#Yao
The wind blew hard against my thin cloak, as I slowly and painstakingly made my way across the meadows that represented what my sheep would eat tomorrow, if it wasn’t raining so hard that my hat looked like it had been dunked in a puddle. My brother, Andre, was close behind me, with his flock tagging behind his ragged clothes. Our flocks combined would give a total of one hundred and forty sheep, but unfortunately, bad weather had denied the sheep the right to eat, so most of them looked starved.
“Look there, Alek!” Andre cried, pointing to an old church that towered above a sad little tree that grew in front of the monastery. The roof looked weak. The floor was filthy and rock-hard. And upon further investigation, we discovered insects, rats, and raccoons already occupying the empty space. But it was dry, a shelter, and a good place to sleep. The sheep all crowded into the main room, and warmth infused lethargy into my body and mind, and soon, I was fast asleep, but I already knew what I would dream about, for I had had the same recurring dream for the past few days.
My mind wandered away to a beautiful grassland where my brother and I were herding our sheep. Suddenly, a girl with black hair appeared before us, and we would begin walking for a very long time, until strangely, we’d appear before the Pyramids of Egypt, that glistened in the hot desert sun. And before anything else happened, I’d wake up, and so would my brother. Apparently, our dreams were the same and interlinked, but never thought anything of it. After all, our lives had always been the same! We’d both been sent to the same seminary for three years before we got sick of it, told Father we wanted to travel the world, not become a priest, gotten his blessing, and look now. We were both shepherds, we looked alike. We both despise peppers but enjoy wine and roast beef. We…you get the idea. The only difference was that Andre was two years older than me.
The morning that we awoke, I found myself starving, and pounced on the bag of rations that was beside Andre, but he stopped me.
“We must limit ourselves, little brother. We only have a few pieces of dried meat and bread left. If you’d like to eat anything, please consider some wine. We must get to the port city by noon to sell some of our wool. The merchant there pays the highest,” he told me, taking a swig of wine. I protested, hungry beyond imagining, and finally, he let me take some bread. I washed it down with some liquor.
We traveled for most of the morning, when it was still adequately cold outside. Our sheep loyally followed us, nibbling at stumps of grass every now and then, but generally able to keep up pace. Once or twice we passed some people on a few muddy trails looking like they were headed somewhere or another, but with that glint in their eyes that told me they were just wandering. But still, both me and Andre held the grip of our revolvers with great intensity. We didn’t know who we could trust. We had a bag of gold and silver currency from our sheep’s wool, and in the Andalusian mountainside, that could mean a death sentence from bandits if no protection was at hands. Our protection came from the two firearms we had purchased at a gun store when we had just started the shepherd business. Our father demanded it, for he was scared his only sons would lose their lives to robbers and thieves.
Just before late afternoon, we arrived at the port town, where we came to the same merchant, sheared our sheep, got paid in the form of forty silver coins, and then Andre left me to go looking for a market to buy some food. I sat on a bench and read the thick book I had just purchased, but I hadn’t even gotten over the first chapter, which was of a funeral, when an old man took a seat next to me and sighed quite loudly. I was startled, and almost dropped my book. The old man smiled, as if I was acknowledging him for the first time. I was bewildered, and a bit angry at the rash man, however, not wanting to disrespect an elder, I reluctantly did not move to another seat.
“What’s that book you’re reading?” the man asked me, pointing to the novel now lying on the ground in a heap. I ignored him and took out my wine bottle. Just as I was taking a drink, the old man picked up my book, dusted it off, and studied the title for such a long time that I thought he was illiterate and could not read. But finally, he heaved and sighed again, (I grasped the wine bottle before it was shattered on the ground) then told me about his thoughts on the book.
“It is probably a good book…but I have never managed to get past the first chapter. It always stumps me!” the man said in a relaxed tone, and then put the book down. “May I have a drink from your wine bottle?”
I handed it to him, and he drank. He was about to speak again when I interrupted.
“I have to go to the lavatory,” I said, and hurried away, forgetting my book. I really did need to go, but after a quick break, I still didn’t want to go back to collect my book. The old man was getting on my nerves! So, I decided to go into a tent that read “Dream-Interpreting”. I had a few coins to spare, and the curious dream I had been having for quite some time. An old woman greeted me, and led me to the back of the tent, where she seated me, gave me a cup of soothing tea, and then told me to put my hands forward. It was then that I realized she was a gypsy! Scared out of my wits from the old tales of my childhood years, I quickly had second thoughts, but the woman did not seem so scary. She wasn’t ugly, but she certainly wasn’t pretty, and although she smiled somewhat menacingly, I could tell she wasn’t going to harm me in any way. Besides, I had my revolver at hand, tucked away between my belt.
She sprinkled something onto my palm, looked closely at my hands, and then made me describe my dream.
“It always goes the same. Me and my brother are herding our sheep in a field, when suddenly, a girl with flowing black hair that resembles the girls from the Andalusian area where I am from, and then we all walk a long way to the Egyptian Pyramids, but before I do anything, I wake up!” I narrated, with the old woman listening closely. I looked at her, expecting some sort of reaction, but she was silent for a few minutes.
“Oh my, oh my! You must travel to the Great Pyramids, where you will find a great treasure. The girl you speak of will be a unexpected companion to your travels, whom you will meet in two days when you get to Africa. For this, I won’t ask for any payment-” the old woman said, sliding my coins back to me. “-but, if you get to the treasure, you must promise me that you will return and give me one tenths of the valuables. Swear before God!”
After I had done so, I happily took my coins and left. It was just a silly old dream, nothing important, nothing at all. I would probably find the treasure. And it had saved me quite some money. I went back to the old man, who was now sleeping. Best not to disturb him.
I grabbed my book and was about to creep away when the man somehow sensed the disturbance in the environment and unfortunately, woke up.
“Hello!” he cried out, and I unhappily sat back down onto the seat.
“Hello,” I replied, much less enthusiastically, and asked him what he did for a living, trying to get the subject to another turn.
“Well, I reside in Salem,” he told me. I didn’t understand where Salem was, but seeing the man’s turban, I assumed it was nowhere near here. I didn’t ask, because I did not want to appear foreign or ignorant or stupid. Instead, I merely decided to question what his work was in Salem.
