Rovan tried to open the lid of the cassette and could not open it. He started pushing his fingernails into the crack between the lid and the cassette, loosening the lid by it. Finally he got it. He carefully slid his fingernail along the crack to enlarge it. Soon he was able to insert the nails with both hands and slowly managed to open the old lid. He saw cloth. An object seem to hide below it. Rovan put the cassette on the floor and reached down with both hands to lift out what was inside. He put it down on his legs and flipped the cloth back. There was a book underneath. Rovan frowned. A book? In a cassette and in this place with the staff? What kind of book was it? A magic book? He looked at it and read the title "The 8th Path". He read? Rovan could not read, and yet he could understand the let-ters exactly. He opened the book curiously. He could read! He always wanted to be able to read and had to have everything read to him so far. He looked at the first page. There were only lines from top to bottom in different widths that sometimes had hooks or con-nections. What was that? He had never seen anything like it. He frowned at the picture. Suddenly there was a voice in his head, imperious, a male voice and a female voice at the same time.
"This is the 8th path. The path will only reveal itself to the one whose fate it is to walk on it. The chances are that you are not the person who can walk this path. Read this book though it is not intended for you, it will destroy you. But should you be the one or the one chosen to walk on the 8th path, it will be your loyal advisor, bravest companion, your sharpest blade and yours be the greatest treasure. Now turn to the second page. "
Rovan was completely confused. Did the book speak to him? And what is next? He was hardly the chosen one. Should he turn the page now? Would he be destroyed then? But the voice had instructed him to go on. Rovan put his fingers uncertainly on the next page and turned the page. This looked similar to the first page, only that only two thirds of the page was covered from the top again with lines of different widths with connecting lines and hooks. The lower third looked more like a font, running from left to right in lines, but there was only a combination of thick dots and dashes in the lines. The voice rang in his head again:
"Now, seeker, read the lines below this message. If you are unable to read the lines, the book is not for you. Put it aside. Keep it or sell it. It will be of no use to you and will only bring ruin. Don't try to destroy it or learn the language. Don't deny its power." Rovan looked at the lines below the lines. Dots and dashes. And dashes and more dots and ... wait. Words formed! Rovan could read it. "Welcome Rovan from the Empire. I have been waiting for you for a long time. This book is written for you. You are its owner. You will go on a journey, long and dangerous. But also full of knowledge, new experiences and great rewards. Always follow the book. Always read only one page and follow the instructions. Do not continue reading. Do not try to cheat the book. You only have one chance. Only when you have achieved what the book requires of you turn to the next page. Find a safe place, get some food and a bed to sleep. We need some time just for ourselves. Read the next page when you have achieved the above. "
Rovan closed the book. It couldn´t do something wrong by that. What a strange happen-ing. He only had annihilations, dangers, and rewards in his head. Should he do what the book asked of him? To whom did the voice that spoke to him belong? What kind of dan-gers and rewards did the book talk about? However, what else should he do? He had not learned a profession, just helped his father a little. That would not be enough to live as a hunter. And then he also needed an employer. The game in the woods belonged to the baron, he could not kill it without his consent. Otherwise he would have to go far into the mountains, beyond the marks of the Empire and hunt there. But these areas were full of dangers. Goblin tribes populated the mountain region. Bears, wolves and even monsters such as manticors, tree dragons and mountain lions lived in these regions. He would not survive six months there. No, he would pursue his plan and go to Uhlheim. But he had to hide the staff. It was far too conspicuous and someone would try to take it from him. The book could be hidden quite easily. Then he remembered that he had taken a small leath-er bag in the underground cave. He fished it out of his belt pouch and opened the leather cord, which kept it tightly closed. Then he looked inside. There was a big black, polished stone in the bag. He reached inside and took out the stone. This felt cold and angry. Rovan looked at the stone fearfully and as he held it, a deep sense of despair came over him. He dropped him to the floor and shoved his legs away from him. Something bad had touched him and reached for his heart, and Rovan swallowed several times and had to breathe in and out deeply to get rid of the lumps in his throat. Slowly the feeling left him. By the seven! What a cruel thing! But it was certainly valuable. He would hide the staff and keep the book. He would sell the stone. Someone would pay him a good price for sure. He took the stone and quickly put it in the bag. Then the pouch disappeared into the belt pouch. Rovan decided to collect branches with leaves. He wrapped the staff with the branches and made a bundle from it which he could carry on his back. Nobody would notice that he was carrying a staff. And the cassette looked old and rusty, of little value. As soon as his brushwood bundle was finished, he strapped it on his back, tied the box to his belt and started walking. He followed the road west to Uhlheim
Rovan had been following the road for about 2 hours now and he had met a loaded car-riage so far, nothing else. Suddenly he stopped because he heard a noise. It sounded like water, a stream or river must be nearby. Rovan followed the sound into the forest and indeed, his ears led him to a small cliff below which, maybe 2 steps below, a stream ran. Rovan looked around hastily, hungry and thirsty. He was looking for a way down to the stream. The hill flattened to the right. He followed the stream downstream and found a place where he came down to the water. A small strip with round washed pebbles led about one step from the water and about half a step wide along the stream. Rovan knelt carefully on the pebbles so as not to hurt his knees. Then he leaned forward and drew water from the stream with his hands and drank greedily. The crystal-clear cold water ran down his throat and felt almost painful. Then he took his water bag from his belt and filled it up. Now he was a little calmer. He was hungry like a bear, but at least he had water to drink again. He got up carefully. In spite of everything, the stones had pushed through his thin trousers and left painful spots. He rubbed his legs and then followed the pebble beach along the stream, upstream. The hill on his left continued to rise and finally he came to a place where a large tree stood on the rise. The water had washed away the earth at a higher level and now the roots of the tree were free of earth. Rovan frowned. Nobody ever came here. The hill was too high to cross the stream from there and fishing was also not good because the stream was too flat. If the water level rose again in the spring, the pebble beach would probably also be gone. This was an excellent place to hide the staff! He pulled it from his back and started drilling a hole in the open ground at his chest level. The soil was loose and fell out of the wall in large chunks. Rovan drilled and scraped the hole when he suddenly remembered that someone could see him from the other side of the stream. If someone saw him with the stick, he would definitely try to take it from him or come later when Rovan has left and take the staff from its hiding..The value of the staff was obvious. He feverishly accelerated his digging. For almost 1 hour he worked on a long strip into which he could slide the stick and then bury it. Finally he was done, put the stick in it and closed the hole with earth from the ground. He checked his work with his hands smeared with the loamy earth. He sincerely hoped that the water would not rise so high and wash away the earth from the hidden staff. However, he would not leave the staff here forever. He will come back soon with a suitable bag to pick it up. Then his eyes fell on the heap of earth in front of the hiding place. He narrowed his eyes a little and looked at the earth. If someone came over here it would be obvious that someone had been digging and maybe that person would then go looking for it. The earth had to vanish. Rovan shoveled the earth into the stream with his hands. There it was quickly washed away. He distributed the rest of it with his boots between the pebbles. He contemplated his work with satisfaction. Now he could also throw away the bundle of branches and could move forward quickly.