The town of Eldermere had always been quiet, its streets lined with old brick buildings that seemed to lean slightly as if whispering secrets to each other. Most people who lived there didn’t pay much attention to the peculiarities of their surroundings—until the symbols began appearing. It started with a single mark on the wall of an abandoned house near the edge of town. A jagged spiral, etched into the weathered stone with such precision that it looked like it had been carved by a tool rather than a hand. No one knew how it got there. The owner of the house had long since moved away, and the locals just shrugged it off as graffiti. But then more symbols appeared—on fences, on trees, even on the wooden signpost at the entrance of the town. They were all different: some were spirals, others were sharp lines forming strange shapes that seemed to shift when you looked at them too long. People began to talk. Some said they were ancient runes, others claimed they were messages from another world. A local historian named Elias Varnell took an interest. He spent his evenings poring over old books and maps, searching for any mention of the symbols. He found nothing in the official records, but he did come across a forgotten journal in the attic of the library. It belonged to a man who had lived in Eldermere over a century ago. The journal spoke of "the markings of the unseen," and of how they would appear when the town was ready. Elias couldn’t shake the feeling that something was watching. He began to notice the symbols everywhere. They were not just random; they formed patterns that only made sense when viewed from certain angles or at specific times of day. One evening, while walking through the woods behind his house, he saw a cluster of them glowing faintly under the moonlight. When he reached out to touch one, the ground beneath him trembled, and the air grew colder. He returned home that night, heart pounding, and wrote down everything he had seen. The next morning, he found a new symbol carved into his doorframe—a perfect circle with a line through it, like an eye. He felt a strange pull, as if the symbol was calling to him. Over the following weeks, the symbols multiplied. They appeared in places no one could explain, and each one carried a subtle energy that made the air feel heavier. Some people reported dreams of strange landscapes and voices speaking in a language they couldn’t understand. Others swore they saw shadows moving where there should be none. Elias decided to investigate further. He followed the symbols to a clearing deep in the forest, where the earth was strangely soft and the trees stood in unnatural symmetry. At the center of the clearing, there was a large stone slab covered in symbols. As he approached, the symbols began to glow, and the wind picked up, carrying with it a low, humming sound that resonated in his bones. He knelt beside the stone and traced the symbols with his fingers. The moment his skin touched them, a wave of warmth spread through his body, and for a brief moment, he saw something—images flickering at the edge of his mind. A city of glass and light, floating above the clouds. A figure standing at the edge of a great chasm, watching. Then, just as quickly, the vision faded, and the symbols went dark again. Elias stumbled back, breathless. He had no idea what he had just experienced, but he knew one thing: the symbols were not meant to be ignored. They were a message, a warning, or perhaps an invitation. He returned to town and tried to warn the others, but most dismissed him as eccentric. Only a few believed him, and even they were unsure what to do. The symbols continued to appear, and the atmosphere in Eldermere grew heavier, as if the town itself was holding its breath. One night, Elias went back to the clearing. The symbols had changed, forming a new pattern that pulsed with a soft blue light. He reached out again, and this time, the ground opened beneath him. A tunnel, smooth and seamless, stretched downward into darkness. He hesitated, then stepped forward. As he descended, the air became cooler, and the walls shimmered with faint, shifting symbols. He could hear whispers now, not loud, but persistent, like a song just out of reach. At the end of the tunnel, there was a door. It was made of a material that wasn’t wood or metal, something else entirely. On the surface, the same symbols glowed softly. Elias placed his hand on the door. It swung open without a sound. Beyond it, there was nothing. Just endless space, filled with stars that blinked slowly, as if breathing. And in the distance, a shape moved—something vast, watching, waiting. He turned back, but the tunnel was gone. The clearing was empty. The symbols had vanished. When he returned to town, no one remembered the symbols. Not even the ones who had seen them. But Elias knew what he had seen, and he never spoke of it again. He simply watched the sky, waiting for the next sign.