I THOUGHT THEY WERE JUST CURIOUS DEER—UNTIL I SAW WHAT THE LITTLE ONE WAS CARRYING They came out of nowhere—just wandered up from the treeline while I was tossing hay near the fence. No fear, no hesitation. Like they’d been here before. The bigger one had a calmness to him, like he was guarding. But the small one? The little one kept tilting its head at me, blinking slow, like it was trying to tell me something. I laughed and pulled out my phone to snap this photo—“today I got some guests,” I joked, even posted it with that caption. But the moment after I took it, something strange happened. The little one stepped forward. Right up to the fence. And dropped something. At first I thought it was a rock or a clump of mud. But when ⤵️

It took two hours, but I found it—a flat, weather-worn slab hidden beneath ivy, with a faint spiral still etched into the surface.

I dug.

My hands blistered. The air grew colder, even though the sun was still high.

Finally, I hit something solid.

Another box.

But this one wasn’t metal. It looked like… stone. With veins of something shimmering through it—like moonlight frozen in rock.

There was no lock, no hinges. Just a faint symbol that pulsed faintly when my fingers brushed it.

I didn’t open it.

Not yet.

The letter had been clear: wait for the full moon.

So now, here I am—waiting. Watching. The deer haven’t returned, but every night, I feel like something’s watching me from the woods. Not in a threatening way… just waiting.

Whatever happens next, I know one thing for sure:

This land is keeping secrets. And somehow, I’ve been chosen to uncover them.