Once we connected the edges of the map— we foolishly believed we put to bed the mysteries of the world.

We were wrong. I was wrong.

Tarov Del Fuego called me through my dreams with its flames.

As if the earth stretched out to remind me we had not conquered as we thought— the seas rose like serpents of old. Wild & thrashing— the crew survived through fortune.

Once we landed on the black sand beach at the edge of a tattered map— the crew left a sacrifice of lantern oil, bread, a silk scarf, and a live goat for whatever force sheparded us through the storms.

A stone statue stood at the edge of the beach we landed on— moss ran along the cracks. It seemed as ancient as the sand it sat upon. The dark, emerald waters gave us a final wave before we turned and headed into the jungle.