Gateway 5 -- Kesrin -- The Sapphire Well
It was still early morning when he reached the Sapphire Well. Dry, as usual, in the summer heat. Deserted, too, also as usual, which was why he'd chosen it. The ring stood there, mysterious, unknown, made of some substance beyond the knowledge of man or mage. Untouched by time, unchanged in his lifetime, and Sanzar was in his seventh decade. The stuff of myth and legend in Prince Alnar's realm, impervious to anything man-made.
He eased himself from the saddle, wincing, for he did little riding now, and hitched the gelding to the ring beside the empty bowl. He unslung the water-skin from behind the saddle and poured some into the bowl for the horse to drink, patting its neck as it bent to the water.
Sanzar reached into the saddle-bag and took out the artefact, then made his way towards the ring. He looked down at the object in his hand, then at the ring, at the small offset panel at about a man's chest height. The object was the same size and shape as the depression in the panel. He fought the rising excitement and the conviction that, at last, he'd found the key. He forced himself to step away and consider. The ring was as it always had been. A ring. Big enough for three men to ride through abreast, slender enough for a man - a boy, even - to step through without touching it. Many had, usually in the wet season when the Sapphire Well held water instead of sand. Now, in the dry heat of summer, no-one came. Which was, of course, why he'd chosen to come now. If he made a fool of himself, he preferred to do it without witnesses.