“Ha-ha! I’m the king of Salem!” he cried, laughing. Thinking the man was mental, I looked at him curiously and strangely. The man sensed my feelings, and then dropped to the ground, where he wrote with a stick into the fine sand. He wrote my father’s name. He wrote my mother’s name. He wrote the name of Andre. He wrote the name of the girl who I would meet two days from now, (her name was Elena), the name of the top priest at the seminary I had attended, the names of my sisters, my friends, and my uncles and aunts and grandfathers and grandmothers and distant relatives. Shocked, I dropped my book.
“Now, do you believe I am the king of Salem?”
#Bai
I had finished my shopping deeds (bread, cheese and more dried meat would suffice, as we were staying in town), and began to search for Alek, so that we could return to the mountain with our sheep, when I saw him staring at awe at some drawings in the ground, of our relatives, friends, people we once knew, and a strange name: Elena.
“Alek, what are you doing?”
“Oh, I’m staring at these interesting pictures. So I was waiting for you here, when a strange old man came over here, and drank my wine, as if I had invited him. So I left for a while and a lady said that she knew we were going to Egypt and meet a girl on the way. And then the man came back to tell me that he was the King of Salem, and began writing all the names of the people we had or will meet on the ground with a stick. So, we have to go! We have to go to Egypt and receive the treasure! We must go, we simply must. We can’t just stay here!”
All of a sudden, I had the feeling that we had to, simply had to go. That this was fate, which could not be messed with. We were bound to go to Egypt, bound to go to Egypt, so there was nothing I could do to stop it. “All right, All right, Alex. We’ll go. But you must follow me every step of the way, do you understand?”
“Yes, yes, of course, of course!”
Instantly, a plan generated in my mind. The first few problems were food, water and the sheep. We would have to leave sometime soon, so that we could catch up with the so-called Elena so that the fat would be completed. So, the idea was very simple. We shear off all of the sheep, sell it to the merchant for maximum profit, which would mean around two to two-point-five hundred silver pieces, enough for many cans of food, and large packets of water, of around three litres. We would need to constantly refill. The bottles would last for two days, at most, but there would be more wine and refills.
The sheep, well, they couldn’t come with us. They would die after a few days in the desert, so we could pawn them for around three thousand more pieces, enough to buy a camel or two for us on the journey. But where would be go? Well, the answer was simple. We would head south, nearing the equator, cross a little bit of see, perhaps? Then, we would keep walking and walking and walking and walking and walking and walking and walking and walking and walking and walking and walking and walking and walking and walking and walking and walking and walking and walking and walking and walking and walking and walking and walking and walking and walking and walking and walking and walking and walking and walking, until we reached Egypt. Then, we would find whatever prize there would be, and then do all the walking back to where we were now. The plan was very concise, but that was it.
Suddenly, the old man came up again, this time with two stones. “Take these,” said he, holding out a white stone and a black stone that had been in his hands. “They are called Urim and Thummim. The black signifies ‘yes’, the white, ‘no’. When you are unable to read what the omens are, these will help you. If you can, however, try to make your own decision.” Without another word, he had left the plaza as if it was a regular day.
dUfU
To say that today was normal would be an understatement. Well, the day started typically. I led out the sheep, fed the lambs and returned for my breakfast porridge. Then, I went out to the market and bought some wine for my pa and a book to read. I hadn’t many books, so this was a luxury. I sat down on my favourite bench and nibbled on a morsel of bread, breaking off pieces occasionally to feed the birds that flocked around the market stalls. I decided to visit the fortune-teller, as she was my friend. But she was not present.
In her place was a gipsy. I saw her prices and noticed that they were much lower than usual. I threw her a few coins and held my palm outstretched. She stroked my hand tenderly and pressed a few veins.
“Oh my, oh my! Oh my, oh my! You must be Elena!” Then she left the tent in a hurry. I left, confused. Before she had her outburst, she said something about brothers and the Pyramids. I guess I was heading there then.
I walked home and handed the wine to pa. I sat on the same bench as earlier, reading my book. There was an elder to my right, so I read silently. Okay, I didn’t read at all. Brothers… Pyramids. I was about to leave when the man to my right woke.
#Yao
After a really long while of hearing Andre babbling a mile about the big plan to get Egypt to obtain this treasure, I finally decided to activate plan one by snapping Andre out of it, namely, kicking him in the shins.
“Ouch! Okay you made your point, let’s shear these sheep!” Andre said, and then began removing the delicate wool from the skin of our companions. They didn’t fuss at all, instead, they had come to trust us and knew we were just going to use their wool to buy some food. Then, we brought them to a market dealer. He happily gave us the price we wanted, which was three hundred silver coins, and then, we went to a local shepherd we knew, and asked him if he wanted our flock. He agreed, and gave us five thousand silver coins. We now had a sack full of coins, and we were off to the stalls!
After talking with the man behind one of the stalls, and negotiating a bit, Andre finally came up with two bundles of food fit for a desert journey. We had around two thousand coins left. We bought two ship tickets, and set sail for the nearest port city, somewhere across the sea.
On the ship, we were told it would take approximately take four hours to cross the sea, and we both decided to take a quick nap. However, the ship captain had other ideas. He ordered us to help clean the deck, as the passengers that had went before us had gotten a bit seasick. We reluctantly and obediently cleaned up the vomit that was now bubbling over the wooden ship. It took almost half of the journey, but at the end of it, we were rewarded with a piping hot smoked steak and peppers in a flatbread with a cup of sweet syrupy drink that looked like a golden water. After we finished our quick break, the captain allowed us a quick tour of the ship’s below decks, as we were the only people on the giant galley. He took us down a level, and showed us a hall full of one thing: Cannons. There were cannons just sticking through portholes through the side of the ship, with barrels of gunpowder and cannonballs stacked into a corner. There were also an assortment of arms in the corner, like rifles, pistols, swords, daggers, etc.
“After this ol’ girl saw her fair share of battles and naval skirmishes, the Spanish navy decommissioned her to a cargo plane. But nobody took the cannons or arms, so we just keep them down here. Nobody wanted to buy them because of their rust and grime and fragileness, and the army doesn’t use these outdated models anymore. So…we decided to just keep ’em.”
