The earth hides more than it will ever reveal. It devours and gnaws creation and destruction alike. It will always be there to absorb into its belly everything that people abandon and forget. There are places that belong under its crust, buried and invisible, never to see the sun again, because some creations can resist even time.
The ancient forest of Ghall, or Sum' Targhachi as the natives called it, was said to have been the home of many tribes and cities. After centuries had passed, only the legends remained, terrifying and beautiful in equal measure. Most told of great treasures, halls full of gold and jewels, guarded by beasts from before there was such a thing as time.
But the story that captivated people more than any other was that of the Green Temple. Only those willing to risk their lives could even come close to finding it, and if by some miracle they did, it was said its gates would open and reveal a treasure worthy of the gods.
"I found it!" exclaimed Darian, standing under a tall black monolith covered with moss and vines and leaning to one side. The rock it was made of had hardly any imperfections as if it had been cut with a laser and placed there to mock historians. Near its centre, a barely visible inscription reflected light with a silver glow. "It is here!"
The others circled the stone, eyes fixed on the six lines of strange text. The letters were small, tightly packed, and written with great care and precision.
"Is this the old Ellarian?" Talmar asked, dropping his chisel on the floor in sheer delight. "That must be it, look at the little hooks on the symbols." He ran his trembling fingers over the inscription and quickly withdrew them as if a wasp had stung him. "It prickled me. What's the matter with it?"
"Static electricity. It happened to me, too," Darian replied, stepping aside to look at it from a distance. "I promise it's not cursed."
Their voices echoed in the once grand hall, now a broken monument in danger of collapsing. Tree roots hung through the ceiling, clinging to the walls and the few columns that remained. There was a time when a place like that attracted people from all over the realm to bow down before the gods. The power it held was only palely reflected in the black stone.
"What does it say?" Gala asked, slamming a mosquito on the back of her neck. "If it's what we have been looking for all year, it better be good."
"It’s a chant I think. An incantation, perhaps. A riddle, maybe," returned Darian, squinting his eyes from afar. "It’s not Ellarian thought, because this is," he stepped forward again, grabbed a lantern from the ground and rose it above the inscription. "Something much more interesting."
"Do you need a drum roll?" Levian asked from behind. He had never been patient enough to listen to the stories and theories, languages and dead things. He liked the simple stuff, like stepping on bugs that happened to invade the stone hall in droves. He took out his knife and began to slam it against his belt buckle. "There you go D. now you have one."
"The language of the gods," Dorian said aloud, and the vine-infested hall echoed back. "The Ovrilath," he whispered.
"Seriously?" Gala exclaimed, "I mean, I am no expert, but even I know that's a little crazy."
"I believe it is true. In theory, it's similar in many ways to Ellarian writing, because the language they heard did not have a letter system, so they invented one based on their own."
"So that's it then?" Levian inquired. "This is what we have been looking for all this time? A verse in a dead language. I almost got bitten by a viper, shit on by rabid monkeys, and eaten by a tiger today, all because of a verse?" He laughed and sat down on a piece of rock nearby. "A little gold would have been nice. A handful of diamonds, maybe. But all we have found so far is moss, bugs, and bats. Can you at least tell us what it means so we can go home before we catch a jungle rash?"
"I..." Darian froze for a moment. "The meaning?" he whispered, "I am not sure, but-"
"Come on, give us something. This is your territory," Talmar replied, somewhat disappointed in his companion. An end to the mystery was all they wanted, but only one could provide it, and the hesitation only made them more uneasy.
"Please stop interrupting me," Dorian continued, "this is not a language you hear every day, and there are so many ways to interpret it. Besides, did I mention it's probably a riddle?"
The faces of his companions now wavered between extreme curiosity, anticipation, and frustration. He saw it clearly and still felt like torturing them further. It was a rare opportunity to show how much he knew, and he gladly took it.
Finally, he scribbled something in his notebook, tucked the pencil behind his ear, and cleared his throat.
"Where the dark sun warms the earth,
and the serpent devours the roots
of a tower built of greed,
The king sits alone
Watching over those that seek
To surrender to fire and burn the world."
