11-03-2015, 01:44 AM
They did some digging, lifted some rocks; it was nice that it was dark and they went without the suns rays to add to their grueling manual labor. A chill could be felt yet the full moon spread a layer of light over the dark ground, this tomb, was deeper than six feet. After ten feet, they reached the wooden coffin, it was not an exact rectangle but it looked more akin to a shape that wore a trim head and shoulders, all boarded with wood.
They hoisted it out of the whole, and it now lay above ground next to the dug up grave. Caira braced herself for the smell, or the expected sight of remains as she read the text engraved in the wood.
Here lies: ONLY DEATH
It was rather fitting, perhaps a dissuading notion considering they were in a graveyard but Caira couldn't help to gulp at the sense of foreboding that caught in her throat.
Caira’s eyes followed her "partner" suspiciously as Merik unbolted the nails of the coffin that had remained shut all those years he spent in the slammer. His eyes hinted at a guile notion behind as he lifted the pressed cover of the wooden coffin and asked for Caira’s help to pry open the last inch of the lid. "Give it a nudge."
At her touch, Caira felt herself being warped into the tomb, a portal like sensation sucked her body in, she was crammed inside, and horrifically enough, it was just her size. Somehow -magically-she had been knocked out by the compression of space and time, her eyelids shut and she grew immobilized but in the distance her ears picked up on the nails clacking and hammering in her fate.
Bastard.
After about ten minutes, she looked around in the dark dizzily and found the air to be stagnant and the smell of wood and dirt was both fragrant and pungent as the same dust clumping in her lungs. Merik continued nailing her shut, “I wasn’t lying you know,” he said with a sigh, as though he was being forced to trap her to her death. “The treasure is beneath your feet. However, it will take you some time to die and then venture the Dunes alone, coming back to retrieve it. And if you succeed, it is yours, let's just hope you don’t die of dehydration, or starvation on your way there first. You won't be able to conjure any food in there either. My apologies for such a slow death, I owe my life to you, after all.” His voice came through the wood with a smirking muffle, Caira’s body shuttered. Not only was she in her own grave, she had dug it herself. Had Caira tried to conjure food for herself, there was a force that repressed her from being able to do so and would have caused her to suffocate to death within the second, perhaps a second ‘bewitching’ to this jail.
Now defenseless, she hated the fact that technically Merik had kept his promise. He had taken her to the treasure, and buried her there. How close was she to Omni? Would Merik make it first? Banish her? The possibilities were endless. And the taste of failure was bitter on her tongue.
There were no words for her to speak to him, and he was disappointed to hear a lack of screaming. “Don’t you get it? You’re going to die.” There was a slight, “Humph,” as he seemed to want her to ask why. “Maybe you are dead already, you were a fresh prime after-all.” A small cackle could be heard at the end of his comment.
“Oh, I’m quite alive, Merik.” Caira spoke with confidence as she struggled not to make it sound as though she choked on the sand that began to slip in through the cracks above. “And I thank you for the treasure, you may assume I’ll use it well, but nothing will bring back the real treasures that you have lost. Your honor.” The taste of sand and spite could be heard on the repulsed edge of her words.
She heard him curse at her comment, her heart’s beat sent out vibrations as she analyzed an escape route and piles of sand grew heavier, securing her deep within the ground. Maintaining her composure, she resolved she would fight the coffin’s strange defenses after she had sensed him leave. Though this was not the time for her pride, yet for some reason, she felt as though she could afford it.
“Caira you really were quite foolish,” he shouted triumphantly through the piles of sand, and knowing some of her abilities, he knew she could hear him well, “To think that anything given doesn’t come with something taken.”
“So you took it into you’re own hands then? Instead of being a man?” she shouted, not bothering to conserve air. She couldn’t be sure her voice had been heard, but ten feet above her, Merik stood for a time on the freshly entrenched mixture of earth and sand looking wistfully down at his peer. “Those who have a meager sense of justice will abuse the same power all the more.” she remembered a phrase, rather an equation of probability, he had presumed evident in the human mind.
“Caira, there was one thing that struck me, back when I was a prisoner-” he began.
She interrupted smoothly, words becoming a fountain on her lips, “Yet you still are. What have you truly escaped by dumping me off here?”
He ignored her with a flexed eyebrow in agitation and his red eyes glinted down in her direction, “You recall, you were asking questions to that poor sap, but you knew, and I could tell this by the way you asked the questions that talking wouldn’t save him, and perhaps you knew this from your own experience which is why even now, you held back your words for a moment. Yet you still offer nothing in return for a freedom you have granted. To me, and to those you have given mercy to. For all you knew, there might have been a chance of sympathy for you even from me, as you so empathetically freed me. It was a debt to be reciprocated. Was.”
Caira stayed silent. Words never saved anyone, nor begging, nor screaming. Neither would help her to escape.
“Hah- even now. Well I don’t really mean to gloat, young one, but you have much to learn. Camelot soldier?" he spat, "Naive girls are sure not to make the same mistake twice! But, I hope you don’t mind if I keep the gift you gave me?” He gestured to the music player she could not see, shoe Caira had to assume Merik meant his freedom.
"If you're curious, Caira, this curse will never be broken.” he murmured under his breath and felt the pain of guilt weigh on his shoulders.