Well, there sure wasn’t any room to get comfortable in the floor below the arms compartment level, because it was stacked from head to toe with cargo, everything from grain to meat to bread, and clothes, and fabric, and shoes, and other things.
“Well, there’s isn’t much to see. This is just a whole lot of cargo!” the captain said, shrugging. He started to take us above, but I protested.
“Wait, the ground isn’t that thick! That must mean there’s another level below! Why aren’t we going down there?” I asked, resisting the pull of the captain’s hand.
“Well, because…you wouldn’t want to go down there. C’mon!” the captain urged, pulling harder.
“You promised a full tour of the whole ship. Isn’t the floor below here also part of the ship?” I asked, doggedly trying to get a reaction out of the captain. Finally, he assented and let us down. Suddenly, we were in a pitch-black room, with a very unpleasant odor and noises that made me think of the old church back on that night that it had poured so.
“This, gentlemen, is where the prisoners captured from other ships were kept. Since nobody ever attempted to clean it, what you’re smelling is the scent of decaying bodies, blood, guts, and body parts. And also the other smells expected from a place like this. You will probably experience feeling in some way or another, a rat or spider. They like to reside in damp places like here,” the captain told us. I stepped into the darkness, and yellow eyes glared at me from all corners as I cautiously ventured towards the cells. I could see better, now that my eyes had adjusted to the dark surroundings of this floor. Now, I could make out many prison cells, all sitting in a block like a group of houses, with their doors wide open, but there were many bodies, or rather, collections of mostly bones and decayed meat that sat or lay on the wooden benches in the cells. The stink was rotten, but I didn’t think of it anymore. I was too busy just thinking what had probably happened here. Andre didn’t even follow me. Suddenly, something too big to be a rat or arachnid suddenly moved. In a flash, I grabbed my revolver, and I shot two rounds right where the thing had moved. It turned out to be a bone. My bullets had broke it into three pieces.
I decided I had had enough, and I tucked my weapon back into my belt, and then walked back to the other two, who were waiting anxiously upon my arrival.
“What did you see?” Andre asked, as I was sipping a cup of the same sweet drink I had had earlier, except this time like a tea. I didn’t immediately answer him. Instead, I first asked the two stones the king had given me if the souls of those prisoners had gone to heaven.
Yes.
Okay, then, now time to move on onto Andre’s question.
“I saw what humans can do. I saw now the things we will encounter. The prisoners were in horrid, terrible conditions. One kind of human had literally tortured the soul out of another kind. I wonder if that will happen to us. Andre, we had a bag of coins and two bundles of food. What will happen to us? We are cursed, but we must continue. Life is so unfair,” I said, starting to weep. Normally, I wouldn’t cry, but I felt so sorry for the men who had so suffered an unjustly fate that God had set for them. Why must they have such a sad destiny?
The ship soon docked, and while Andre heartily thanked the captain for the kind tour and also for the drinks and food, I just glumly walked off onto shore, taking in the smells of a strange and new land for the first time. Wafts of spices that I had never whiffed before entered my receptors, and it didn’t quite make me comfortable. I felt like a stranger, in this world where these new foods came to my eyes and ears, and people spoke Arabic, not Spanish. After the experience I had just…well, experienced, I wasn’t ready to take in such overwhelming sights and sounds all at once. I didn’t feel too good, and found a bar to sit myself down, while Andre went to find a lavatory. I ordered a drink that I saw some other people at another seat order, but it turned out to be tea, not wine. And then, a Spanish-speaking man came up to me, and began talking to me.
“I can guide you to Egypt,” he said.
#Bai
It had been one day. We would soon be discovering whoever was the Elena we had heard about from the King of Salem. However, all of a sudden, the man was there, asking whether we would like to go to Egypt. He seemed friendly enough, but there was this feeling in his eyes, that he was not who he seemed to be. No, no, he definitely had something strange about him. In the end, I decided that this was our only hope we could get to Egypt, and that we would follow him.
My thoughts were proved right. He had a few horses, and we rode on them. The only problem being that we were heading the wrong way. Not to Egypt, but the complete opposite way. What it had taken was a couple of shots of my gun, before we had taken him down and stole all his pieces. Instead, we had to trudge all the way to Egypt. This was probably only one of the few places where we could acquire drinking water, so we filled our large bottles full, which could pull out for at least two or three days, if we preserved it. So, we began to trudge.
The first few hours were the hardest. All we could think of was water, water, water. Of the water we had brought, in the first hour we must have used around a tenth of all of our water. The recommended amount had been one over three times twenty-four, also known as one over seventy-two. This was more than seven times our recommended amount, which meant that it was supposed to last for seven and a bit hours. Us being down in water, we had to camp down for the night, where we would simply get up at four, when the heat wasn’t as fierce. That was the idea, when we saw, before us, some other tents. Was the mysterious stranger we were supposed to meet (also known as Elena) here? Well, we could find out tomorrow, couldn’t we? But again, the fierce idea of fate surrounded me. This was supposed to happen, so we couldn’t stop it.
Alek seemed to have the same thought. He walked towards the tents, every step as cautious as a deer avoiding its predators. There seemed to be some mutterings behind the tent. “Brothers… Alek and Andre… Pyramids… Egypt… Supposed to meet on the second day… Where are they?… Have to be here somewhere… Fates are never wrong… Approaching midnight… Can’t be right.” Until Alek shouted, “We are here!”
dUfU
I picketed my horse at the caravan site. Most caravans were only corrugated iron boxes on wheels, but I could afford one of the nicer ones because of the money I had saved. And, of course, I had brought the horse trailer to tow behind me. I picked a caravan. The price to Egypt would be three gold coins and five silver ones. And a silver and bronze coin for my horse, Snowfire. To supply him with food would be another bronze coin. I paid, and, since I could drive myself round in a tractor at two, I did not need a chauffeur. I scattered the horse wagon with hay, tied a net bag of straw to the side and filled his trough with water.
We were off. My tiny bedroom had a single bed, white sheets and a pillow, a nightstand with a bowl of lavender sachets, and a lamp in the corner. Fancy for so cheap. The other rooms were a bathroom, a box with a shower, toilet and basin. The final room had a sink, gas stove, hood, cabinets and a mini-fridge. I sat in the driver’s seat at the front, steering the caravan through rain and snow.
