Eyeofmaahes Stories

𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗗𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗗𝗢𝗘𝗦𝗡'𝗧 𝗦𝗖𝗔𝗥𝗘 𝗠𝗘. Even on a gently rocking boat, deep in the cave of Haxhi Ali, my hands remained steady. I hefted the lantern, which was glowing with a magic flame, higher. My mother sat in the boat behind me, papyrus posed and ready. I knew that if I turned around, I'd see her eyes lit up by my light. I'd see the almost complete hieroglyphs she'd prepared. I'd see a lot of things, as observant as I am. But I didn't turn around. My eyes never wavered, never looked away from the creeping shadows that puddled around rock formations and rippled on the surface of the water. There was something-some𝘰𝘯𝘦-out there. It was my job to fix that.