Aspects of Sand (Camp NaNo)

Chapter 6, Scene 3

It's dark. Am I dead?

My head hurts, but everything else feels fine. I've landed on a large, flat stone. I'm underground.

I've never made a habit of going in caves, but sheep wander wherever they want. They're stupid animals, but they don't know what it's like to be afraid.

Caves don't have flat surfaces.

This has to be something a person carved.

I wish I had a light.

And just like that, one appears.

I stand, letting my eyes adjust. The orb hovers in front of me.

"What are you?"

It doesn't respond. I hear flowing water from deeper in the cave.

I follow the sound. One-by-one I cross the large slabs, until stairs lead me up into a large chamber.

I can see paint on the walls. It's ancient, faded, but I recognize the symbols.

This is a tomb.

But for whom?

MAY AKKUN BLESS–

Streaks of mildew and niter wear away the inscription.

I pull my coat close around me. It's not cold, but I'm in a sacred space. Insulating myself from it feels right in a way I don't understand.

"Anyone here?"

I don't expect a response, and I don't get one. Figures. The orb keeps following me. If it has any ability to think or listen, it isn't showing it.

It's amazing that this place is still around. I can't see the night sky, but the rocks that cut off my sight is at least thirty feet off the ground in places. The light from the orb dances off the rough surfaces.

Water from the oasis must have cut its way into the old construction.

But who could build this far underground?

There's an empty doorframe, and I pass further into the tomb. The orb follows me.

The scripts on the wall are ancient. We still learn the old script out in the desert, even though we speak the same tongue as the city-folk.

But the shapes are odd and the symbols don't quite match what I expect.

They're names, places, events. No dates, or at least none I recognize.

This could be from before the kingdom.

The stonework is certainly like what we use in the desert, when we build in stone and not brick. Not the fancy stuff of the king's standard.

But it's also underground. That changes things.

I wish I could ask someone what this place is.

But who?

The ground is mostly even, but I can tell that we're heading upward. It's slow going.

Anything that could rot has rotted away, leaving only earthware and stone. I try not to breathe the dust.

The orb leads the way. I don't think the king's mausoleum holds this many chambers.

Then we're in the main hall. The altar of Akkun sits in the middle.

But it is no regular altar. Far from the usual slab of stone carved with the god's symbols, it's an upright monolith. Its top is a pyramid gilded with gold.

The red paint doesn't look like it's faded. It mingles with black patterns across the surface of the stone.

They make my head hurt.

I want to leave this place, but things move in the shadows.

Akkun's voice comes from the stone around me. "Come forward."

An obsidian mask rests at the foot of the altar. It pulls me. Bumps rise up across my skin.

But if I want to stay standing, I must step toward it. The chamber is large enouugh that I have time to look around.

I am the only person here. The orb orbits around me, dispelling the things in the shadows. But when the light fades away, they return.

"You must understand your purpose."

I stop fighting it. If the god of death wants to take me, there's nothing I can do. I push my shoulders back and stand tall, regaining my stride. I reach the mask, and kneel to pick it up.

It is cold to the touch. I turn it over in my hands. It reflects crimson light coming from somewhere inside it.

"Put it on."

"Is this the underworld?"

"You are not dead, but this is still my domain. Do you know why you are here?"

"No."

"You are here because I intend to make use of you."

"Why me?"

"You are lucky enough to talk to a god, and I deign to answer you. The mask holds the answers."

"Why is it here?"

"Because I had it placed here."

I turn the mask over in my hands. There is no opening for eyes, no indication that it's even meant to be worn. "That doesn't answer my question."

"You are a mortal."

I pause. "What will happen?"

"I will free you from this place. You will go west, and you will reach the waystation. I will send a dream to your companions, and they will meet you there."

"And if I don't put it on?"

"Then you will stay here until you descend to the underworld."

"I have not forgiven you for what you have done."

"And what have I done, in your estimation?"

"You have permitted death and destruction to flood our land."

"It is my land, and you do not need my influence to wreak death and destruction on yourselves. You will find that your people are plenty capable of wickedness, if you choose to look."

"The husks are worse than we are."

"They are still you, just dreaming. In their dreams they do what they believe they ought to do."

"Can they awaken?"

"No."

I shudder. Hanun. Of course, I felt his death before I knew it. "Then what is the point?"

"Put on the mask."

"I don't have a choice."

"No."

Despite having held it in my hands, I recoil from the ice-cold mask as I put it on my face.

I can see, though it has no eye, and I can breathe, though it has no nose.