The skies had slowly turned brownish-red as Talia Rakbarh began the arduous descent down the longest stairs she'd ever seen.
From the outside, it was a mausoleum buried underneath the crescentic dunes of the Gobi desert. Yet the map that led her there was a rare artifact she found five years ago at an archaeological site. It was made of human skin.
The symbols on it were invisible until the day she accidentally cut her palm and her blood touched the surface. The words ”Take the treasure, wake the owner” appeared in Aramaic.
That was when her troubles began.
Her excavation crew went haywire, determined to kill her and take the map. She was forced to flee into the desert where she wandered for months and somehow survived.
Then she found the mausoleum. The moment she stepped close to it, a symbol at the centre of the map began to glow.
For weeks, she searched through its endless chambers and forgotten crypts until she found a huge, gold-plated chest beneath the earth. Inside were big, ancient and dried bones that didn't look human.
For a month, she hid in the mansoleum putting together the bones. Once the last piece of the skull clicked in, there was a shuddering and groaning from beneath the world. She collapsed, trembling violently as the chamber shook her.
The bones belonged to an extinct species of dragons.
The stone floor split open, revealing a long flight of stairs that descended into an abyss so deep that she couldn't see the end of it.
Talia took deep breaths, slipped on her weathered pack and cut her wrist. Dark blood welled and she sipped at it. It was how she'd survived over the years. Then she began the descent.
The skies rumbled, the blue changing into golden brown and fading into a deep red.
For seven days, she remained in the depths of the earth. When she finally emerged, Talia was different. Her brown hair had turned silver-white and her hazel eyes glowed like starlight. There was a mocking smile etched on her face, as though she had learned secrets too vast for mortal minds.
Soldiers led by her crew were waiting outside the mausoleum for her. They drew their sword immediately when they saw her.
The mage leading them stepped forward, his eyes were black as ink from corner to corner. He was powerful and at the peak of his strength. “What's in that chest?” he demanded, pointing to the iron-bound coffer she carried.
She glanced at it and laughed, her voice dry and broken like old parchment tearing. “The dragon's treasure,” she whispered mockingly.
“Relinquish it now,” the mage said.
Instead, she lifted the lid and the soldiers gasped, their eyes wide in confusion. It was empty.
“Is this a joke?” The mage shouted, muscles ticking along his jaw and neck.
Then the ground began to tremble, splitting into tiny cracks all over as whirling columns of dust rose into the sky. The men stumbled and sought to shield their eyes when a deafening roar of the dragon shattered the air.
The mage was already crossing his hands and fingers together, murmuring a spell when blue fire overshadowed him and his men.
Talia Rakbarh did not flinch. She alone knew of the existence of the dragon and the treasure.
I hope you enjoyed reading this short piece. It's inspired by the Freewrite #dailyprompt phrase "What's in that chest?".
Thank you for visiting my blog.
Image credit from Pixabay: Josch13
