Chapter One
Traios headed down the broad street, whistling absently,
weaving his way through the crowds of people and paying them no mind. Passing a
fruit stand, he flipped a copper coin in the merchant’s hand and grabbed a
piece of fruit, continuing on his way. Tall buildings of brown stone rose high
above his head, in the distance he could see the edges of the enormous church
that dominated the town and beside it, the somewhat less impressive houses of
government.
He turned down a side street, looking for a particular
house. Overhead, the sun was setting and the tall lights began to flicker on,
one by one.
He rapped at the door and a man answered, looking at him
warily.
“Yes? What do you want?”
“Greetings. I’m Traios and, ah, I was told to come here and
wait.” The man surveyed him skeptically – Traios was painfully aware that he
didn’t look like much: he was still young – barely twenty – with a mess of dark
hair and eyes, in somewhat frayed clothing worn from long travel.
“Wait here.”
The
man disappeared and the door shut again. Traios let out a long breath of
annoyance, prowling the narrow alleyway. Well. At least it was clean. A brown
and white cat eyed him, before prowling away up the street and out of sight.
The door swung open again and the man reemerged.
“You’re clear. Come on in.”
He entered into a wide room with a wooden floor and golden
lights placed at intervals alongside the walls. It was sparsely furnished,
paintings of landscapes hung on the walls. A woman floated in the middle of the
room, her eyes closed.
“Traios, of the Akuar,” she murmured. “I saw you knock at my
door twenty years ago. I know what it is you seek.”
“I…uh, I thought you would,” Traios said. “My father said
you were good at predicting the future.”
“Your father is a fine man and I was pleased to know him,”
the woman opened her eyes and gently lowered herself to the ground. “However,
what you seek is likely to get you slain.”
“I have to do it,” Traios replied.
“I knew you would say that too,” the woman said simply.
“Come.” She left the empty room behind, for another one. Like before, it was
spartanly furnished, with a severe looking desk, clear of clutter but for a
small bedraggled journal. She pressed it into his hands.
“This is what you’re looking for, I think,” she said. “I
went to great lengths to recover that in time for your visit, you know.”
“This is the journal of the last expedition?” Traios’s eyes
went wide. “How did you get this?”
“A tradeswoman never reveals her secrets,” the woman said,
sitting down. “So. Have a look through it, why don’t you?” Traios obeyed while
she watched, his heart beating faster and faster in his chest.
“June 17th.
We have found the remains of the old city. Not much to see here – lots of sand,
some old foundations. Nothing meaningful. We will keep looking, however. Jules
insists that the secret is here somewhere. So much for gods!”
“June 24th.
Digging has turned up an interesting temple – partly preserved. We’ve found
corpses buried inside – they were mummified, presumably from the heat.
Unpleasant business, this. We will continue to press on with the excavation.”
“June 26th.
Jules has uncovered a simply enormous door of gold and written in the language
of the people of the land – or, an older form thereof. The best we can decipher
is this the remains of the Great Temple and the gods dwelled here. Beyond these
doors are the entrance to their realm and under no circumstances should mortals
attempt to open it. Pah on that I say! I care not for silly superstitions.”
The journal ended there. Traios finished it, feeling odd.
The woman watched him, apparently wanting to see the expression on his face.
“Well?” she asked.
“I – I don’t know what to think,” he said. “Do you if I’ll
succeed or not?” she smiled at him gently.
“Yes. But I can’t tell you that,” she said. “If there’s one
thing I’ve learned is that people can’t get caught up in worrying about the
future. Then the future doesn’t happen. No, best if you don’t know your own
fate.”
“Okay, so do you know where I should start with planning on
this expedition?” the woman considered for a moment.
“You should consult Dr. Halucros, over in Hacel. He’s an
expert on the writings of the ancients and might be able to pull a team
together.”
“I don’t have any money, though,” Traios said. “Well – okay,
a little. But not enough to fund something on this scale.”
“That’s your problem, my dear,” the woman said. She had now
taken out a long pipe and begun to smoke it. Red, blue and green smoke puffed
out of the end. “I’ve done my part for you – largely for the great friendship I
share with your father, but all the same you should be grateful.”
“Oh, I am. You have no idea,” Traios said, rising. “Thank
you for all of your help.” He turned, ready to leave. The woman smiled thinly.
“One last thing,” she called. Traios turned, surprised.
“Good luck on your quest.”
