From the shadowed mouth of the cave overlooking the market square, a young mapmaker kneels beside a half-finished parchment as the village below erupts into celebration—the watchtower bells are ringing because a caravan has just crossed the great stone bridge carrying news that the northern pass, sealed by winter for months, is finally open. Merchants rush to unpack brightly painted wagons, children weave through the crowd chasing ribbons caught in the breeze, and the scent of fresh bread drifts from the ovens lining the square. As the mapmaker carefully sketches the newly accessible road winding toward the distant mountains, a rider splashes through the river and gallops toward the castle with a sealed message, unaware that the route being drawn at that very moment will soon guide explorers to a forgotten city hidden beyond the mist-covered peaks.