The next day was slightly better. I had parked the caravan in a stony alcove, using rocks to wedge the caravan in place in case it slipped on a patch of water. Since I could rarely park in water sites, I had to limit my water. My water bottle supply was somewhat dented, and I had no space to put them but the mini-fridge. So, I had to drink icy cold water. I groomed Snowfire every other day, hosing him down with buckets of rainwater that had collected overnight. His (formerly) gleaming white coat usually had a crust of mud around it, as there was no opportunity to wash properly with a reliable schedule.
Snowfire was a brilliant beast. He would not even snuffle at his encrusted mud coat. Today was different. We had nearly found the spot that the gipsy told me of. I walked over to Snowfire. I gave him an apple, then made him some bran mash. He was going to stay in his wagon while I Met the “brothers”. I got my tent and my water supply. I took food that would last me a fortnight and left, leaving Snowfire in his lonely horse wagon.
#Yao
The first thing I noticed in the tent were mosquitoes. The second thing was a young and tall woman that looked European, but not from Spain. She was wearing a long sort of dress that covered her whole body, and she was sipping from a long tray of beautiful, sparkling water. There were two glasses of the valuable fluid, and me and Andre ran towards them like animals, gulping them down heavily, and then attacking the various plates of meats, fruits, desserts, salad, and flatbread that adorned the table, until everything had been sampled daintily (the disgusting dishes like veggie porridge, greens, and everything that had the slightest taste of olives in it), or completely laying in shambles, (like the broiled steak and rich egg pie). After eating for ten minutes while managing to eat up five meals’ worth of calories, we finally stepped back and set down our forks. The woman, apparently Elena, began to speak.
“So…you two are Andre and Alek, the two brothers. Well, I am Elena Volksvitch, and I am Swiss. I was on vacation with my sister when the fortune-teller told me. So, I propose to join your expedition,” Elena said, fingering her glass of water. I opened my mouth to affirm her coming along, but Andre shoved me, and then took me out of the tent.
“Why’d you do that? Either way, its Fate. She’ll come along if God destined it to be so,” I said. However, Andre laughed.
“My brother, don’t you think she’s desperate? Let’s fake it and tell her we need something in return. If she really is European, and if she can really afford so much supplies, then she must have brought along something quite beautiful for us, like jewels or even golden weapons.”
I nodded. It was a good idea. So, we went back into the tent.
“We thought about it, but we’re going to need, some sort of gift,” Andre said vaguely. The woman immediately began dragging out a chest from her carriage, and shoved it into our hands. We opened it, and our eyes sparkled with satisfaction. There were two beautifully enameled scimitars, with buds of jewels and diamonds covered the blade, and the whole scabbard was made of the purest gold. Me and Andre hooked the curved swords onto our belts. Then, the woman threw at us two giant pouches of gold coins. We were rich!
“I’ll also pay for food, caravan prices, and everything you need for a luxuriant journey to the Pyramids,” she said, and then a few servants delivered more food to the table. This time, there were four plates of butter rice with various spices and cooked steaks. There were also stuffed peppers and honey cakes for dessert, along with rich milk tea that had been sweetened with honey to the extent until it tasted just like pure sugar.
“If you have so much money, why not just travel yourself?” I asked, stuffing my face into one of the plates of meat, even though I was already on the verge of throwing up very violently. The woman sighed, and picked up a piece of pepper, and delicately used her knife to cut it into sizeable pieces.
“I’m tired of the way woman are treated. My father is a duke, and when he dies, one of my brothers will be chosen to be the next duke. Unfortunately, they are starting to practice bossing people around on me. So I took this vacation with my already married older sister and her husband in order to escape all that. But here, I meet only more gender hate. So when the fortune teller told me all that, I was ecstatic. Unfortunately, because I am a woman, I will be laughed at if I even attempt to set foot in a caravan. That’s where you two come in handy. I will disguise myself as your sister. You will be princes. Sound good?” she asked, daintily biting a small morsel of pepper in half.
“But we are dirty shepherds. You are the daughter of a royal man. We look nothing alike!” The woman just smiled.
Two days later, we were well on our way to Egypt. We would first get to a city that would depart to Egypt via caravan. But we were dressed up.
Our dirty clothes were replaced with beautiful gold robes. Our scimitars hung by our sides, with our newly gold-surfaced revolver tucked between our belt. We rode upon camels that had jackets studded with gold. Elena rode in the carriage so as to not attract attention and keep an eye on the luggage. Additionally, we had hired two servants that steered the carriage, which was linked to a horse affectionately known by Elena as Snowfire. Everywhere we went, the people stared. They were in awe.
I felt so good, sitting upon that camel, where everybody witnessed my power. Every night when we camped for the night in some town, the two guards held rifles and would guard the precious money, while Elena, Andre, and me would go to some restaurant and have some food, or just buy some fresh broiled chicken, wrap it in some flatbread, and munch on that. The vendors were glad to serve us, and whenever we came to a restaurant, everybody flocked to our table just to see how loyalty ate.
Whenever a meal was finished, I just tossed a gold coin to the waiter, who would then usually bow several times to show his gratitude. In fact, once, one of the waiters had even wanted me to show up at his kid’s birthday celebration that would be in the patio right in the restaurant the next day. I did, and the child was so happy that he bragged to everybody his father knew a prince. I gave a coin to the boy, who was so full of glee he practically began to squeal like a farm animal. I just laughed heartily.
But the good times were over, and at last, we were at the city. Now, we would sign up for a caravan that seemed competent, and then be on our way to a settlement, in order to travel even farther. But first things first. We found a restaurant that served the finest of dishes, and we ate there. After that, we sold the carriage, paid the servants, bid them farewell, and then prepared to let Snowfire go. Elena would not allow it, after she saw what was on the truck that Snowfire was currently being loaded onto. (Bill and Jerry’s Slaughterhouse, We Provide the Meat!) So, we decided to take Snowfire along, or Elena threatened she would leave us go find another man to companion her to the pyramids.
And then, we arrived at a local caravan meeting point, where we were made to sit in a stable, with an Englishman was currently reading a book. Conversation was slow and tense, but finally, he lowered his book and asked:
“Do you know what Alchemy is?”