"Roughly translated," he added.
"Why does it not rhyme?" Levian said gloomily, sinking into deep disappointment.
"It rhymes in Ellarian," Darian replied sourly, "Shame that escaped you."
Levian jumped up and towered over Darian almost like a monolith, but a hand pulled him away and returned him to his seat.
"Concentrate, people! We have already come this far," Gala shouted. "Think." She poked Levian in the head. "Does this make any sense to you?"
Silence overcame them. They shook their heads and scratched their noses, and Darian turned his back on them and focused on the stones. "The dark sun," he murmured.
"What if the sun is a symbol? Like on a banner or something?" Thalmar announced, shaking a small red beetle off his sleeve.
"That would be a start," Gala replied. "Wasn’t there a sun, like a black sun, on the banner of Mirtano Kam? I can’t tell if dark was synonymous with black for them. It could mean something literal, like an eclipsed sun, or it could mean something completely metaphorical, like a bad omen. Also, this tribe lived in the grasslands, which were considered barbaric by the Udriann, so I doubt they had anything to do with the temple and the king."
"There has to be something. What about the tower?" Talmar asked, choosing another monolith to lean against.
No sooner had he done so than a soft cracking sound came from the root. It began to move away from Thalmar inch by inch, and he quickly broke away before the black stone toppled over, shattering into pieces and spewing a cloud of fine dust that enveloped them all.
"For heaven's sake... Is everyone all right?" Darian shouted.
"Ha! Finally! Treasure!" Levian cheered. The broken stone revealed dozens of tiny metal cubes once hidden inside. He pounced on them with open arms. "Incredible!"
The others were still startled, coughing up dust through which they caught a glimpse of the shiny pieces around them. When the cloud cleared, they saw that the cubes were not just falling randomly, but formed a wide field around them through magnetism.
"Talmar, you clumsy genius," said Levian, who was standing in the middle of the circle, fluttering through the debris, picking out the cubes, each of which seemed to be slightly different from the last. "Look at all this."
"Oh dear," Darian sighed. He had not expected to find more than the words on a stone, and yet the ground glowed with something much more valuable. "This is beautiful" He picked up one of the chunks, perfectly geometric, if a little uneven in proportion. On one side was engraved a symbol, and it was, he noted, in the same language as the riddle on the monolith.
"We are rich," Levian took another piece from the rubble, "this must be worth a million, two solid... This metal is so light, it’s like nothing I have ever seen."
"It's probably much more than that, and we can not take it with us, remember the deal, L. This could be so much more, we just have to keep going."
"Come on, it's not like it's going to be gathering dust in some museum and being stared at all day by clueless people. Imagine what you could do with it."
"It will not do much good if it's in some rich old man's house, either. You are letting your greed blind you."
"Be quiet, both of you," Gala interrupted the two just before the situation escalated. She had heard something, and it scared her. Fear was something common, something healthy that one often encounters in forgotten places, but she had gotten used to it, befriended it, and it had saved her life on many occasions. This time was different.
"Did none of you hear that? " She pointed to the tunnel behind her with wide-opened eyes, but it seemed she was the only one. She tried to block it out for a good minute, but it came back, again and again, each time louder than before.
"Pack it up," she yelled at the others, "we have to go. Now! "Someone is here," she shouted and rushed to the rubble, stuffing stone and metal into her pockets. After a moment's hesitation, the others joined in, and though confused, they trusted her instincts. Whether she was right or not, there was no reason to take the risk, and so they ran down the narrow paths of the old temple, hoping that the afternoon sun would bring them some safety. But when they stormed out onto the sand, they saw no sun. It was a cold night in the desert.
"What is going on here?" Thalmar said in a rough voice, still coughing the dust between words. "What is this?"
"This is... impossible," Dorian took several glances at his watch and at the sky, turning around until he felt dizzy and sat down on a rock. They were lost.
"Can anyone tell me how, in the name of all that is holy, a desert can arise in the midst of a jungle?" Levian was not amused with the sudden change of scenery. He dropped the bag full of treasure in the sand and took a few steps around the temple door, seeing nothing but rubble and dunes in the moonlight. "And how can it be night already?", he shouted into the empty horizon.
