Written by an unknown hand, etched into some desert rock, here beside us as we climb the mountain:
FLA-FLE
HAPTO
NESCESSY
The letters are familiar, but the words are babble to us. Locals warn the pilgrims ascending this mountain not to repeat the phrase, for it is considered evil magic. Yet, always there is one of you whispering it under his breath. It is a mystery. Probably directions, or perhaps a warning of some sort. A name and a title? Some memorandum of a great deed? A juvenile insult? This graffiti could be anything. All we know is it’s old.
Tale Told 