#Bai
It is my belief that there is not a horse named Snowfire in the book Alchemist. If you have taken it from Eragon, it is another matter…
We continued on our way there, all the way to Egypt. The caravan was much cosier than walking, and then we saw the Englishman, who asked us what Alchemy was, and the first intuitive answer was the study of fates. He seemed surprised at this answer, and pulled out two stones, which were identical to the two which had been given to us by the King of Salem. I pulled out my stones as well – Urim and Thummim, and he seemed even more astounded. He began muttering under his breath.
“I would never have expected a child would have these stones, the key to fate, how on earth did he know about this? Well, I’m not sure how he knew about this, I might as well ask, because then I will know who entrusted the art, the beautiful beautiful art that controls the whole world with its simple workings and very very very VERY fascinating stones, and predictions, and tea leaves, and bones, and crystal balls and fascinating and strange objects and foretelling the future, and scrying the past, and the usage of magic, and stories of Brom the Rider whose son is Eragon the Shadeslayer (I’m 100% not turning this to Eragon). Who would entrust the hands of these rocks into him? It could have been the King of Salem, he was the one who gave me the rocks and taught me the art of Alchemy, but why would he entrust the rocks into the hands of these people? They don’t look like they know about it at all. But I can’t really judge from their looks, can I? Yes, indeed, so I have to think before I say anything about this. They seem like they’ve met an Alchemist before, but how can I know that? Perhaps I need to know and maybe they need to know, but they are probably going all the way to the Pyramids to find some treasure. That will be especially good for them, they are probably going to get some special cash so that they can pay back the King of Salem. But I don’t know. I don’t know. Maybe, maybe not. I don’t know at all. Well, possibly that they are going to go, but I have no idea at all.”
dUfU
I don’t think I could travel to Egypt without a horse, and I’m unoriginal, okay? And also, I wasn’t about to call it Cadoc.
I looked at the alchemist. An Englishman, eh? Well, he better help us find the treasure. He talked about an ‘elixir’ that could change any ordinary base metal into the most wonderful and pure gold. If drank, it could also grant immortal life. He talked of philosophy, chemistry, sorcery and witchcraft and wizardry. The boys listened with rapt attention, wide eyes and flushed cheeks. I listened too, caught in a world of wonder. He talked on and on, his words flowing like an infinite waterfall. But then he stopped, panting. I found that all of us were breathing rather heavily.
When we turned to depart, Andre (I’m sorry, I don’t know who is who) had an idea. He turned to the alchemist.
“You can travel with us!” he said, with apparent excitedness. The caravan was meant for four people, so we agreed to let him join. Days passed, and each day grew more treacherous. We neared the pyramids, but with a great cost. The alchemist told us of deeper and more complex points of alchemy. Then we arrived at our destination. Not the pyramids, but a small and musty crystal shop.
We entered. Everything had a fine film of dust over it, but the crystals and the products were polished to perfection. A gaunt man was at the counter.
“Help, nobody wants my crystals anymore! I used to be the attraction of the village, with my crystal cups and jewellery. I used to lure international merchants to this shop and sell for prices you could only dream for. But now this shop is devoid of people, and nobody has visited for over a year! A year!” He ranted, tears pooling at the edge of his crinkly eyelids.
#Yao
We all didn’t want to see the glass merchant like this, but unfortunately, we didn’t see any way to help him. Just when we went in to buy some glass to console the old man, a party of customers suddenly came in, and purchased several elegant and majestic glasses, which were beautiful and tall. The storekeeper squealed with glee as he watched the thick paper bills being handed over. When the customers had left, he looked at us and pointed.
“YOU are the reason that those people came in and purchased glass!” he cried, delighted, and offered us a job on the spot, for a good amount of money each hour. Of course, the Englishmen took up the offer, because he needed money, but me and Andre pondered our verdict.
“We have Elena, and she has a lot of money. Do we need this job? It will waste us a month’s time.” Andre told me, contemplating this careful decision. Of course, I countered.
“But what if we don’t find the treasure, or Elena leaves? Where will we be then? Besides it will help us learn the habits and ways of these people, and let us learn how to speak Arabic!” I said. Andre and I argued for a while, without anybody relenting. But of course, I won in the end. Elena was just happy to be out of her household where the standards were that women were to keep their place in looking after children. And so, us four began to shine and clean the crystals. We even came up with new inventive ideas to help develop a booming business for the merchant.
We built a display case with many of the shop’s finest crystals compiled together at the bottom of the hill where the shop was located, and we then purchased bags of tea, and poured each glass full of the steaming liquid, and opened the windows of the shop, so that the tangy and bitter smell of the drink wafted far beyond the hill. People flocked to the little crystal shop above the hill. Soon, the merchant was happily stuffing more and more bills and coins into the drawer. In fact, he had enough to create a little savings account for when he needed it. He had filled every drawer, every box, and every other place capable of holding money with bills.
Even though we all had a lot more money, there was more to our outcome than merely money. We had learned much, about how to dress in this strange country, what not to do or was considered impolite. Plus, we were now all fluent in Arabic, except for Elena, who had a hard time learning the language because she was always worried that she would become so good at Arabic she would forget her Swiss, and then everything she had ever known would go into shambles.
When we left the merchant, he told us to go well, and gave us one last bundle of money.
Soon, we were off, in a caravan where everybody was either carrying a rifle or a pistol, we shed our clothes, sold them for more money, and then bought some plain clothes to avoid thieves. Elena was rather uncomfortable in the attire that woman usually wore in the land we were in, because it wasn’t as open as a dress. We used some money to buy some weapons. The Englishman secretly showed us the dagger he had in his clothes and the revolver he hid in his pockets. Elena bought a dagger. I discarded my gold revolver, but kept the scimitar, it was a decorative sword, but it was sharp. Additionally, there was a great American made Henry repeating rifle, which I purchased, along with bullets and a dagger. Andre just decided on a simple silver pistol which had two barrels, and a long sharp broadsword.
Our journey had begun.
The caravan was long, but we made good progress on the first day. It was hot, but if you went inside your caravan and drank lots of water and ate cold soup and bread for meals, you were okay. And so, it probably doesn’t come as a surprise that the second day was also pretty calm. No bandits, no robbers, no sandstorms, no winds. But this luck wouldn’t last.
