The old merchant had said it would take two days.
It took three.
Sakura blamed the desert.
The desert blamed nobody.
That was the problem.
By the third afternoon, the rocky hills finally stood before her.
Jagged stone rose from the sea of sand like the remains of some ancient giant.
The wind had weakened.
The heat remained.
The desert was nothing if not committed to its craft.
Sakura climbed a narrow path between the rocks.
The trail was faint.
Almost invisible.
Several times she was convinced she had gone the wrong way.
Then she saw it.
Green.
A flash of green hidden between the cliffs.
Her pace quickened.
The path widened.
The rocks parted.
And suddenly—
she stopped.
An oasis lay before her.
Crystal water reflected the afternoon sun.
Tall grass surrounded its shores.
Palm trees swayed gently in the breeze.
And at the center—
stood a massive tree.
Sakura's breath caught.
The tree from the sketch.
Not similar.
Not close.
The same tree.
The twisted trunk.
The enormous branches.
Even the strange split near the base.
It was identical.
For several seconds, she simply stared.
The sketch suddenly felt much more real.
Someone had sat here.
Someone had drawn this place.
Someone connected to Haruto.
Or perhaps—
Haruto himself.
The thought sent her heart racing.
Sakura slowly approached the water's edge.
The oasis was quiet.
Almost too quiet.
No travelers.
No animals.
No signs of habitation.
Only wind.
Water.
And the giant tree.
It felt forgotten.
As though the world had overlooked it.
Her eyes narrowed.
A familiar feeling crept into her chest.
The same feeling she'd experienced while hearing about the missing city.
The same feeling she'd felt inside the Archives.
This place wasn't hidden.
It was ignored.
There was a difference.
Sakura walked toward the tree.
Its shadow stretched across the ground.
Cool and welcoming after days beneath the desert sun.
Then she noticed something.
Carvings.
Tiny marks cut into the bark.
Old.
Weathered.
Nearly erased by time.
She stepped closer.
Most were impossible to understand.
Names.
Symbols.
Dates.
The traces of countless travelers.
Then she saw one that looked newer.
Not recent.
But newer.
Her fingers brushed against the bark.
A simple drawing.
A mountain.
A river.
A sun.
Three symbols connected by a line.
Sakura frowned.
It meant nothing to her.
Yet something about it felt familiar.
Like a half-remembered dream.
She studied it for another moment before sighing.
"Great."
The tree was speaking in riddles now.
Wonderful.
A voice suddenly interrupted her thoughts.
"That's not a riddle."
Sakura jumped.
Her hand immediately moved toward the knife at her belt.
She spun around.
A young boy stood a few meters away.
Thin.
Dust-covered.
Perhaps thirteen years old.
A satchel hung from one shoulder.
Several books poked out from the top.
Books.
In the middle of the desert.
Naturally.
The universe apparently found scholars funny.
The boy looked more surprised than frightened.
As though he hadn't expected anyone else to be here.
"Sorry."
He adjusted his glasses.
"Didn't mean to scare you."
Sakura stared.
Then pointed at him.
"You appeared out of nowhere."
"Technically I walked here."
"That's not the point."
The boy considered this.
"Fair."
Sakura sighed.
Another scholar.
She could feel it already.
The signs were obvious.
The glasses.
The books.
The complete lack of concern regarding normal social behavior.
Abel would probably adopt him.
The thought was horrifying.
The boy stepped closer to the tree.
Then pointed toward the carving.
"That's a map."
Sakura blinked.
"What?"
"A map."
He sounded confused by her confusion.
"The mountain is north."
"The river is east."
"The sun marks the destination."
Silence.
Sakura looked at the carving.
Then at the boy.
Then back at the carving.
"What kind of person turns directions into drawings?"
The boy thought about it.
"An artist?"
The answer hit a little too hard.
Because suddenly—
she knew exactly what kind of person would do that.
Haruto.
A man who preferred sketches over notes.
Drawings over instructions.
Beauty over practicality.
The realization made her laugh despite herself.
Of course.
Of course he would leave directions like this.
The boy tilted his head.
"Did I say something funny?"
"No."
Sakura smiled faintly.
"Just something familiar."
The wind stirred the leaves above them.
The massive tree creaked softly.
And for the first time since entering the oasis—
Sakura felt as though she was no longer following a trail.
She was following Haruto.
One sketch at a time.