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The suspicious tree turned out to be an ordinary, boring tree with not treasure for her to reap. Emmy circled it twice, tried climbing up the lowest branch and failing because of her shoes, and even risked sticking her hand inside the hollow. The result? Nothing, zilch, nada. Disappointed, she turned to the next tree and the one after that, but both yielded nothing as well. After dusting herself off—aah, she shouldn't have worn white today!—Emmy pulled up her mobile to check the coordinates again. The marker on the screen was directly under her position, so it should have been around the area. She was about to search that blasted suspicious tree one more time when Keir called for her. 

"Hold up! I think I heard a cry of pain," Emmy said as she sauntered toward him, hands already digging in her shoulder bag for the small first aid that she was required to carry at all times (or so said her manager). She put her excitement over Keir finding the treasure momentarily on hold and took the time to tend to the cut that ran along his finger. Without warning, she sprayed some alcohol on the wound and wrapped it with a plaster. Small wound or not, if Keir's hands were injured, Emmy was always quick to act. There was no way she'd let him risk sustaining injuries that could potentially impede him from playing his instruments. She grinned up at him when she finished and only then did she refocus her attention on the treasure he had found. It turned out to be broken shards of a mirror, but that didn't matter. Treasure was treasure!

"Mirror shards, huh? That's interesting." Emmy carefully took one of the shards, pinching the flat surface so as to avoid the sharp edges, and examined it, tracing the indecipherable writing on the back before checking the one Keir still held. There was writing on it as well, and it seemed to connect with the one she had. "Do you think you could read this?"

Emmy pieced them together and turned it around to show Keir the writing, but the writing was too fragmented to be legible. She waited for Keir to take a shot at deciphering it before turning the mirror over. Her overactive imagination was already kicking into gear, leaving her extremely curious about the origins of the shards. Maybe the person who left it was superstitious and he left the shards thinking it would scatter his supposed seven years of bad luck. Or, maybe this was someone's prized possession. Then again, they could also just actually be picking up rubbish. The app hadn't mentioned any specifics, so there was no way of knowing whether this was the treasure. But that was boring, so she thought of another scenario.

"Keir," Emmy said quietly, feigned terror tingeing the tone of her voice. "What if this is a Horcrux?" She stared at Keir for beat, completely serious, before she burst out laughing. If only. She'd always been the starry-eyed sort (it actually helped a lot when she was acting); she certainly wouldn't mind being whisked away in a magical adventure. But since that wasn't possible, she learned to make do with the magic of green screen.

"Well, I suppose whatever it is, it's ours now," she said once she'd regained her composure, looking over their reflection in the mirror.

…wait, what?

Emmy rubbed her eyes with her free hand and turned to Keir, confusion settling in her features. "Um, did you see that as well or have I finally gone mad?"

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Cyrill knew Phaylin well enough to realize when she was hiding something. She did it now with her vague response and sudden burst of eagerness, but instead of speaking up about it, he only cast a suspicious glance her way. It had to do with her source of information, that much he was sure of, and after sifting through at least ten different scenarios, he narrowed it down to one of two things. First, it could be that she had no basis in fact. They could very well be wasting their time, and this whole thing was just her indulging another of her whims. Or, she could have heard some concerning accounts about or around the area and she knew him well enough to know that he wouldn't accompany her anywhere that seemed remotely perilous. Thinking back on it now, he realized it was a no-win situation for him either way.

He sighed and ruffled his hair as he followed her, a gesture he'd come to realize was a sign of defeat, one he usually did when he willingly strung along with Phaylin and her unpredictable antics. Whatever. His curiosity had taken over; there was already no helping it. He grumbled to himself about wearisome women and cursed the small rock he had just accidentally stumbled over. All of this had better be worth the trouble.

The hill was steeper than he expected, and soon enough, he fell behind at least ten paces. Phaylin was hurrying him along, but with his breath already ragged and his legs starting to ache, he knew he couldn't move faster than his current pace. It felt as though the river stretched on forever—quite an exaggeration, he admitted, but he thought he was perfectly justified. Phaylin was still far ahead of him, and even though she appeared like a tiny figure in the distance, he could spot the rigidness in her posture. She was looking to hunt then? Cyrill never understood the appeal of hunting for your own food. It took far too much time and effort. He'd much rather purchase his meat from the markets, where they've been skinned and cut, so all you had to do was cook and eat them.

When the sun hit overhead, its heat becoming inescapable even with his cloak on, Cyrill picked up the pace, eager to get this trip over and done with. The waterfall was visible by now, taking up most of the horizon, and the sound of rushing water was steadily increasing in volume. Below, the plunge pool shimmered unnaturally, as though something underneath was reflecting the rays of the sun. When he finally caught up to Phaylin, all sweaty and out of breath, he pointed out a pair of rabbit that bounded toward the river, motioning for her to get it with her runes. He would have done something himself if he hadn't been so tired. Cyrill took back what he thought about hunting. He understood one of its appeals, now that he was hungry and there were no markets in sight.