Hope for the Best, Prepare for the Worst

We set out into the desert in the middle of the night; I made sure to bring my sword and assorted smaller items with me and Ipas made sure to bring her seer stones. Our destination, the Dorns, dominated the environment just beyond the outskirts of the village to the north. As long as no work was being done at either the salt mines or the moisture farms, we had no issue at all getting to the Cave of Arai-Kansee.

The journey thus far proved quite smooth, almost too much so. The Dorns were a long yet narrow band of hills, peaks, and cliffs, and any number of hazards could have lurked nearby. The fact that none crossed our paths up to this point made me cautious. After all, one misstep could have gotten one or both of us killed.

As we ventured further into the hills, I caught an unmistakable sound in the distance, a low growling sound indicative of the presence of wiamiu, giant armored cats. Where the wiamiu traveled, people moved not far behind them. Whether friend or foe, I preferred not to find out. Other barely audible sounds accompanied their presence: the quiet tap-tap of human feet, the rustling of long-dead bushes, the sound someone makes when they pick up a long metallic object. They had moved into an ambush pattern. Ipas had also heard the sounds.

“What was that?!” Ipas asked.

“Bandits,” was my immediate answer, whispering in a move to hush the Lyko, “or worse. Keep quiet, and keep moving.”

“Bandits?!” she continued to shout despite my attempts to stop her.

“Treasure hunters, robbers, thieves, kidnappers, take your pick,” I explained to her. Surely, they had bandits in the Islands Beyond the Shore for her to not ask such questions. We had to hurry, fast but yet soft, so as to not draw the attention of whoever was nearby. At the risk of getting spotted, I located a ridge to climb on in order to spy on any nearby camps. Sure enough, someone had tied up a pack of wiamiw near the base of the hills. That meant…

A rush of wind came down on top of me. Some kind of object was either falling or being thrown down. Rolling out of the way, I barely managed to avoid getting stabbed in the back by a sickle, which my attacker had attached to a long pole, much like a spear. The attacker’s face revealed a man who possessed neither soul nor conscience, only raw primal rage. His eyes only proved this even further, revealing nothing but fiery anger and hatred. And a very youthful face… How could someone so young have so much hate within them? He grasped his weapon as if the mere act of letting go would be the death of him. This man had one rule governing him: to survive at any cost.

Trying to land a single hit proved insufficient for him, for he swung his blade several more times. Only my quick reactions prevented him from making his mark. Desperate to get some distance between us, I gave the man a good kick in the knees. While that probably hurt me as much as it hurt him, the impact knocked him back just far enough for me to stumble myself up and unsheath my sword. Even with the weight, even with the lack of practice, I knew I had the superior weapon by far. But also, I had to admit underestimating my foe would have been unwise.

“I'm giving you one chance to give up,” I told the man.

His sole response was to hiss at me, baring what little remained of his teeth. The man intended to fight to his last breath. I was many years out of practice and the sword felt much heavier in my hands than I remembered, but I reckoned I could defeat him with little issue. All I had to do was disarm him.

The man took yet another swing of his sickle, charging towards me as he did so. I answered by ducking down and swinging my own blade. Although it felt more like letting my knees buckle under my own weight and letting the sword flow with the momentum. My attack connected, severing his pole in two. Unfortunately for him, he could not stop running in time. The man slipped on some rocks right at the edge, and tumbled forward, rolling very roughly down the face of the hill, and hitting every sharp rock possible on the way down. He had no chance.

Ipas approached me from behind to observe the scene. I looked out beyond the hills to see the village, the place I called home for the past fifteen years. Dead or alive, the man below me was of no concern. The less I thought of what just happened, the better.

“Are you hurt?” Ipas asked me.

“I'll be alright,” was my answer, colder than the bronze sword I carried with me. “It is so. The Watcher cannot judge what he cannot see.”

“Is it so?”

“It is so.”

I could not expect her, or anyone for that matter, to understand. It was the first time I had used my sword in many years. And how I already wished to forget! Without saying a word, I hid the blade away. No more thinking about the damned thing for now.

“Are we close to the Cave of Arai-Kansee?” I asked Ipas.

“I believe so,” was her answer. “About three hundred paces up this hill.”

•

The rest of our journey to the cave proved uneventful. Even the interior of the cave appeared lifeless as we began to explore.

“So where are all these creatures of the night you said the stones showed you?” I whispered to Ipas.

“They could be sleeping,” she whispered back. “We had traveled quite a distance to get here. Just so long as we keep quiet, we should be able to get the necklace and get out.”

As she said, all we had to do was keep quiet as we traversed through mounds of various jewels and precious metals in search of our target. Exactly as Ipas had stated, the necklace sat peacefully on top of a small pillar, as if someone had placed it there on purpose.

Too easy.

Too quiet.

I hesitated to reach for the necklace. Still too quiet. The whole place seemed unusually bright for there only being starlight outside. I inched myself closer to the pillar, not sure if the next step would lead to a trap. Ipas stayed silent as well. So far, so good.

The pillar itself was even shorter than me, providing a nice look down upon the necklace. Even up close, nothing gave away any indication that it had any special properties. It just appeared to be a regular royal necklace, a wide metal plate bent to fit around the neckline of a king perhaps, studded with rubies and agates and emeralds. It was pretty, but nothing more.

“I should have known you'd go for the treasure instead of me.”

That was not Ipas… No. Too old. Too familiar…

I turned to see Hilami staring right at me.