As a desert dweller with no possibility to earn a place within the Akademiya, you had to adapt to the life of mercenaries in order to earn the mora you needed to make a living.
But when you caught wind of the grand treasure hidden inside the ruins o...
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CHAPTER THREE:
MAY YOU BE BRAVE
The moon shined in the dark, lighting up the small stars crowning her in gentle light. Purple flowers gleamed a soft shade, as the animals of the night quietened. Gentle, moon-pearl rays peered between the two tall open windows, illuminating the small room. The polished blades of your twin khopesh glinted under the silvery light.
You turned and turned, your back scratching uncomfortably on the woven palm leaves serving as your bed. Thoughts ran in circles in your head, mind struggling to comprehend how you had managed to travel to an age long forgotten by everyone, except for those who still sang about a reign of scarlet sands turning a glowing silver at night.
Your eyes drifted around the small, almost bare room the priests had given you. The man, who had brought you to the palace, was currently sleeping in the room next to yours.
You turned again, tilting your head towards the windows decorated with a delicate weave of dried leaves. A cool breeze drifted past your cheeks, slowly moving the curled leaves of the plant buried in a ceramic vase near the door.
A soft beep echoed in the small space.
You heard the sound of gears turning, the familiar cubical frame of your travelling companion entered your vision. The machine settled next to you, its blue veins' glow turning dimmer and dimmer until it became a dark black. You closed your eyes, mind drifting away as you joined the ruin-keeper in a dreamless slumber.
Sunrays harshly beat on your back as you trudged through the scorching sands, the tall male behind you, followed by two officers, whose heads were covered by a short white veil.