We saw a band of robbers coming up to us, with their shining blades and axes. But the good thing was the men and boys all fired volleys into the crowd, including me, Andre, and the Englishman. The robbers pulled out their firearms, and fired multiple shots at us, but they were too far to be any threat. Realizing that our rifles would soon obliterate them from a distance, the robbers quickly fled, but we managed to pick off a few still with our guns.
In a few days, the leader of the caravan called all the men and boys over thirteen for a meeting to discuss the situation that we were in. After a hasty dinner of olives and pickled vegetables with cold meats and bread, the men of the caravan all took a seat around a large bonfire that was burning bright red, with orange flames and bright sparkles that danced along the piles of kindling. Daggers were taken out of their sheaths and shown to others, scimitars raised high to display the glory and sharpness of each blade, and rifles clinked together. Pistols were traded together like cards in a poker game, and hookahs were lit and shared between groups, The traditional smell of a meat and vegetable stew simmered on the stove. A bit was poured into each of the many bowls, one for every person that was now sitting at the fire. I drank my stew quickly, famished, but also excited to hear what was so important to hear. I spooned out the hunks of meat and vegetable that were still left in the bowl.
Elena had ranted and complained and been angry for a pretty long time, stating that this was discriminatory and that she should be able to hear the decision. After all, she had a point. The decision would affect everyone, even her, so why shouldn’t she be present to hear what would happen to her life? But rules were rules, and if we didn’t comply with them, the leader of the caravan would kick us out.
Then, where would we be? In a hot desert without any knowledge of the land, vulnerable to robbers, and not knowing at all where there might me an oasis.
But we promised her we’d fill her up on everything that happened, and make sure she knew everything that happened at the meeting. But still then she pouted.
Finally, the leader of our group of wagons and camels called us together for the final decision.
“After lots of deliberating, I have decided it would be in our best interest to head to a small oasis town just two days journey off. We will get munitions and water, and then we shall part ways, each of us going our separate paths and reaching our different destinies,” the leader told us.
No one said anything, letting the subtle words sink in.
#Bai
@dudu or @dufu or @soapbubble#1 or whatever your name is, you might as well just call the horse Saphira, or Thorn.
So it was that we were walking across the lands of Egypt, and we kept on avoiding the hot sun. The plan was to keep walking and walking, to which we would start at dawn, when the weather would not be so boiling as to make us stop, and would stop at midday to rest, then continue at around four O’Clock. This provided a brilliant system for us to keep walking and stopping and stopping and walking and walking and stopping and stopping and walking and walking and stopping and stopping and walking and walking and stopping and stopping and walking and walking and stopping and stopping and walking and walking and stopping and stopping and walking and walking and stopping and stopping and walking and walking and stopping and stopping and walking, and finally reaching the Pyramids.
But the truth was, we separated into our different ways after buying and stocking our ammunition, which meant our guns were fully loaded and filled with bullets, our rapiers were gleaming like the sword Brisignr, the strength was not unlike the strength of the Shade Durza, or the dragon Shruikan with the heart of hearts, and the fact that we were bonded well together, separating us was like Oromis and Glaedr, a reluctant but necessary loss. And so we kept walking. However, there was no large surprises, until ahead there were two roads, leading into separate directions. And using the technique an old herbalist, also known as Angela, had taught a Dragon Rider, Eragon II, which way to go. It was always left, undoubtedly. It had to be left.
However, we stumbled upon what seemed like a group of robbers, who began trying to attack us and steal our food and provisions. Though we were not strong sword fighters, the Alchemist was a knowledgeable person on the ancient language, and so shouted, “Slytha!” and the men fell to sleep immediately, although there was still around five. Drawing out our rapiers, we ran forward, and I parried two blows before stabbing, and although I missed, the opponent was forced to defend, allowing me to know the hilt out of his hand and stab him in the heart. My second opponent was much stronger, although still weak, he managed to force me to defend until I poked him in the eye and then the stomach. We continued.
dUfU
(for this, pretend that the nile is not polluted)
So much violence. Still, we were taught to defend ourselves in Switzerland, and I knew how to handle a gun decently. And I was the fencing champion for four years straight. I guess you could say that I relished violence. But you would be wrong. I don’t enjoy the violence, but I do like the art in which the violence is carried out. Confusing, I know, but I just don’t like violence.
We came to face another fork in the road. Again, it was left, undoubtedly. It was always left. If you looked at it from the right path, the left would be right and right, the path we had just been on. So left is always right. We continued, trudging along the path of sand. We reached the Nile. After adding three drops of iodine to our water, we trudged on again. Our steps were a pattern, like those small drum beats. Left, right, left, right. After the long period of time that was, in reality, only thirty minutes. After depleting a tenth of our water, we, again, began walking, a lonely group who could die unnoticed.
Golden sand swirled around our feet. I put on ski goggles, earplugs and nose plugs. Alek and Andre did the same. We were to face a sandstorm at any moment; we needed to be ready. We walked along endless paths, the landscape only made of dunes and mouthwatering hallucinations of water. At dusk, we were almost collapsed with fatigue, our vision blurred and dim.
This is a nice place to die, I thought dimly as the sand swirled around me. But, we carried on, resolute and unbreaking. Sometimes, the Englishman would heal us when we were on the brink of death, his spells knitting us back together. We had to find the pyramids.
#Yao
We were not so sure we would be able to find any path to any sort of pyramid or whatnot, but apparently, we all knew some sort of defending ourselves, especially Elena, who explained to us she liked violence, but she didn’t like it. She liked doing it, but she didn’t like what happened after the whole stabbing and shooting and exploding and wounding. I didn’t understand anything, but Andre seemed to, so I decided to ask him. But he just told me he had not an inch or grasp of what Elena had just said. But, nevertheless, she was a great gunslinger and sword-expert, and also seemed to be able to keep up a brisk pace, without any sign of being tired, even when we were begging to take a small break. She scoffed at us, hints of contempt in her words.
“I had to take long hikes on the Alps with a personal trainer that Father hired. You think this is anything? At least you’re not being chased by a goat or in danger of plunging to a horribly, head-splitting death!” she told us, moving onward.
The Alchemist didn’t really say anything, he just accompanied us, sort of. Sometimes, he’d point out omens and tell us about them, like perhaps everything from hawks to a scorpion in our boots. I just thought the scorpions were nuisances, nothing other than that.