Gala was almost paralyzed. Her legs were shaking, her fingers were numb, and her eyes were watering. When she finally found her words, she told them that she had heard someone calling, saying things to her, and on any other occasion they would not have believed her, but with the moon rising too early, her words were the least unusual thing.
They pondered for a while whether to go back or go on.
"I am not going back, no way", Gala said. "I say we keep moving forward, and if we do not find anything by morning, we'll come back. Only then."
"This place could be anywhere. It could be infinite," Thalmar cut in. "But I am not too keen on hearing about ghosts anytime soon. We should do what Gala says."
Dorian was deeply concerned with orientation, eyes fixed on the stars. He whispered to himself and wrote in his journal until he ran out of ink. Others called out to him, he ignored them. He walked in small circles around a red boulder sticking out of the ground until he stopped abruptly. "We are going that way," he called to them from a distance, pointing to two stars, one slightly brighter than the other. He smiled like a child figuring out how to build a fire. "The treasure of the Green Temple," he lowered his voice as they approached, "is not what I thought it was."
"What was it then? The door to a magical land?" Levian said sarcastically.
"Yes to the door, no to the magic," Dorian's eyes lit up, completely free of the fear that had drowned him only moments ago. "But I am beginning to realize there must be more to it than that."
"I was joking," Levian replied.
"What is this all about?" Thalmar said in deep confusion. "Does this mean there is a way back, like a travelling network of haunted temples? What in the seven hells are we doing here?"
"I wouldn't say it’s impossible. Now, the stars point north, and If I am not wrong to assume where we are, we should find a town by morning."
This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.
"And where do you think we are?" Gala asked. "Is this the Ria desert? The Hurial?"
"No, the sand is darker there, even in Harial," Levian replied with a wide smile on his face, "I bet that's Mistia."
Darian nodded. "Exactly, and luckily for us, much smaller than the others."
"Well, I’ll take those chances," Gala said. "But let’s get going before something here eats us alive."
"This is a dessert, there's hardly anything bigger than a scorpion," Thalmar concluded.
"Not if you’ve heard the tales. Mistia is indeed home to eight different breeds of sand serpents," Levian said proudly.
"That's a myth," Thalmar squinted his eyes back at Levian.
"Just like the temple we just left."
They walked faster, softer on the sand, toward the twin stars.
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Exhaustion caught up with them halfway. The desert night had its own level of dangerous beauty in places like Mistia. The moon had given them enough light to see the sand move from east to west, reshaping the landscape in slow, powerful movements. They fought the wind and the cold, and despite the discomfort, held their heads high to the sky, which looked as if it had been painted on with great marvel.
When they saw the high walls rising from the sand, it was already dawn.
"Where are we, anyway?" said Gala, sipping the last drop of water she had.
"Afara," Darian said." The great city of the Malannids. It is the oldest of the five cities that go in a straight line from here to the sea."
"Is there an airport in this great city? Or maybe a hotel?" Levian asked, shaking the sand from his boots, which seemed to keep flowing no matter how much he shook them. "Never mind, I already know the answer. We are doomed."
The sand dispersed into a solid path, and further on turned into a road of stones that diverged to both east and west. The gates of the city stood wide open, decorated with writings and pictures, in many languages and colors.
"Doesn’t this place seem a little strange to you?" Thalmar inquired, eyeing a group of locals leading their camels out through the gates, who in turn looked back at him with strange curiosity. "It feels like we’re stepping into the past. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve been dying to see something so well preserved, but still, something is a bit off."
"It’s old. Just look at it. Places like this like to maintain tradition," Gala replied. "As long as there are walls, nothing really changes inside."
Darian was already well ahead and quickened his steps the closer he got to the entrance, looking at every detail that presented itself along the way. He stopped at the gate wing and touched it with great caution, moving from left to right, unable to take in its beauty from the limited perspective a human possessed.
