Magic still amazed me—the way the wall shimmered and pulled itself open into a doorway never failed to take my breath.
I stepped through into the last room and, of course, there was a tree.
This one, however, was bare. No leaves, no nuts on its branches—everything lay scattered across the ground beneath it in a colorful, crunchy carpet.
I had a sneaking suspicion of what my task would be, and it was quickly confirmed by the baskets arranged neatly against each wall. There was no rhyme this time, no glowing script. I guessed the system had decided I was smart enough to figure it out on my own.
I picked up a leaf and placed it carefully in the basket. Then another. After the second, I stopped.
The system hadn’t set a limit on how many I could carry at once. So… why not try two?
That worked well enough, and before long I upgraded to three, then four, and finally five. Five felt safe. More than that and I risked dropping one—or worse, mixing a nut in by mistake and being forced to start over. The system hadn’t said that would happen, but only a fool would test it.
So, I kept at it. Trip after trip, handful after handful, until what felt like hours later, the last leaf was safely tucked away in its basket.
The nuts went quicker. Without the leaves underfoot, I could gather them without worry. An hour or so later, the task was done.
In the corner of the room, the wall rumbled and split, opening into a doorway.
The final chamber of autumn—at least, I hoped—looked familiar, though the tree here was larger, its branches heavy with both leaves and nuts.
I stepped further in. Behind the tree rose two great walls, each bearing a mural of swirling lines intertwined with leaves and nuts. One mural was complete, its design flowing seamlessly across the surface. The other was unfinished—the same swirling lines were there, but the leaves and nuts appeared only as bluish-white placeholders, glowing softly as if waiting to be filled.
Between the two mural walls rose a short wall, and on it glowed the rhyme.
Upon the wall an image lies,
With colors set before your eyes.
Its twin across waits to be whole,
Leaves and nuts shall make it so.
Pluck them true and set with care,
Each may fit, but none to spare.
Twice the chance for one to place,
Fail again — reset the race.
When all are matched, both shape and hue,
The door shall open, guiding you.
So, the task was clear enough: find the leaves that matched the completed mural and place them into the “empty” one. Nuts too—I couldn’t forget the nuts.
I stood before the finished picture. There were so many leaves and nuts tangled in the design that the only way forward was one at a time. One leaf. One nut. Place it. Then move on.
This was, by far, the most difficult task yet.
At first, the work went slowly but steadily. One leaf, one nut, carefully placed into the mural. Piece by piece, the empty pattern began to fill.
Then I slipped. Just one mistake—and the mural flickered. In an instant, everything vanished. Every bit of progress erased as if I had never started.
I sank down where I stood, tore open a snack, and chewed in silence. It took a few minutes before I could summon the resolve to try again.
This novel's true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.
Attempt two. This time, I checked and double-checked every leaf before placing it. The work was slow, agonizingly slow, but at least it felt steady. I was halfway through when it happened again—one mistake, and the mural collapsed back to nothing.
I almost cried. Almost.
Attempt three. I started again, shoulders heavy with frustration. I didn’t hate the quest, but the feeling gnawed at me that I wasn’t good enough—that no matter how careful I was, I’d fall short.
Still, I pressed on.
I was so careful, moving piece by piece, and perhaps the System noticed. Because this time, something strange happened: the correct leaves and nuts began to shine faintly, as if they had grown brighter, more solid, more real.
A small mercy.
It took a long time, even with the system’s subtle guidance, to finish. Every placement had been nerve-wracking, every mistake a threat hanging over my head. By the time I reached the final piece, my shoulders were tight and my hands trembled from the tension.
When I finally set the last leaf into place, a wave of relief crashed through me, so sharp it left me dizzy. My chest loosened, and I let out a long, shaky breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. The mural responded instantly, the entire design glowing softly against the wall, as if rewarding me for my stubborn persistence.
For the first time in what felt like hours, I allowed myself a smile.
A doorway opened in the wall. I stood there for a moment, steadying myself before stepping forward.
This was it. I was almost done. I just hoped the last room wouldn’t be too difficult. More tasks? Please, no.
The chamber beyond was round, its high ceiling arching overhead like the inside of a dome. In the very center stood a pedestal, and above it floated a seed. It was large, pulsing faintly with a soft blue glow that shimmered from within.
Mana.
Beyond the pedestal, a spiral staircase curled upward, disappearing into the shadows above.
I moved to the pedestal, the whole time expecting something to happen. Some hidden tasks I am not seeing.
Nothing happened.
I took another step closer and reached out to the seed. I looked around, and down and even up.
Nothing.
My fingers curled around the seed, and then it just vanished.
Shit, I just got the seed, and I lost it already. I am in so much trouble now.
I was surprised to find out that I completed the quest as I lost the seed… My tired brain then put two and two together.
“Check your inventory.” Idiot.
I was extremely thankful to see the seed safely stored in my inventory. It wasn’t part of the usual slots I could access, but I trusted that once I had gathered all the required items, they would be made available to me.
I climbed the spiral staircase slowly, every step echoing in the quiet chamber, until I emerged in the very room where the quest had begun. The trapdoor was gone. When I turned back, so was the staircase.
“Call Claire,” I said, activating the crystal.
Her voice came through almost instantly, tight with worry. “Danny! I was so worried about you. How was the quest?”
“It wasn’t dangerous,” I admitted, “but it was… time-consuming. Still, I got what I needed.” I paused, glancing at the faint glow of the seed in my inventory. “A seed.”
“We’ll meet tomorrow, and you can tell me everything. I think I’ll reach level five in the morning.”
“Be careful,” I told her. “We’ll meet at our usual place.”
Only after we said our goodbyes did it hit me—it sounded almost like a date. Our usual place.
I kept a wary eye out for kobolds on the way back and managed to reach my apartment just before dusk. By then I was tired, dirty, and sore, so I took a long shower, letting the hot water wash the weight of the quest from me.
Both my brain and body were spent. I barely made it to bed before sleep claimed me.
Hey everyone! ??
If you’ve been enjoying the story so far, I’d really appreciate it if you could leave a quick ? rating or review. It only takes a second, but it helps a lot with visibility and reaching new readers.