II. The Crimson Sands (Chapter Two)
“I don’t know what Quatal was so worried about,” says Burt as he climbs out into the blinding sun. “What did he say again? The Crimson Sands thirst for something. Well, nuts to him, cos we’ve already got our hands on some Highland coffee and the day’s not even through yet!”
You follow Burt, but you cannot shake the feeling of apprehension. Gaius had mentioned a golden pyramid, or rather, warned you about it. Have you seen it before?
“Come on, Adventurer. If we make it back to Amalhasu tonight, then we can get a good night’s rest before the Shuffle tomorrow,” Burt says. “I reckon I can figure out a few more of Quatal’s moves before then too.”
You gasp as a thought strikes you. You pull out the pamphlet for the Shuffle that Allard had given you before you left the guild.
“What’s the matter?” Burt says. You wave the brochure under his nose. “I know what the Shuffle is; quit it!”
You sigh and point to the emblem emblazoned on the front of the pamphlet.
“A golden pyramid? The emblem of the Shuffle is a pyramid.” Burt says slowly. “Gaius said something about a pyramid. As if it was important to the fate of The Great Pond or something.”
You nod. Despite the gravity of the situation, you stifle a chuckle at the rare look of contemplation on Burt’s face.
“You know what? I’m not one to fuss over shady prophets and whatnot. I’m here to be the best at cards and to take home whatever riches there are to be had,” Burt declares.
You both make it to the top of the dune that hid Gaius’ cave.
“Say, where’s our lamek?” Burt asks.
You scan the vicinity for any sign of your faithful steed, but you see nothing but shimmering red sand.
“Blast the old beast,” says Burt. “I guess we have to head back on foot. Do we have enough water?”
You nod, pulling out a couple of flasks of water. You pour out a cupful and douse you and Burt’s sandshark cloaks, which absorb the liquid immediately and take on a bright sheen.
“Allard had better be right about these cloaks,” Burt says doubtfully. “But we should be protected from the heat on the way back at least.”
You set out through the endless dunes in the direction of the city, but traveling on foot through the sands is an entirely different experience when compared to riding on the back of a desert-trained animal.
“My eyes feel like jelly jerky,” Burt wails.
You look back, but the winds have already covered your footprints. Up ahead is an endless stretch of land and dusty red air. You feel as though you might disappear from the face of the world and no one would bat an eye. Ominous shadows beneath the sands have approached you on your steady trudge south, but to your immense relief, they have entirely ignored you. As far as you are concerned, Allard has been right about the properties of the sandshark cloaks, and you vow to pay more attention to his advice.
“Just a little further, don’t you think?” Burt croaks. As usual for the south, the sun dips rapidly toward the horizon, plunging the landscape in an eerie purple-red panorama. “It took us a shade or so to make it out here by lamek, so by now we should be approaching the gates of Amalhasu, right? Right?”
But you can hardly hear his parched voice. You spot a figure in the distance, running towards you in great haste. You tug at Burt’s cloak and point.
“Quit it, Adventurer, I’m thinking about all the things I’ll eat once we’re back at an inn. Wait a second, is that…?”
The shadowy figure raises an arm to wave at you, and you wave back uncertainly. There is no mistaking who it is as it approaches.
“Phew, I’m so glad I found you guys!” says the breathless whisker as she screeches to a halt in front of you.
She wears a sparkling sandshark cloak over her green Borozon robe.
“Soraya!”
“Aren’t these cloaks neat?” she says with a twirl. “Allard sent word as soon as you left, and he gave me one of these. I mean, the Eastern Forests can get mighty hot and sticky, but boy, the southern heat is something else.”
“Wha…what?” Burt stammers. “But what are you here for?”
“And nice to see you again too, Burt,” Soraya says with a huff. “I’m here to see you play in the Shuffle, of course.”
“Oh.” Burt still seems to be in shock. “Thanks, I guess. I’m always ready to play a good game of cards.”
“You and your cards,” Soraya says, shaking her head. She turns to you. “Amalhasu is still a few shades away, but I suggest you set up camp here for the evening. Sandshark cloaks don’t work as well against predators during the night and who knows what other things you might come across in the dark.”
After exchanging a glance with Burt, you nod feverishly. Your legs feel as though they might splinter at any moment and you flop gratefully onto the warm sand. With three in the party, you somehow feel much safer. Burt collapses face down on the sand with an almighty groan. Soraya tries to wake him back up, but Burt waves her attempts away, saying he would sleep where he is. She sighs and pulls out a couple of sturdy tents from her pack.