"Tch." the girl had no words as Merik walked away and Caira found herself, deserted in the dunes.
They hoisted it out of the whole, and it now lay above ground next to the dug up grave. Caira braced herself for the smell, or the expected sight of remains as she read the text engraved in the wood.
Here lies: ONLY DEATH
It was rather fitting, perhaps a dissuading notion considering they were in a graveyard but Caira couldn't help to gulp at the sense of foreboding that caught in her throat.
Caira’s eyes followed her "partner" suspiciously as Merik unbolted the nails of the coffin that had remained shut all those years he spent in the slammer. His eyes hinted at a guile notion behind as he lifted the pressed cover of the wooden coffin and asked for Caira’s help to pry open the last inch of the lid. "Give it a nudge."
At her touch, Caira felt herself being warped into the tomb, a portal like sensation sucked her body in, she was crammed inside, and horrifically enough, it was just her size. Somehow -magically-she had been knocked out by the compression of space and time, her eyelids shut and she grew immobilized but in the distance her ears picked up on the nails clacking and hammering in her fate.
Bastard.
After about ten minutes, she looked around in the dark dizzily and found the air to be stagnant and the smell of wood and dirt was both fragrant and pungent as the same dust clumping in her lungs. Merik continued nailing her shut, “I wasn’t lying you know,” he said with a sigh, as though he was being forced to trap her to her death. “The treasure is beneath your feet. However, it will take you some time to die and then venture the Dunes alone, coming back to retrieve it. And if you succeed, it is yours, let's just hope you don’t die of dehydration, or starvation on your way there first. You won't be able to conjure any food in there either. My apologies for such a slow death, I owe my life to you, after all.” His voice came through the wood with a smirking muffle, Caira’s body shuttered. Not only was she in her own grave, she had dug it herself. Had Caira tried to conjure food for herself, there was a force that repressed her from being able to do so and would have caused her to suffocate to death within the second, perhaps a second ‘bewitching’ to this jail.
Now defenseless, she hated the fact that technically Merik had kept his promise. He had taken her to the treasure, and buried her there. How close was she to Omni? Would Merik make it first? Banish her? The possibilities were endless. And the taste of failure was bitter on her tongue.
There were no words for her to speak to him, and he was disappointed to hear a lack of screaming. “Don’t you get it? You’re going to die.” There was a slight, “Humph,” as he seemed to want her to ask why. “Maybe you are dead already, you were a fresh prime after-all.” A small cackle could be heard at the end of his comment.
“Oh, I’m quite alive, Merik.” Caira spoke with confidence as she struggled not to make it sound as though she choked on the sand that began to slip in through the cracks above. “And I thank you for the treasure, you may assume I’ll use it well, but nothing will bring back the real treasures that you have lost. Your honor.” The taste of sand and spite could be heard on the repulsed edge of her words.
She heard him curse at her comment, her heart’s beat sent out vibrations as she analyzed an escape route and piles of sand grew heavier, securing her deep within the ground. Maintaining her composure, she resolved she would fight the coffin’s strange defenses after she had sensed him leave. Though this was not the time for her pride, yet for some reason, she felt as though she could afford it.
“Caira you really were quite foolish,” he shouted triumphantly through the piles of sand, and knowing some of her abilities, he knew she could hear him well, “To think that anything given doesn’t come with something taken.”
“So you took it into you’re own hands then? Instead of being a man?” she shouted, not bothering to conserve air. She couldn’t be sure her voice had been heard, but ten feet above her, Merik stood for a time on the freshly entrenched mixture of earth and sand looking wistfully down at his peer. “Those who have a meager sense of justice will abuse the same power all the more.” she remembered a phrase, rather an equation of probability, he had presumed evident in the human mind.
“Caira, there was one thing that struck me, back when I was a prisoner-” he began.
She interrupted smoothly, words becoming a fountain on her lips, “Yet you still are. What have you truly escaped by dumping me off here?”
He ignored her with a flexed eyebrow in agitation and his red eyes glinted down in her direction, “You recall, you were asking questions to that poor sap, but you knew, and I could tell this by the way you asked the questions that talking wouldn’t save him, and perhaps you knew this from your own experience which is why even now, you held back your words for a moment. Yet you still offer nothing in return for a freedom you have granted. To me, and to those you have given mercy to. For all you knew, there might have been a chance of sympathy for you even from me, as you so empathetically freed me. It was a debt to be reciprocated. Was.”
Caira stayed silent. Words never saved anyone, nor begging, nor screaming. Neither would help her to escape.
“Hah- even now. Well I don’t really mean to gloat, young one, but you have much to learn. Camelot soldier?" he spat, "Naive girls are sure not to make the same mistake twice! But, I hope you don’t mind if I keep the gift you gave me?” He gestured to the music player she could not see, shoe Caira had to assume Merik meant his freedom.
"If you're curious, Caira, this curse will never be broken.” he murmured under his breath and felt the pain of guilt weigh on his shoulders.
"Tch." the girl had no words as Merik walked away and Caira found herself, deserted in the dunes.
![[Image: mqdefault.jpg]](http://i.ytimg.com/vi/yEac52Ck_1A/mqdefault.jpg)