Past the Edge (An Item for Greed Book 1)

chapter 21- Destination

Chapter 21- Destination

After seven days, and six nights, Castor and Sam finally caught sight of a city that was not a mirage. They had finally reached Reliculim. Well, in truth, it wasn't even a city, just a very large, very old town. When Sam and Castor grew nearer to the city, they noticed a few things in particular. Surrounding the city was a broken, mangled and rotting barbed wire fence. It seemed odd, residing here, compared to all of the newer, stone walls that surrounded most of the cities.

Another thing they noticed was that there were a few small farms that littered the country side leading up to the city, this was unusual since you hardly ever see any farms, regardless of where you are- especially not in the middle of the Cyan Desert.

When they reached a gap in the fence that they supposed was the gate, all of the people in the square scampered off to find shelter in fright of the newcomers. Puzzled, Sam dismounted his horse, and walked up to the door of a building that he had last seen a person enter. Knocking sharply on the wood of the rotting door frame, he waited. And waited. But no one answered. Shrugging his shoulders Sam turned back around, and walked over to where Castor now stood on the ground, holding the veins of both of their horses.

Castor walked to a near-by lamp post, and tied the reins of their horses to it. Turning back to Sam, he said, “Real friendly folk that they have ‘round here eh?” Castor commented with a smile.

“Ya, real friendly. Why do you thin’ that they are so afraid of us?” Sam replied with a question of his own.

“Not too sure. It could be simply because they don't get very many visitors, considering how far North that they are,” Castor speculated.

“Good point,” Sam told Castor nonchalantly.

Taking a few steps to the left, Castor sat down on a bench, took a deep breath, and looked around. The small square that they sat in was probably once very beautiful. It was lined with short, one-story building that were made of rough masonry, which gave a sort of rustic, old world type of look. The roofing on each of them was thatch, and looked to be as if it were made by hand. Dotted all around the square were sanguine, bluebell like groups of flowers. They stood out vibrantly against the cold, washed out colours of the square. With the bright splashes of colour, primarily from in the flowers, the small, shabby square looked almost welcoming.

Sighing contently, Castor ran his hand through his dark hair, and rose to his feet. He walked over to one of the barricaded doors, and said, “Well, here goes nothing,” just before he kicked the door in.