“I brought a couple of desert tents in case,” she says. “Give me a hand, will you, Adventurer? Burt will be fine by himself in one, they’re not very roomy.”
You finish setting them up just as the sun dips completely beyond the horizon.
“Say, Adventurer,” says Soraya. She lies next to you in one of the tents. Burt had fallen into a deep sleep outside, so you had no choice but to build his tent around him. You can hear his rumbling snores as though he is right beside you. “The guild is looking much better since last time I saw it.”
You laugh appreciatively. Without Soraya’s generosity, the Embers of the Phoenix would still be in a state of disrepair.
“You forgive me for running out from you, right?” Soraya says. She shifts awkwardly in her sleeping bag. “I was angry. And scared. I was so sure I would meet my mother again with your help, but when I heard you would all leave after the quest was over even after we found out the truth…I guess I couldn’t see past myself.”
You nod, though you can’t help but feel awkward. Soraya had, after all, given you a generous reward for completing her quest in the end, even though her terms hadn’t been fulfilled to the letter. Maybe she wanted some of the gold back? But you know most of it had already been spent on Allard’s new massage chair. Soraya laughs lightly.
“No, I think you misunderstand. I just meant that I feel terrible for ever doubting you. That’s why I came back.”
You give her a tired smile and snuggle into your blanket. Night had truly fallen outside and the quiet ambience is punctuated with the rustling and chirping of small nocturnal creatures. You are about to fall asleep when you feel a light tap on your shoulder.
“Adventurer, you better read this. Allard gave it to me before I left,” whispers Soraya.
You sigh and unwrap the parchment, holding it up to the faint moonlight that filters through the tent. You sit upright after taking in the first few words written in Allard’s tidy lettering.
Adventurer.
Burt plundered the guild treasury before he left. I don’t know what he plans, but this is the last straw. I’m sending the cavalry out to deal with him, but until then, keep him busy. Do not trust a word he says.
You turn wide-eyed toward Soraya. You remember the promise Burt had made to you a long time ago about not stealing again from the guild, and you angrily punch the sand. Soraya holds a finger to her lips.
“Wait here, Adventurer. I’ll go to Burt and talk to him.”
You wait impatiently in your tent, unable to fall asleep. What is taking Soraya so long? You hear muffled voices from the other tent and then an angry outburst. You bolt upright. There is the furious unzipping of a tent flap and fast shuffling footsteps toward you. Before you can react, the entrance to your tent bursts apart, and Burt stands there, wielding a gleaming curved sword. You search his eyes for a hint of reason, but you’re met with the chilling look of deadly intent. Allard’s note flashes across your mind. But surely... you know Burt?
Burt lets out a strangled scream and lunges at you, swinging the blade wildly. You yell and conjure a frost shield to repel his attack, and you both crash against the side of the cramped tent. You hear loud ripping as the tent walls split apart. Burt untangles himself and triumphantly brings the blade down, straight at your exposed neck. You dispel your shield and aim a swift frost spear upwards. The speed of your icy projectile startles Burt, and he loses his balance. As he flaps his arm to rebalance, the spear pierces his right arm, making him drop his sword. Blood splatters across the sandy bottom of the tattered tent.
“I’ll get you for that, you imposter,” Burt screams at you. “What have you done with Soraya?”
Burt reaches for his blade with his uninjured arm, but you take several bewildered steps back. What on earth is he talking about? As Burt springs forward again, you dodge his clumsy attack, and your eyes meet his wild, unfocused ones. Burt’s blade slices across your pack, which lies in the sand, and its contents spill out. An idea occurs to you as a pungent aroma hits your nostrils. You scrabble in the sand for a handful of Gaius’ Highland coffee beans. You shove some in your mouth and chew furiously. In an instant, the demolished tent and the wicked sword in Burt’s hand disappear in a wisp of smoke. Burt remains, flailing aimlessly, so you freeze his movements with a well-placed ice spell and force-feed him some coffee beans.
“Wha…what? Adventurer?” Burt splutters. You release him from his icy shackles, and he collapses in a heap.
You both lie in the sand, panting, looking up at the vast midnight sky with its countless twinkling stars. You turn to Burt.
“I dunno what came over me,” Burt says. “I remember we met Soraya when it was getting dark, and then the next moment, I was asleep in a tent. Then…” He glances at you. There is a nervous twitch in his cheeks. “You came into my tent.”
