Quatermain's Journal
I came upon the place by the usual means. A map of questionable origin, traded for more than it was worth, and less than it claimed to be. The markings were crude, the directions uncertain, but there was enough there to suggest intent. That is often all that is required.
The journey itself offered little by way of comfort. Days passed through heat that did not relent, and nights that seemed louder than the day. The insects found me early and did not leave. Bites upon bites, each one itching long after the last had faded.
At one point, I was followed. Whether out of curiosity or warning, I could not say. Spears were thrown, though none found their mark. I took this not as mercy, but as instruction to keep moving.
The entrance revealed itself only when I had ceased looking for it: a narrow break in the rock, no wider than a man’s shoulders, descending into a cool that felt unnatural after the days before it.
The chamber opened without warning. Above, the ceiling stretched high and uneven, lined with formations that had taken their time to arrive. Stalagmites hung in varying lengths, each one formed by the slow insistence of water and stone.
It was then I saw it.
One formation differed from the rest. Not in shape, nor in colour, but in what it held. Encased within the body of the stalagmite, as though time itself had grown around it, was an object clearly not of the cave. A key.
Iron by the look of it, though untouched by the corrosion one might expect. It sat suspended within the crystal, neither placed nor forced, but captured. Or perhaps preserved.
Eventually, I did what I had come to do. With care, and no small effort, I freed the piece from its hold. The stone gave way reluctantly, not with violence, but with a quiet resistance, as though it had grown accustomed to its burden.
The key remained intact. I did not linger after that.
Some places are not meant for study. Only for finding.
— Q
The Mystery
Nature preserves remarkable things. Amber captures insects, ice preserves entire creatures, and caves patiently create crystal formations over countless centuries. The Stalagmite Key imagines another possibility. What if the earth itself chose to preserve an object whose purpose had not yet come?
Additional Archive Photograph
Quatermain Field Observation
Some artifacts invite questions that can never be answered. That is their purpose. The moment certainty arrives, the mystery quietly leaves the room.
Archive Notes
Period: Modern Creation
Associated Location: The Quatermain Archive
Classification: Curiosity
Historical Status: Original Quatermain Design
Archive Status: Available through the Quatermain Emporium (£49)
Creator: David Hardware
Specification: Individually handmade glass resin artifact with embedded key. Each example displays natural variations in colour, texture and inclusions.