The Lost City Of Gods

The map, etched onto a piece of what felt like petrified wood, showed a narrow cleft in the cliff face, barely visible even to Lucius's sharp eyes. Above the image of the cleft, a series of symbols, unlike anything he'd ever seen, were carved. They resembled a stylized constellation, a twisting serpent, and what looked suspiciously like a Roman numeral "VII."

"Corvus," Lucius whispered, his voice barely audible above the rush of the river. Corvus, a sleek black raven with eyes like polished obsidian, perched on his shoulder, tilting his head as if studying the symbols. The raven had been his unexpected companion since he'd first entered the crystalline cave. It seemed to understand him, responding to his unspoken thoughts with a soft croak or a knowing glance.

Lucius traced the symbols with his fingertip. They felt strangely warm, almost alive beneath his touch. "What do you make of it, old friend?" he asked, more to himself than to the bird. Corvus hopped onto the map, his claws gently scratching against the ancient carvings. He pecked at the constellation, then the serpent, and finally, the Roman numeral VII.

He cocked his head again, as if waiting for Lucius's response before making any suggestion of his own. It felt as though the raven was patiently waiting for him to engage in the process of deduction, to find his own solution. Lucius took a deep breath. The constellation – it looked vaguely familiar. He squinted, remembering his father's countless stories of the Roman constellations, the ones used to navigate the stars at night. That constellation was Cassiopeia. Cassiopeia, the queen, famed for her vanity and pride.

The serpent, then. It reminded him of Aesculapius, the god of medicine, whose symbol was a serpent entwined around a staff. And VII... seven. What could seven represent? Seven hills of Rome? Seven days of the week? Seven wonders of the ancient world? It felt too vague, like a clue that required something more.

Lucius paced back and forth, his brow furrowed in concentration. He examined the symbols again, searching for any hidden connection. Then he noticed it – a subtle detail he'd overlooked. The serpent wasn't just a random image. It was intertwined with the constellation Cassiopeia. The serpent was subtly coiled around the stars forming the queen's throne.

"Seven…" he muttered. "Seven stars… in Cassiopeia!" He counted them carefully. There were five prominent stars, and then two dimmer ones – seven in total. "Corvus, look!" he exclaimed, pointing to the faintest star in the constellation. "The serpent is coiled around all seven stars."

Corvus responded with a sharp, delighted caw and nudged the Roman numeral VII with his beak. It clicked. The riddle wasn't about the meaning of the individual symbols, but their relationship to one another. The solution involved counting the stars!

"Seven steps!" Lucius declared. He looked at the cliff face. The cleft looked impossibly small but he noticed there were some irregularities on the rock, slight ledges carved into its surface, almost invisible at a distance.

"Seven steps up," he added. The idea filled him with excitement. Could it be that easy?

He cautiously approached the cleft in the cliff face. It was steeper and narrower than he expected, almost like a chimney leading upwards. He began his ascent, his heart pounding with both excitement and apprehension. Corvus followed, his black form a silhouette against the pale rock.

The first step was easy, just a slight ledge to hold onto. The second step was a little higher, requiring him to use both his hands and feet. By the fourth step, his arms ached and his legs burned. The narrow passage squeezed him on all sides, and the rock was unforgivingly rough against his hands and knees.

He persevered, fueled by the thrill of the discovery and the promise of what lay beyond. On the sixth step, he noticed something unusual. A tiny, almost invisible crack in the rock, almost concealed beneath the surface of a ledge. He carefully examined the crack, running his fingertip along it. The seventh step. A small recess was hidden there.

Pushing himself up, he found a small, circular depression within the rock. Within this depression, a smooth, dark stone was set. He touched it, and the stone clicked, causing a hidden section of the rock to swing open silently and silently like a door. A passage opened in the rock leading into darkness.

Lucius gasped, then looked up at Corvus. "We did it," he whispered. The raven ruffled his feathers and let out a soft coo of approval. The passage was narrow and dark, but the faint scent of damp earth and something else – something sweet and floral – lured them forward.

As Lucius stepped into the darkness, Corvus perched on his head, a reassuring weight against his scalp. He held his breath, waiting to see what secrets this passage held. The first riddle had been solved, and a new chapter in his adventure had begun. But the faint floral scent piqued his curiosity; it was distinctly familiar, hinting at a possible connection to the iridescent butterflies he'd encountered in his father's armory.

The tunnel wound downwards, the darkness almost absolute. Lucius had to rely entirely on his senses of touch and smell. The damp air hung heavy, thick with the scent of earth and the faint, almost imperceptible fragrance of flowers. He felt a chill on his skin, even though he was sweating from his climb up the cliff face.

After what felt like an eternity, the tunnel opened into a larger cavern. The air here was warmer, more humid, and the sweet floral scent was stronger, almost overwhelming. As Lucius's eyes adjusted to the dim light filtering from some unseen opening above, he saw it. A breathtaking sight unfolded before him.

A subterranean garden. In the centre of this enormous cavern, a lush garden blossomed, bathed in a soft, ethereal glow. Flowers of every imaginable colour, shape and size flourished in the heart of the earth. Strange, luminous fungi pulsed with a gentle light, illuminating the path through the vibrant vegetation. And as he walked further into this hidden world, he saw them - iridescent butterflies, their wings shimmering like stained glass, fluttering amidst the flowers.

They were identical to the ones he'd seen in his father's armory, but these butterflies were even larger and more vibrant, as if nourished by the magic of this hidden place. One of them, a creature with wings like a sunset, alighted on his shoulder.

It seemed as if the butterflies were leading him further into this subterranean paradise. Their magical flight, a captivating spectacle, carried him through this enchanting garden. A sense of awe and wonder filled him as he realized how much more this journey had in store for him. The first riddle was solved, but countless more adventures, challenges, and mysteries lay ahead. And he knew, with a thrill of excitement running through him, that he was ready. The journey had just begun.