or sense of time in there, the man dreaded to think how much time had been spent in that place alone, forgetting about the world for who knows how long. He had not even noticed when someone snuck into his camp, taking off with some supplies, including his writing equipment. For whatever reason, the pages of his journal that already had ink on them had been torn out and left under a rock. It had been a strange, but pleasant surprise.
The loss of writing tools had been a burden, however. It meant having no means to track his thoughts, to recall events, conversations or people. And now, he was in front of one of the great kings of old, with no idea why.
Swallowing the last piece of the root, the man turned to look up at the statue once more, grimacing.
"Should I continue through these lands or should I return? Why did I come here?" The man questioned, sitting in silence, waiting for an answer that no one around could give.