"I bet he'd lick it if he could," Levian said, nudging Thalmar with his elbow, but he misjudged his strength and his companion's tolerance for pain and had to help him up again. "I am sorry," he said. "I got carried away."
"Then carry yourself away from my ribs next time," Thalmar replied, catching his breath.
"The city has four gates," said Darian, pointing to the great arch above their heads. "Each gate is dedicated to a different god. This one goes to the sun goddess Alua, and that’s why it’s painted yellow. The northern one is dedicated to the moon god Sanur, the eastern one to the star daughter Hata, and the western one to her brother Omani. And if you are wondering what that has to do with finding food and shelter, well, nothing."
"Charming," Levian muttered.
"But that does," Darian pointed to a small sign written on wood and tacked to a piece of wall that stretched behind the gate. It said, "Allun's Tavern and Lodging", in more than a dozen languages, all slightly archaic.
Allun's Tavern proved to be a decent enough place with musicians and brightly colored decorum, all of which smelled of spices they had no idea even existed.
They sat down at a table in the corner, sensing that the smoke-filled room was showing a growing interest in newcomers like them, though they were not yet sure if it was simple curiosity or something much more difficult to handle.
"Alright, I think it's time we had a little talk about how we are going to get out of here," Levian said after pushing away an empty plate. "The river sounds good, but I do not know anything about this place, to say the least. If it's like you say, it could take us days to get to the sea."
"To be honest," Gala said, "I have never heard of Afara. If I remember correctly, there were no cities south of Goa. There were four, not five in a straight line to the sea, as Darian said. Four cities aligned with the four stars. Or am I mistaken?"
There was silence at the table for a few seconds. Everyone looked at Darian, who in turn tapped the table with a wooden spoon. "This is Afara. I am sure of it," he returned in a low tone. "But Gala is also right. The fifth city was said to have disappeared under the sand a long time ago. It doesn’t exist on the maps, and there are not too many records of it. But it did exist. I recognized it immediately."
"And what are the chances that we are wrong, that this is actually Goa and we have not suddenly ended up in a ghost town?" Levian asked, cautiously observing the faces around them. One caught his eye. A black-eyed woman on the balcony above. She was looking directly at them, neither moving or making a sound.
"Afara or not, we have to keep moving," Thalmar said nervously shaking his head and pointing to the opposite corner where a small group of hooded people sat smoking long pipes. Their faces had no formed expression but betrayed enough hostility to unnerve almost anyone.
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They slept in the tavern's modest quarters until nightfall, and as soon as they regained their strength, they moved on through the streets of the old city. Had they been able to look at it from above, they would have seen a maze of tightly woven stone paths and small bridges, all converging in the center.
"A tower," said Thalmar, as the tall structure appeared before their eyes, at what seemed to be the very center of the city. The torches that illuminated its sides showed the shape of a snake twisting its body around the tower, with its tail at the very top.
"And the serpent devours the roots of a tower built out of greed," Gala said softly. "Are you seeing what I’m seeing?"
"That can not be," Thalmar said, cleaning his glasses. "What are the odds?"
"We’ve come this far," Darian replied. "We might as well see it with our own eyes."
"Has everyone suddenly forgotten the part about the king and the burning of the world?" Levian added, walking hesitantly behind them.
No one answered as they approached the gilded door to the tower. They could now, witness the true magnificence of the structure, every piece of which had taken an immense amount of precision and dedication, to the point where it was almost a living thing.
"Tower of Greed," Levian whispered as they began to climb.
Despite exhaustion and the looming sense of terror, they conquered every turn of the seemingly endless collection of stairs. The chamber at the top was getting closer with each step.
"We are almost there," said Darian, who barely had the strength to hold himself upright. "Just a few more steps."
They followed him, holding on to the stone railing so as not to stumble.
Another golden door appeared at the end, though somewhat smaller than the one on the ground. Breathing heavily and bending down, they pushed it open.
From there they could see the whole city, the dark streets and canals that stretched from the temple to the walls, and then dig a line in the sand as if it were a dark sun.
"Help me!", were the first words they heard in a dark room. The words sounded almost like ashes, spoken by something that no longer had the right to call itself alive.
