Ones.”
“Offering?
You mean this ore? Doesn’t look like much to me.”
He
nodded. “All the mines have a temple nearby with offerings to the Old Ones. It
is the old ways, but no one has ever dared disturb them. The priests had kept
this offering awaiting their return for generations. It is the same all over
our world and has been for as far back as I can remember. Someone destroyed the
temple and has stolen the chalcedonite. It is a sacrilege. I don’t believe any
of my people would do this. They are too superstitious.”
“There’s
a first time for everything. Could it be the same people up at the mine?”
Jasmine asked.
Dar
dropped the rock and looked at her. “Possibly. Many still revere the Old Ones.
Others fear them, though none alive today has ever beheld one. But that fear
and awe has kept the old ways intact. I cannot imagine one of my people coming
and taking a sacred offering to them.”
Jasmine
toed a timber and cringed when it fell over and caused fallen masonry to roll.
Dar shook his head then stiffened, looking at something on the floor once
hidden by rubble. He pushed timbers and stone away, revealing scratches in the
floor. At least, it just looked like scratches to her. “What is it?” she asked,
kneeling beside him. She couldn’t help but be intrigued—she’d always been an
archeological buff back home. Indy Jones had been her ideal hero when she was a
little girl. Ruins, mysteries, and artifacts were right up her alley. She’d
lived in fantasies and books when she got old enough to be tortured by her
fellow students for her complexion and hair. It was easy to pretend she
couldn’t hear when she was reading.
Dar
brushed the debris away, blowing bits of sand and limestone from the deep
incisions in the stone until he’d revealed a two foot section of the floor.
“It’s writing. A warning in the Old One’s language.”
The
suspense was killing her. Did he know he was making her want to bite her nails
off? “Can you read it? What’s it say?”
He
furrowed his brow, remaining silent a moment. “I believe it says ‘we come’.”
Chapter Five
“Jesus!
You give me the fucking creeps. Should I be scared? Should we even stay down at
the village or just high tail it through the woods like maniacs?”
Her
attempt at lightening the mood fell flat. Dar was in thought, walking out of
the desecrated church.
“Are you
sure you read that right? Maybe it was ‘we came’. Or so and so was here. Just a
joke by some asshole teenagers pissed off at the end of the world?” she said,
quickening her step to keep up with him. Ahead she could see the trees, thin as
rooftops, come into view. At least they didn’t have much farther to walk.
Though that meant they weren’t that far from the touchdown site either.
“That is
a possibility. Minute, but possible. Very minute,” he said. “I could be wrong
of course. It has been many years since I studied the ancient language.”
“Should
I be worried?”
“We
should all be worried if they return displeased. They created us. They could
take that life away. We are no mighty civilization. We stand on the brink of
destruction every day.” He sighed. “I should not share these fears with an
outlander. I was ordered to make you feel welcome and safe.”
Jasmine
snorted. “You’re doing a bang up job. Congrats.”
Dar shrugged.
“I cannot be perfect all the time.”
They’d
reached the first of the buildings on the cobbled street. Most of the buildings
here where white-washed stucco framed in heavy black timbers and crowded
together along one main road. Dar reached the first house and tried the knob.
It was locked. He put his shoulder down, jiggled the handle, and rammed it with
his body until the weakened door casing relented and allowed them inside. The
door slammed against the wall, the force of his entry sending dust flying into
the air. But there was no scent of mold and mildew—everything was dry and
remarkably modern looking.
“Offering?
You mean this ore? Doesn’t look like much to me.”
He
nodded. “All the mines have a temple nearby with offerings to the Old Ones. It
is the old ways, but no one has ever dared disturb them. The priests had kept
this offering awaiting their return for generations. It is the same all over
our world and has been for as far back as I can remember. Someone destroyed the
temple and has stolen the chalcedonite. It is a sacrilege. I don’t believe any
of my people would do this. They are too superstitious.”
“There’s
a first time for everything. Could it be the same people up at the mine?”
Jasmine asked.
Dar
dropped the rock and looked at her. “Possibly. Many still revere the Old Ones.
Others fear them, though none alive today has ever beheld one. But that fear
and awe has kept the old ways intact. I cannot imagine one of my people coming
and taking a sacred offering to them.”
Jasmine
toed a timber and cringed when it fell over and caused fallen masonry to roll.
Dar shook his head then stiffened, looking at something on the floor once
hidden by rubble. He pushed timbers and stone away, revealing scratches in the
floor. At least, it just looked like scratches to her. “What is it?” she asked,
kneeling beside him. She couldn’t help but be intrigued—she’d always been an
archeological buff back home. Indy Jones had been her ideal hero when she was a
little girl. Ruins, mysteries, and artifacts were right up her alley. She’d
lived in fantasies and books when she got old enough to be tortured by her
fellow students for her complexion and hair. It was easy to pretend she
couldn’t hear when she was reading.
Dar
brushed the debris away, blowing bits of sand and limestone from the deep
incisions in the stone until he’d revealed a two foot section of the floor.
“It’s writing. A warning in the Old One’s language.”
The
suspense was killing her. Did he know he was making her want to bite her nails
off? “Can you read it? What’s it say?”
He
furrowed his brow, remaining silent a moment. “I believe it says ‘we come’.”
Chapter Five
“Jesus!
You give me the fucking creeps. Should I be scared? Should we even stay down at
the village or just high tail it through the woods like maniacs?”
Her
attempt at lightening the mood fell flat. Dar was in thought, walking out of
the desecrated church.
“Are you
sure you read that right? Maybe it was ‘we came’. Or so and so was here. Just a
joke by some asshole teenagers pissed off at the end of the world?” she said,
quickening her step to keep up with him. Ahead she could see the trees, thin as
rooftops, come into view. At least they didn’t have much farther to walk.
Though that meant they weren’t that far from the touchdown site either.
“That is
a possibility. Minute, but possible. Very minute,” he said. “I could be wrong
of course. It has been many years since I studied the ancient language.”
“Should
I be worried?”
“We
should all be worried if they return displeased. They created us. They could
take that life away. We are no mighty civilization. We stand on the brink of
destruction every day.” He sighed. “I should not share these fears with an
outlander. I was ordered to make you feel welcome and safe.”
Jasmine
snorted. “You’re doing a bang up job. Congrats.”
Dar shrugged.
“I cannot be perfect all the time.”
They’d
reached the first of the buildings on the cobbled street. Most of the buildings
here where white-washed stucco framed in heavy black timbers and crowded
together along one main road. Dar reached the first house and tried the knob.
It was locked. He put his shoulder down, jiggled the handle, and rammed it with
his body until the weakened door casing relented and allowed them inside. The
door slammed against the wall, the force of his entry sending dust flying into
the air. But there was no scent of mold and mildew—everything was dry and
remarkably modern looking.
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