We decided it would be best if the Englishman went a separate way, after all, he had different aspirations than us. Therefore, when there came a fork in the road, the Englishman chose one that was different from ours. He said goodbye, but there wasn’t much close emotions. After all, he had just been another part in our destiny.
He took his large elephant gun, and big us farewell, riding away on his camel. The rest of us, the four of us, we moved onward. After a short lunch of bread and scarce water, we hear a noise, like the thumping of hooves. I dropped my piece of hardened bread into the sand, where the particles of the vast wasteland quickly disposed of it.
It was a group of robbers, this time, they held great muskets and had a shining cannon, which they wheeled towards us, and let fly a giant cannonball, which exploded near us. We didn’t have much time until they loaded another cannonball into the great behemoth of destruction.
I quickly unslung my Henry rifle, and let loose a barrage of bullets, aiming at the robbers. The Alchemist charged toward them with his scimitar, Elena twisted elegantly and gracefully in a dance of death with her two rapiers, and Andre let loose 12 gauge shells from his pistol, which decimated the thieves.
Soon, the cannon was ready for another shot, but this time, now that we hadn’t taken the warming shot and had even dared to kill most of the thieves, it was now a whiff of grapeshot if we messed up, or perhaps didn’t dodge the shot. Grapeshot was just a canister that had tiny musket shells or other objects in it that would explode and completely obliterate everybody within a hundred meter radius. So, naturally, we shot anybody who attempted to light the fuse, but one of the thieves hurled a torch at the cannon’s fuse just as his comrade dropped from two shots from my Henry, and I shot him as well, but unfortunately, the cannon was close to defusing, so then Elena saved all of us by taking a sharp dagger from a dead thief’s belt, and hurling it at the quickly disappearing rope on top of the cannon, and with incredible accuracy and speed, managed to cut the rope right before the cannon exploded, and because the rope had disappeared, the cannon went up in flames, shooting little balls everywhere, luckily not hitting us, but completely killing every single one of the remaining thieves. We had succeeded, but when I took a closer look, I found that one single shrapnel piece had lodged itself in my skin, and my wound was bleeding profusely. I passed out.
I woke up on a bed of leather in a makeshift tent, with a bandage around my arm, the shrapnel had been removed, and the wound had been cleaned and washed. The bleeding had stopped, and Andre was standing besides me, holding my hand, and erupted into cheers when I awoke. He excitedly handed me soup, bread, dried meat, everything I needed. I still felt weak, and so didn’t touch the food, because I didn’t need it, and Andre told me the whole story.
“When you passed out, we quickly set up a tent. We managed to clean your wound, and wrapped it up. But we found out that the shrapnel could have damaged your bone or even entered a vein, so we were afraid of blood clotting. You might have even died! In fact, let me tell the others you survived right now!” he cried, leaping off the stool he was sitting on, and going to find the others. I took a sip of the soup, which was just boiled water with herbs, spices, and a few strips of cabbage and meat. The bread was inviting after a long period of inactivity and hunger, so I quickly finished the meal.
Elena and the Alchemist were overjoyed at the good news that I was alive and well, and we continued on. After the last encounter with the thieves, it didn’t feel quite right to just let our guns hang from our shoulders, so we decided to hold our weapons with a tight grip, and never let go. My Henry rifle, now having been used in battle, was worn and rugged, but comfortable on my hands.
After many days, we set camp near a monastery, and the Alchemist suggested that we eat a meal there.
The monks welcomed us with open arms, as it was their duty to God, and gave us all the food they had, right now. We hungrily ate the bowl of fruits, and were almost full before the main course of fresh prawns and lettuce and rice even came. After that, the Alchemist took us to a room with several tables.
“I know I have been secretive from you youngsters, so today, I will finally reveal what I can do. I will show you my trade. In other words, I will turn a simple metal into gold.”
I was excited beyond words.
#Bai
We continued on walking, with not much exciting happening. There were many sandy paths, which were often covered by heaps and heaps and showed no signs of stopping. We showed no signs either, for we kept walking and resting and resting and resting and walking and walking and trying to sleep in the heat and walking and resting and resting and resting and resting and resting and resting and walking and waking and thinking about our sheep and Alchemy and magic words the man had used, for example, Slytha, and the stories he had told us about, of Eragon Shadeslayer and his father, Brom the rider, and the stories of how Oromis had been slain by Murtagh, and how there had been many dragon eggs hidden under the island, and how our horse was called Saphira, as had Eragon Shadeslayer’s horse, and how Ellesmera looked, and how strange the land had become after that, and how there were many thousands of riders before.
Then we kept on trodding forward with nothing happening, until more bandits attacked us, this time a group of ten or more, began fighting us. I killed around two with a swipe of my sword, and one man came in with a sword and tried to kill me, without success, but when I sliced his weapon in two he looked backwards and tried to run, for he realised his mistake, but it was too late. Soon, he lay in the bloodied mess. Suddenly, three bandits loomed over, and I didn’t have time to reach for my sword. Shouting, “Brisingr!” just like the Alchemist had, the first started burning, the second and third stood, dumbfounded, and it gave me time to bring my weapon up and crashing down onto their heads.
I had no idea at all how I had managed the feat, and with no one teaching me I did not know at all what was going on, but the ideas of the Ancient Language came naturally to me. Somehow or other, when someone said something in the ancient language, I could translate it at will. However, the skill required lots and lots of practice, and I lacked that heavily. So, every morning, I would keep a pebble in my pocket and say, “Stenr Reisa” and the stone would rise, perhaps a few centimeters or two, before falling down. But I knew with this continuous practice it be certain I would succeed. And everyday we were moving closer and closer to the pyramids…
dUfU
When are we ending this?
With every step, we grew wearier. With every breath, our lungs strained. With every blink, our eyes grew heavier. At last, we had to succumb to the blackness of sleep that was waiting. Slowly, the aquamarine sunset sky faded into a delicate pastel blue, then slowly into a soft candyfloss rose. Streaks of gold adorned the sky, and the moon was a dainty scratch etched into the above. The candyfloss turned into muted orange, and at last, a misted black. Stars scattered the night. We set up our tents and, without a word, closed our eyes to a dreamless slumber.
