The slope gets increasingly higher, and so we arrive at a steep elevated cliff, which made the river into a series of waterfalls. A beautiful sight, but the cold vapor chills me to the bone.

"Bridge!" Colin shouts joyfully, pointing upward. He seems to have much better vision than me. I squint and see that the gap above us is indeed connected by a black line.

"Definitely a bridge. But how do we get there?" I respond.

While I think, Colin starts climbing the cliffside, grabbing onto rocks and bushes, and I have no choice but to go after him. I crawl behind him while groaning, almost on all fours. I'm so tired of this! I don't have enough air, breathing with my mouth like a dog. My legs constantly slip. My fingernails are broken, the remains of red polish ominously stand out from under the dirt. I try not to look up in order to not see the remaining distance. Even without looking, it is obvious that the climb will not take less than an hour of hellish work for my limbs.

The slope turns into a wide flat area, and I climb on it like a prehistoric amphibian onto land. My vision is getting cloudy. In addition to a numb forehead and a noise in my ears, this is a definite sign of me being on the verge of fainting. I need to rest, only five or ten minutes.

I suddenly feel a warm object in my hand - a bottle. Colin looks at me with pity as I gulp down its contents and says:

"By the way, my watch started up again."

"Wonderful!" I whisper. "Absolutely marvelous. But instead I have stopped, I am a corpse."

"You're too red to be a corpse." Colin smirks. "And I have good news. There is a forgotten road around here. I just took a walk on it, let's say it's not suited for romantic journeys, but it's better than climbing."

"Five more minutes!"

"Enough pitying yourself." Colin says sternly. "Either you get up and we go together, or..."

"...Or?"

"Or I go without you and you will have to catch up."

"Go ahead."

"As if. Come on, get up already!" He pulls my hand up. "Get u-u-u-p!"

I don't have enough energy or nerves to argue. I look around with a cloudy stare. Colin was joking about the road. It is more of a path between rocks than anything, but still, it exists and leads somewhere up the cliff. We follow it between the rocky ledges until before us opens up a moss-covered construction that is rooted into the ground, which at some point used to be a water mill. On the remains of a giant water wheel, barely recognizable under a layer of dirt and dry vegetation, is a small stream. The main river has long since changed direction and now the mill rots down in this dry cliffside.

For the thousandth time I feel bad about not being able to take a picture. Colin pauses in awe, then after mumbling "I'll be back in a minute", runs off to explore the mill, there... jumping on the wheel like a kid. Where does his strength come from? Meanwhile I will sit on this rock to rest before another "flight with geese."

I can see the sun piercing through the veil of clouds and I can feel its warmth on my back. Complete silence surrounds me, the only noise being the gentle hum of the waterfall, and the occasional sound from somewhere near the mill.

I can see the pathway getting wider and, going around the mill, stretching by the hill. I can clearly see its boundaries due to rocks lying on the sides. I imagine how in older times this road was taken by a cart full of flour, drawn by a peasant's horse, with its owner lazily lying down on a seat, occasionally whipping it. For some reason my imagination made the owner a big, apple-cheeked man with a meaty nose and plump red lips, wearing a light shirt and pants. Dirty wide feet stick out from under the pants. The whip cringely whistles in the air and hits the stallion's brown back. Poor creature.

I shake my head. It seems like the lack of sleep shows itself more and more. Just a little bit and I would see my dreams while awake. It is time to leave, but... where is Colin?

I look around - he was just jumping on the wheel! Maybe he climbed inside? Such a little prick, When I need to rest he's all "Get up!" but when it's about exploring an old mill, then time suddenly doesn't matter?

I loudly call Colin's name, but the only response is a slight echo. I shout again, and losing my patience I go towards the mill, almost tripping in the dry grass. Fear starts to show itself in my heart. I am already by the wheel, walking around this pile of moss-covered wood, looking in every crack. Colin's backpack lies near the tiny stream, but he himself is nowhere to be found. A few steps away lies a bundle of clothes, no doubt the same ones that Colin was in half an hour ago. I pick up the clothes with trembling hands and from the pockets of his jeans fall down numerous tiny coins, made from a yellow metal.

I pick up one of them, a thick and heavy coin, and my heart speeds up as I see the symbol etched onto it - letters V and A, one above the other: Valhalla. On the other side of the coin is a schematic image of an eye inside a knot of three triangles... a new mystery?

I've had enough of these mysteries!

"Colin, where are you?" My next hopeless shout sounds like cawing and ends in me coughing my lungs out.

Silence. I can even hear my heart beating.

I don't believe, can't believe that Colin disappeared just like that, in an open space fully lit by autumn sunlight. I keep circling this damn place, in search of a hole or crack. I then crawl on all fours inside the mill, mindlessly feeling every overgrown plank. My head is spinning and I just want to lie down and forget this feeling of anguish. I don't have enough energy to shout anymore so I stand still and look around with tear-filled eyes. The only sounds are from the waterfall and the stream.

This can't be happening! I have no idea what to do!

Run into town and seek help? Maybe that is the right call, but how do I make myself leave?

But deep inside me grows a strange assurance that it is time to leave.