This cache is not located at the posted coordinates. It's also located outside, available 24/7.
On a rainy October afternoon, twelve-year-old Eli who came to visit his grandfather from abroad, sat cross-legged on the floor of his grandfather’s study, the scent of old paper and a fireplace burning filling the air. Thunder rolled outside as Grandfather Gjergj, wrapped in a thick wool sweater, pulled a leather-bound book from the highest shelf of the old oak bookcase.
“This,” he said, brushing dust from the cover, “is the story of the Iron Compass.”
Eli leaned in, his eyes wide. “Iron Compass?”
Grandfather Gjergj smiled. “A tale about a treasure hidden long ago, passed down only through our family.”
He opened the book to a yellowed page near the middle, revealing a hand-drawn map and a set of strange words beneath it.
“These are the final coordinates,” he said, tapping the cryptic script. “But they’re written in our mother language — a language that you have yet to learn.”
Veri: Pesëdhjetë gradë. Pesëdhjetë e shtatë pikë njëqind e tetë. Perëndim: Njëqind e katërmbëdhjetë gradë. Tre pikë gjashtëqind e shtatëdhjetë e shtatë.
Eli stared at the letters written on the page and asked: “Why me?”
“Because I wrote them,” Grandfather said with a wink. “And because I left the treasure for you.”
Eli looked up sharply. “You what?”
Grandfather Gjergj chuckled. “Not all stories are just stories, Eli. I’ve hidden something. Gold, yes — but also something more valuable. A secret only our bloodline can keep.”
The old man closed the book and handed it to Eli. “Learn the language. Start with the notes I left inside the cover. When you can read the final line, you’ll know where to go.”
That night, Eli slept with the book on his nightstand.
Years later, standing on a limestone covered hill deep in the Accursed Mountains, now fluent in this new language and heart pounding with purpose, Eli brushed dirt from an iron compass half-buried beneath a stone slab — exactly where the coordinates had led him.
And in that moment, he realized the real treasure wasn’t just the chest buried beneath his feet.
It was the story his grandfather had trusted him to finish.