We had begun our aimless trudging when we began to hallucinate. Water, freshwater. It was cold and inviting, silky eddies flowing ahead. I rubbed my eyes. Gone. I looked at a cactus. Pincushion. I cut a part off and speared it on a stick. I held a magnifying glass in one hand and a match in another. I eventually lit it and roasted the cactus over the single flame. I brushed it with oil and some seasoning. I removed the spikes and took a big bite. Not too bad. The boys had picked up the trick and were soon devouring numerous cacti, with only the cooking time between.
As I polished off the last cactus, I realized that it was delicious because it was seasoned and had lots of juice! To test my theory, I cut off a piece and removed the spikes. I then squeezed as hard as I could. A trickle of water dripped into my opened mouth. It continued for nearly ten seconds. After filling our waterskins with cactus juice, we trudged on. Andre somehow found an egg, and we brushed a rock with oil and fried it. After cutting it, we ate and walked on full stomachs. Then, on the horizon, were the pyramids.
#Yao
Along this entire journey, I will clarify that Andre had been acting weird, telling stories about dragons and swords and Shades and Urgals and elves. He had even gotten to try and lift a tiny pebble inch by inch every single morning. But I believed it was a hallucination, so I told him to forget it, and he did, and everybody moved on, the pebble got thrown away, and…
THERE WAS NO MORE NONSENSE ABOUT ANYTHING RELATING TO YOU-KNOW-WHAT, “ANDRE”!!!
So, continuing on from all utter nonsense and disruption and rudeness from Bai and the whole mismatched episode of two book being mixed, let us continue our journey. We were almost to the pyramids, when the alchemist told us we would have to go alone without him for this portion of the path to our fates. He told us he was not in our destinies, so we could bring him along. We all thanked him, and departed.
At last, Elena showed us another amazing skill up her sleeve. She grabbed a snake out of nowhere under a bush, shot it twice in the head, chopped off its head, dunked it in oil, onions, and dried peppers, then grilled it on a rock with our natural oven, the sun.
“Er, you want us to eat that??” I inquired, picking at the roasted flesh of the reptile. Elena nodded, proudly. She then made us scrambled snake eggs, except most of the eggs were developed and already matured so you could clearly taste the same distinct flavor that had been in the snake, and I saw a head or tail or foot sticking out of nowhere from the yellow goodness. Elena sat down, used her fork and knife, and ate mouthful after mouthful, using a procedure where she would drag a piece of snake meat into some honey, then cover it with eggs, and stuff it into her mouth. I believe she actually ENJOYED her creation, despite the abomination it was. I politely and daintily took a piece of egg that didn’t have any stray limbs poking out, and then chewed it slowly. It wasn’t delicious, but not quite terribly. Maybe it was because I was starving. Or that I had become used to survival food, like grilling lizards for a barbeque, except most of the lizards Andre brought for us to eat were poisonous, so it kind of didn’t lean in our favor.
Andre, however, wasn’t so careful. Always happy to try new things, he grabbed a hunk of meat, and throttled it into honey, making the meat slowly let the sweet substance ooze into the piece. He then carefully, placed it full into his mouth, and chewed, and swallowed.
There was a three second timer before he exploded, and began shrieking around, trying to sip water. I gave him a canteen, and he gulped down the clear liquid, finally sitting down.
“What happened?” Elena asked, obviously offended and upset at being disrespected so brashly. He smiled and just said it was a bit spicy for him, but he told me the truth later on. He informed me that when he’d eaten the meat, he felt like a million flavors were in his mouth, all of which weren’t very friendly at all.
“Honey might go fine with bread, or maybe with some pepper oil and chicken like at that Turkish restaurant which had Chinese cuisine, but paired with snake meat? Ugh…” he said, making a face.
And so after that fiasco, we continued on our very wrong journey, which had been full of disasters. But in a day, we could see the magnificent pyramid, and I could estimate we were about a few hours of riding away from the massive structures. But a great sandstorm came, and we rode steadily through it, unfortunately not seeing our path.
After a few sandy hours, I could finally touch something solid. A structure, but I couldn’t tell what it was supposed to be. It felt course and comfortable, but also solid and rugged. What was it?
At that moment, as if on cue, God lifted the curtain blocking our way, and revealed the massive pyramid in front of us.
We dug for a very long time, desperately trying to get out out the treasure, and soon, we could see fifteen men coming our way. They asked what we were doing. We told them about our dreams, and why we were here.
It was then that they noticed the glint of gold coins in my pouch, and lunged at us, but fatally realized they didn’t have any weapons. We immediately shot two rounds of volleys into the crowd, then lunged at them with swords and pistols. They did have short daggers, but ever a rapier could defeat that. I had a flamberge, and I swung it and hacked a thief to pieces. I shot another one, and finished him off with my great sword. I dueled with another bandit, while shooting into the onslaught. My fellow dueler was quickly subdued when I felled him with one sweep of my sword.
Reloading and getting back into position, I noticed four thieves making off for it. I shot two at close range with my pistol, then grabbed my rifle and consecutively fired at them, hitting one and wounding the other. I shot him again, twice, to ensure he was dead.
As a thief near us was struggling to breath, as his sword wounds bled heavily he hissed he had once had a similar dream, about finding his treasure under a very light tree and near a temple, and then, he talked no more. We stood puzzling for a moment what in the world he had meant by saying those words, and then we all realized it, except for Elena, who still was pondering the concept. And Andre and me, we laughed hysterically, for our so called treasure, was right back in our homeland. And so, with a new air of knowing, we turned around.
Epilogue:
We found our treasure alright, in Spain. ALL THE WAY BACK. FROM WHERE WE CAME. THE JOURNEY WAS ALL FOR NOTHING! But, our treasure was there, and it is still there. We decided to leave it as it is, but we took enough for the gypsy woman, whom we had promised to give to her.
And also, Andre found a good wife!
Yes, Andre and Elena got married, and they’re currently living in a giant statehouse in Switzerland. Elena’s father no longer nags her about getting a respectful husband, and Andre can live in luxury. He gets to eat cakes and steaks and fondue! I get to enjoy dry bread and wine. But, oh well. I don’t even know what fondue is.
Everybody’s happy. I have a lot of sheep, too, which I trade in for gold. I still don’t need the treasure, but I will always know where it shall be, if I ever need something to pick up my tab.
THE END