In a time, long forgotten, there was an established fact… anyone who dared cross the desert without a shaman or a talisman from one, would without a doubt, fall prey to the lurking spirits who laid in wait for the darers…
A humble peddler who had recently recovered from an accident was so eager to be on the move again that he forgot to visit the shaman before heading out
When he was a great distance from his town, he remembered… but he was already half a day’s journey away and knew his family needed him to make some money soon… so he carried on
By nightfall, he had not crossed the desert and decided that it was better for him to set up camp before he got caught in a quick sandpit or the other numerous fears that were starting to pile up inside his head
Sitting inside his tent, with his eyes and ears on high alert… he waited for the odd night to pass by…
He waited and waited… and waited, for hours and hours and hours without end. The more time passed him by in his little tent, the more certain he was of it…
He pulled out a large club he traveled with to protect himself from bandits and prepared to do battle against whatever force was outside…
He took a deep breath and exhaled before jumping out of the tent hoping to get the element of surprise… but the joke was on him…
He was no longer in the desert but… in an oasis…
They were beautiful women lined up from one end to the other with drinks and lots of food.
The peddler was extremely happy, he wasn’t alone after all… So he ran to join them… but was stopped.
They told him that he had to go up the hill and pay tribute to their leader first and after that, he would be welcomed to partake in their fun… they even happily told him to hurry…
The peddler, seeing his price in front of him, quickly agreed and climbed up the hill as fast as he could…
On getting there, he saw a large black box… it felt off… he was scared… but then the fun sounds from the crowd were edging him on… he stepped forward slowly and put his hand on the box…
It reacted and vibrated vigorously. He quickly jumped back as the box opened up slowly…
The peddler’s face lightened up as the wildest of his suspicions came true… he had without a doubt, found a “blacksmith’s” box… and once again, a weapon built for destruction and conflicts, desiring only the blood of the guilty, had found the soul of an innocent brave man to consume…
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Wow! What an amazing story. I can’t wait to read the remaining story, please upload the rest soon.
Thanks for the comment… I’ll write a sequel to this one day