Lucian brushed the last of the sand from the canister, revealing the inscription in all its clarity. It wasn't just an inscription though, but a detailed etching depicting a magnificent pyramid, seemingly floating amidst a swirling vortex of sand. The lines pulsed with a faint luminescence, as if imbued with some kind of dormant magic.
A collective gasp escaped their lips. This was more than they could have ever hoped for. Not only had they survived the sandworm's fury, but they now clutched a potential key to unlocking the secrets of the Sunken Temple.
"What do you think it is?" Rory rumbled, his voice still shaky.
Lucian traced the intricate lines of the pyramid with a calloused finger. "It could be a map," he mused.
Kainith knelt beside him, his gaze sharp. "Or it could be a warning," he countered, his voice low. "A final test before we reach the temple itself."
Rance, who had been unusually quiet throughout the sandworm encounter, finally spoke up, a glint in his eye. "Or," he said with a sly grin, "it could be a treasure map, leading to riches beyond our wildest dreams!"
Kainith chuckled, a dry sound in the vast emptiness. "Perhaps a bit of all three, my friend. But for now, we need to decide what to do next."
He surveyed the landscape. The monstrous sandworm laid dead, leaving pools of a thick green slimy blood. The distant mountains, their rugged peaks now bathed in the golden hues of the setting sun, beckoned them forward.
"We could rest here for the night," Lucian suggested, his voice firm. "Regroup, assess our supplies, and then decide how to proceed."
The others murmured in agreement. The ordeal with the sandworm had taken its toll, both physically and mentally. But as they settled down for a tense but hopeful night under the desert stars, the strange canister pulsed with a faint bluish glow.
Nightfall painted the desert canvas in shades of inky black and bruised purple. A welcome chill settled over the sand as they huddled around a crackling fire, its meager flames casting flickering shadows on their weary faces. The metallic canister, the prize from their harrowing encounter, sat prominently on a nearby rock, bathed in the firelight's glow.
Rory was the first to break the silence. "Well, that was a right fine welcome to the Desolation, wouldn't you say?" he rumbled, poking the fire with a stick, sending a shower of sparks dancing upwards.
Lucian chuckled, a dry rasp escaping his lips. "A baptism by sandworm, indeed. But we came out the other side, didn't we?"
Kainith, his cloak draped around his shoulders like a shroud, nodded curtly. The desert wind strummed a mournful melody on the strings of his lute, left unattended by his side.
Rance eyed the canister with a glint in his eye. "Speaking of coming out the other side," he said, his voice dripping with mock innocence, "did anyone catch what that blasted worm coughed up? Looked like a rather fancy metal... whatsit."
Lucian raised an eyebrow. "Perhaps a reward for our troubles," he said, a hint of amusement in his voice.
The fire crackled, and for a moment, the only sound was the wind whispering secrets through the dunes. Then, Kainith spoke, his voice surprisingly gentle.
"There are stories," he began, his gaze fixed on the dancing flames, "tales whispered by bards all over Archanella. They speak of guardians, monstrous creatures sworn to protect the secrets buried beneath the sands." Kainith looked at the group lips now curling into a smile. "I of course thought that was all a lie until about 2 hours ago."
A shiver ran down Rory's spine. "Guardians, huh? Sounds like we just met one of those lovelies."
A comfortable silence settled once more, broken only by the occasional crackle of the fire. Then, Rance spoke, a sly grin playing on his lips.
YOU ARE READING
On A Knife Edge
FantasiaLucian is a small Demon born with big aspirations of becoming a thief. That is until the one job they didn't want to do ended in a way they could have never imagined. Join Lucian in his journey across the magical land of Archanella. He will meet fr...
