Merlin woke before the sun fully reached the forest.
For a moment he remained still inside the hollow, staring at the uneven ceiling of roots and bark above him.
The forest sounded the same.
The river still flowed nearby. Leaves shifted softly in the wind. Somewhere deeper in the trees, birds called to each other like nothing had changed.
And yet sleep no longer felt as deep as before.
Merlin sat up slowly and reached for the dagger beside him out of habit. His fingers rested against the handle for a brief moment before letting go.
His eyes drifted toward the entrance of the hollow.
He could still remember the fox's eyes.
Merlin looked away.
The fire pit outside had long gone cold. Several strips of dried fish still hung from the rack beside it, swaying faintly with the morning breeze.
For a while he simply stared at them.
Then he stood.
The container rested near the hollow wall where he had left it the night before. Merlin picked it up and tested the weight in his hands.
Too awkward to carry far.
The thought surfaced naturally.
Merlin frowned slightly.
Then set the container down and began searching the surrounding area for vines.
The work took most of the morning.
He tied longer vines to the corners of the wooden container, adjusting them repeatedly until the weight rested properly against his back. The shape remained stiff and uneven, more box than bag, but it held firmly enough when he tested it.
Good enough.
After that, Merlin found a long branch near the riverbank and stripped the smaller twigs from it with his dagger until only the smooth pole remained.
He carried it with him for the rest of the day.
The river greeted him with the same quiet current as always.
Fishing had become easier now.
The basket moved through the water almost naturally in his hands. Sometimes he missed. Most times he didn't.
By midday several fish already rested near the shore.
By evening there were more than enough.
Merlin cleaned them beside the river without much thought. The motions had become familiar. Cut. Separate. Wash. Preserve.
His hands moved almost automatically.
When he finished, he packed the dried strips carefully into the wooden container along with several fruits he had gathered earlier.
The container felt heavier now.
Useful.
For the first time, Merlin carried everything with him instead of leaving part of it behind at the hollow.
The realization didn't reach him immediately.
The sun had already begun to lower by the time he returned.
Golden light filtered through the trees as Merlin stepped back into the clearing.
Then he stopped.
The hollow sat exactly the same as before.
The fire pit.
The drying rack.
The stone beside the entrance where he usually sat.
Nothing had changed.
And yet the place felt strangely empty.
Merlin slowly slid the container from his shoulders and set it down near the entrance.
Then he looked inside it.
Food.
Water.
The dagger.
The fire-starting stone.
Fruit.
Preserved fish.
Everything he needed was already there.
Merlin's eyes drifted toward the trees beyond the clearing.
Toward the direction of the road.
For a long moment he said nothing.
Then his gaze slowly returned to the hollow.
There wasn't much left here anymore.
It'll be dark soon, Merlin thought as he took a step toward the hollow.
No.
Merlin stopped.
His foot remained planted where it landed.
It'll be dark soon.
He had said something similar yesterday.
And the day before that.
And several times before then.
He could always leave tomorrow.
The road wasn't going anywhere.
The forest wasn't either.
Another excuse.
Merlin looked back at the container resting beside him.
Food.
Water.
The dagger.
The stone for making fire.
Everything he had spent days gathering.
Everything he needed.
It was already on his back.
The hollow had protected him.
Fed him.
Given him a place to sleep.
But it had never been the destination.
Merlin looked toward the trees.
Toward the road.
The sun was already beginning its descent.
Was there enough time to find shelter before nightfall?
He didn't know.
There was no way to know.
Merlin bent down, lifted the container onto his shoulders, and adjusted the straps.
Then he started walking.
Whatever happened next...
At least now he was prepared.
Merlin didn't look back.
The road stretched ahead between the trees, little more than a strip of packed earth winding through the forest.
He followed it.
The river remained somewhere to his left.
Sometimes he could hear the water.
Sometimes the trees grew too thick and the sound disappeared completely, only to return again a short while later.
Whenever that happened, Merlin slowed until he found it again.
He wasn't following the road.
Not entirely.
The river was familiar.
As long as he could hear it, he knew he hadn't wandered too far.
The wooden container shifted slightly against his back with every step.
It was heavier than he expected.
Several times he stopped to tighten the vines holding it together.
The knots held.
Good enough.
The sun continued sinking behind the trees.
Long shadows stretched across the road.
The birds grew quieter.
One by one, the sounds of the day disappeared until only insects and the distant rush of water remained.
Darkness settled over the forest.
Merlin kept walking.
He had walked through the forest at night before.
Usually it was to gather firewood.
Never this far.
The darkness between the trees seemed deeper away from the hollow.
Every broken branch sounded louder.
Every movement caught his attention.
More than once his hand drifted toward the dagger at his side before relaxing again.
Nothing came.
The road continued.
Hours passed.
When his legs began to ache, Merlin stopped beside the river.
He knelt, cupped water into his hands, and drank.
The cold water washed away some of the exhaustion, but not all of it.
His shoulders ached beneath the weight of the container.
His back refused to straighten completely.
After only a short rest, he continued walking.
The moon crossed the sky.
Eventually even that disappeared behind thick clouds.
Merlin walked anyway.
He wasn't sure when the forest began to change.
The trees slowly grew farther apart.
The undergrowth became thinner.
More light reached the ground.
The sound of the river drifted farther away.
Then, without warning...
The trees ended.
The road did not.
It lay shattered before him.
Long cracks split the stone apart.
Sections had sunk into the earth while others jutted upward at uneven angles.
Some pieces had been swallowed completely by dry soil and brittle grass.
Whatever had happened here...
It had happened long ago.
Merlin stopped.
Only then did he notice how tired he was.
His legs felt heavy.
His shoulders burned beneath the weight of the container.
Even standing still took effort.
Before him stretched open land as far as his tired eyes could see.
Dry grass bent beneath the morning wind.
The earth looked pale and cracked.
Only a handful of lonely trees stood scattered across the landscape.
Behind him was the forest.
Ahead...
Nothing.
Merlin frowned.
It felt wrong.
The forest had always been endless.
No matter where he looked, there had always been another tree.
Another patch of shade.
Another sound.
Now there was only empty sky.
The sun slowly rose over the horizon.
Its crimson light spread across the empty plain, chasing away the last shadows of the night.
Merlin stood silently, staring at the unfamiliar world.
For the first time since leaving the hollow...
He had nowhere to hide.