They looked around, walked in a circle, and saw nothing but empty space. Levian reached for his flashlight, but Gala took it from him, afraid that they would be seen by the whole city.
"Help me," the voice said again, louder than before. "Release me."
"Who are you?" Darian asked, desperate to replace fear with curiosity.
"Let us see you," said Thalmar, with great uncertainty in his voice.
"Something is happening here," Levian dropped the bag of metal cubes on the ground, and they moved, forming a circle in the center, just like in the temple. When each one was in place, a shadow became visible on the small platform inside. The shadow then regained a solid form, that of an old man on a golden throne and a golden crown.
"The king!" Levinan shouted, pointing at the apparition. "This is getting out of control."
The king raised his head and looked at them. "It has been too long," He said in a deep voice, much stronger than before. "I welcome you."
Darian backed away, not knowing what to do. He had not believed that such things were possible, nor could he understand why it was all happening. For the first time in his life, his knowledge was useless.
"Who are you?" Gala said, clutching her familiar knife in her hand. "What are you doing in a tower?"
"I am not a king. I am not a prisoner. And yet I need salvation."
"The king sits alone, watching over those that seek to surrender to fire and burn the world," Darion finally said, "Does that mean anything to you?"
The king's head bowed again, and his eyes wandered aimlessly around the room once more. "If I do not watch over everything, they will come out of the sand and devour everything they see."
"And who’s that?"
"Beasts. Terrible things. Their reign will come again. That is why I must keep watch."
"You asked for help. You asked to be set free. What will happen if you go?"
"I am tired. So tired," the king replied.
"You do not believe in that nonsense, do you?" Levian squeaked. "It's an old man they are probably keeping locked up here to maintain some crazy idea of protection. We can not just leave him here, right?"
"Levian is right," Gala said. "There's something wrong with this place. But I think, his voice, I think it’s the one I heard in the temple. He warned me about this. I saw something back there," she came closer to the throne, trying to get a better look of the king’s eyes. She had to make sure it was real.
"No, no, I’ll have none of this," Levian said and pushed them all aside. "The old fella is going down with us."
"What if," Darian said quietly as if trying to set all reason aside and accept some different version of the world.
"I’ll have none of your crazy theories either," Levian continued as he picked up the frail old man and put him over his shoulder. The golden crown he placed in Darian’s hands and headed for the door.
"The sooner we are out of here the better," Gala said picking up one of the cubes. "Damn it all."
Darion followed them silently, but with each step, he fought the thought of the consequences their actions would bring if only the story were true. He could not fight his own mind, logic against the sheer possibility. "What if?" he whispered again.
When they reached the door below, they placed the old man on the stones outside. He smiled, suddenly overwhelmed with seeing the city from below. To him, it must have felt like a whole new world. But, it was only seconds before he turned to dust and was carried away by the wind like he never existed.
People gathered around them, watching their every move intently, and then turned toward the tower. There, at the very top, a light shone with such power that the night became a day for a brief moment. People fell to their knees and said prayer after prayer.
"Where is Darion?" Thalmar asked when he realized that not everyone had made it down the stairs.
"No, he did not," cried Gala, knowing full well what could have happened.
A woman with black eyes took her hand as she tried to walk back through the golden door. "One must always watch over the world. And when their time comes, another appears to become the king in the tower. That's the way it's always been."
"Not if I have any say in the matter," Levian shouted, pushing against the door. But no matter how hard he tried, it did not move. He paused only when he felt the sand blowing in his face and the ground beneath him grow softer.
Piece by piece, everything around them lost its composure and melted with the desert as if it was only there for a moment in time. The only thing left was the three of them and the sand they stood on.
"It's all gone," Thalmar said and dropped to his knees. "Darian is gone. What have we done?"
"I do not know," Gala returned, pretending that she was not afraid. "The best thing we can do right now is to find the nearest city." She pointed to a glimmering dot on the northern horizon.
"Goa?" asked Levion, trying to pick Thalmar up off the ground.
"Better be," Gala replied.