For nearly three hundred years, no one in the Kingdom of Veyra had opened the northern gate. Nobody remembered exactly why.

Stories circulated about creatures in the mountains, armies that disappeared, and travelers who never returned. The details changed with every generation, but the conclusion remained the same. Whatever was beyond that gate was best left alone.

Then the wells began to dry.

At first, King Aldren wasn’t concerned. Veyra had survived droughts before, and his advisers assured him the rains would return.

But three months passed, and the rains never came.

The king summoned his council.

“Your Majesty, there’s another river,” his chief engineer announced.

“Where?”

“Beyond the northern gate.”

The room went quiet.

“Has anyone seen it?” Aldren asked.

“Not in our lifetime.”

“Then how do we know it exists?”

“We have maps.”

“How old?”

“Four hundred years.”

Aldren leaned back in his chair.

Within an hour, the council had identified seventeen reasons why an expedition might fail. The mountains were dangerous. The maps were unreliable. Nobody knew what lived beyond the walls.

Aldren had spent thirty years keeping his people safe. He wasn’t about to risk their lives on a rumor drawn onto an ancient map.

The king ordered another study. Three weeks later, the study recommended further investigation. Meanwhile, the wells kept drying.

One morning, a young stoneworker named Taren showed up at the palace asking for permission to travel beyond the northern gate.

“Have you ever been outside the kingdom?” Aldren asked.

“No, Your Majesty.”

“Do you know what lives in those mountains?”

“No.”

“Then why would I send you?”

“Because we need water.”

“We have water.”

“Not for much longer.”

The king studied him.

“Young man, courage without knowledge is foolishness.”

Taren nodded.

“I agree.”

“Then you understand my concern.”

“Of course. That’s why I want to go look. I’m not asking you to move the entire kingdom.”

Aldren frowned.

“And what happens if you don’t return?”

Taren considered the question. “I suppose you’ll have one less stoneworker.”

The king wasn’t amused. “Are you not afraid?”

“Terrified.”

“Then perhaps you should listen to your fear.”

Taren glanced toward the palace windows, where hundreds of citizens waited in line for water.

“I have been listening to it, Your Majesty. It has quite a lot to say.”

The king dismissed him.

Another month passed.

The harvest failed. Villages were abandoned. The royal engineers reported that the deepest reservoirs were nearly empty.

That evening, Aldren found Taren repairing a wall near the palace gardens.

“I thought you would have left by now,” the king said.

“The gate is locked.”

Aldren almost smiled.

“Suppose the stories are true. Suppose something terrible is waiting in those mountains. What would you do?”

“Probably run.”

“That’s your plan?”

“If something tries to kill me, yes.”

The king laughed.

“You don’t sound particularly brave.”

“I never claimed to be.”

“Then what makes you think you’ll succeed?”

Taren set down his tools. “I don’t know if I will.”

The king waited for him to continue, but Taren had nothing else to add.

Aldren looked toward the city. He had refused the expedition because he couldn’t guarantee the safety of five men. Now thousands were running out of water, and he couldn’t guarantee their safety either.

The following morning, the northern gate opened for the first time in nearly three hundred years.

Taren departed with four volunteers, two horses, and a map nobody was entirely sure how to read.

On the fourth day, one horse returned without its rider. On the sixth, a storm swept across the mountains.

On the eighth, a messenger arrived.

They had found the river.

It was wider than the maps suggested, but reaching it had been difficult. One volunteer had broken his leg, another had nearly drowned, and the mountain trail would require months of work before water could reach Veyra.

Still, the river was real, and the king immediately ordered an aqueduct built. Even then, the work was dangerous. Supplies were lost, sections of the trail collapsed, and Aldren faced angry families who questioned why he had sent their sons into the mountains.

Several months later, as water finally began flowing into the kingdom, Aldren found Taren standing beside the northern gate.

“Tell me something,” the king said. “Were you frightened when that horse fell?”

“Very.”

“And when the storm came?”

“Even more.”

“Then why didn’t you turn back?”

Taren looked toward the mountains.

“We hadn’t found the river yet.”

Aldren stood quietly for a moment. “Do you think I was wrong to keep the gate closed all those years?”

Taren considered the question. “I don’t know, Your Majesty. We had water then.”

“And now?”

Taren glanced at the aqueduct running along the northern wall. “Now we have a river.”

Aldren watched the last of the workers return through the gate before turning to the guards.

“Leave the gate open.”

About the Author

Brian B. Turner is an entrepreneur, author, and creator of the DON’T FOLD series. His work explores discipline, resilience, faith, business, relationships, and the decisions people make when life gets volatile.

Brian is the author of Don’t Fold: Mental Discipline for Volatile Seasons.

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