You step away from the garden and walk toward the stone building. The door looms taller than you expected, its wood darkened by age and weather. Symbols carved into its surface catch the light. You recognize some of them from history class, courage, honesty, and choice. You raise your hand and knock. The sound echoes louder than you intended. You hear a large creak and a spooky whooshing sound. You hesitate, but then knock again. For a moment, nothing happens. Then the door creaks open on its own. Inside, the air is cool and smells faintly of earth and smoke. The room is wide and circular, lit by shafts of purple light filtering through cracks in the stone ceiling. At the center burns a small fire that gives off no heat—only light. From the shadows, figures step forward. The Druids. Their robes are woven from greens and grays, their faces lined not with age alone, but with thought. One of them studies you closely. "You chose to enter," the Druid says. "That matters." Another gestures toward a stone passage leading downward. "Bravery," she says, "is not the absence of fear. It is moving forward while fear watches." You descend into the passage. The light fades. The walls close in. You hear the low rumble of stone shifting, and suddenly the ground beneath you drops. You fall, and land safely on solid Earth. A hidden platform rises beneath your feet. The darkness lifts. The Druids stand before you once more, as if the passage never existed. "You did not turn back," the first Druid says.