You stare at Burt, flabbergasted. You tell him about your conversation with Soraya in your own tent and how she left you to go talk with him.
“But that doesn’t make any sense!” Burt exclaims. “I remember clearly, you came to me and said there is someone masquerading as you in the other tent, and that the fake ‘you’ had already... already done away with Soraya. And you gave me that sword—to quickly go and put an end to the fake you. Plus, I would never steal from the guild, ever again.”
Burt buries his face in his hands. His open wound is still dripping onto the cold sand. You rummage in your pack for the first-aid kit and quickly dress the cut.
“Thanks Adventurer. So, I guess the Soraya we met wasn’t real?” Burt says, looking at the dark red spots in the ground. “That Quatal. He warned us already. ‘The Crimson Sands thirst for blood and swallow those weak of mind.’ It must have deliberately tried to pit us against each other. Sort of like a test.”
You nod gravely as you apply the finishing touches to the bandage.
“I’m getting the creeps,” Burt says suddenly. “If the you who came into my tent is the fake, then are we dealing with a creature or just another mirage of the Crimson Sands?”
You are about to reply, but your breath catches in your throat. You point a shaky finger at the droplets of Burt’s blood in the sand.
“What is it?” Burt demands, but he too is stunned into silence. The dark, red sand where he had bled quivers violently. You and Burt scrabble away just in time as a murky shadow rises from where you had previously been, and you watch in horror as a colossal form takes shape before you.
“It’s the pyramid,” Burt says faintly.
Towering over you is a shining pyramid. Unearthly, purple flames dance about it, and a ceaseless squelching makes you clap your hands to your ears. A grotesque eye, staring out of its center, swivels in every direction before settling on the two of you.
“I see you.”
A terrible voice fills the air. You squeeze your hands tighter, but there is nothing you can do to stop the sound.
“Bearer of the Phoenix. A darkness falls upon The Great Pond and those who are Marked are destined for utter destruction. Abandon your quest. The Shuffle shall bring your ruin. Abandon your quest, and become one with the sands.”
The eye of the pyramid gives way to a gaping black hole that seems to compress the very air around it. You tear your eyes away and turn to grab Burt, but he shrugs your hand off and steps forward.
“Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice,” Burt begins. He rummages around in his sleeve and whips out a card. “Take this, you dirty pile of sand!”
He slaps the card down between himself and the great pyramid.
“Run, Adventurer!”
You and Burt tear across the gloomy dunes, not daring to check if you are being followed. Adrenaline courses through your veins, and you manage to maintain your pace until a sliver of light cracks over the horizon.
“There!” Burt screams. He points at a speck in the distance. You nearly cry with relief as the gates of Amalhasu loom in the distance. “We made it, Adventurer. I wish I could say the same for our lamek, though.”
You both pound at the heavy wooden gates, your lungs feeling as though they would rip apart in your chest.
“Let us in, for the Old Wizard’s sake, let us in!”
There is a moment’s silence, then a tremendous creak as the gates inch open. You both squeeze through the gap as soon as it is wide enough and tumble over each other into the bright streets of the city.
“Say, I know you whiskers,” grunts the gatekeeper. “You came to the city earlier yesterday. Haven’t you learned anything about the Crimson Sands? Blasted tourists.”
He clicks his tongue as he and his companion exchange dark looks, then they turn to close the gates again. You and Burt are much too relieved to be bothered by his comments, and pull each other to your feet after catching your breaths. You ask Burt what the card he had thrown at the pyramid was.
“Oh, that,” Burt says with a ghost of a smile. “That was Absolute Serenity. In Last Fish, it negates any magical effect of an opponent’s card and ends their turn. I’m a bit gutted about losing that one; it’s one of my best cards. But I figured, if it’s that powerful within the game, it must have some sort of effect in real life. Plus…”
Burt reaches into his sleeve and pulls out another card. You gasp. The illustration on it has an uncanny resemblance to the monstrosity you had just seen in the Crimson Sands.
“Look, the Golden Pyramid! I recognized it at once. No wonder my Absolute Serenity had an effect on it; they’re both part of the collection. And do you know what this means?” You are unable to match Burt’s rising excitement, partly due to exhaustion, but you gesture for him to continue. “It means that Last Fish has closer magical ties to our real Great Pond than we realize!”
You nod appreciatively. Perhaps you should look into the card game a little more closely than you have previously.
“Anyway, we better go find Quatal and get back our atlas. I hope we have enough coffee beans left for Zul’gumbi.”