The blade was already at Naima’s throat when dawn broke
The blade was already at Naima’s throat when dawn broke. A low, guttural growl echoed through the sandstone chamber, the sunlight catching on the gold-dusted hilt of the assassin’s dagger. Her mind, sharp as ever, cataloged what had brought her to this moment—the betrayal, the pursuit through the desert, the secrets carved into ancient cryptic murals. And yet, here she stood, unyielding, her breath steady despite the cold kiss of the steel.
The assassin was clad in worn bone-etched leather, his face obscured by a veil soaked with the dusts of the Red Waste, but Naima stood out in stark contrast. Her cobalt linen tunic flowed to her knees, cinched by a belt adorned with silver coins from the Niger Empire. Her ochre trousers, tucked into calf-high leather boots, betrayed their wear from brambles and long walks across the savanna. Her Amazonian frame—a legacy of warrior mothers before her—stood proud, unbending even as her wrists trembled under the iron manacles behind her back.
“You’re learning, Khelun,” she said softly, her lips twisting into a bitter smile. “This is new for you—attacking your prey before sunrise. Your cowardice surprises me.”
The figure said nothing, his knuckles whitening as he pressed the blade closer. But Naima saw it, the fraction of hesitation in his posture. She laughed, defiant, the sound reverberating through the chamber’s pillars carved with spirals of runes—Saharan glyphs older than language itself.
“If you hadn’t gutted my people and chased me across these cursed sands, I’d almost respect you.” Her head tilted slightly, her beaded earrings brushing her strong jawline. “Almost.”
Shadows Buried Beneath
The chamber’s towering ceilings began to hum. Naima’s captor faltered for a breath. She had hoped for this moment. The ancient texts—scavenged from her village before the raiders torched it—spoke of a whispering power buried in this forgotten temple. Something willing to bargain with the desperate.
“What did you do?” Khelun growled, his voice finally breaking the silence. His accent still carried traces of the coastal cities, places he’d abandoned for gold and blood.
“I woke them,” Naima said, her tone calm but resolute. “You think you’ve trapped me, but there is something slumbering here far older than your ambition, Khelun.”
A cascade of sand slipped through a crack in the walls. The hum deepened, resonating through the stone. Glyphs began to glow faintly, pale blue light tracing their curves like veins awakening after centuries lying still.
Naima leaned forward until her forehead nearly grazed the assassin’s veiled face. “Now, release me, or we both suffer the consequences.”
The Bargain
Khelun hesitated, his fingers trembling, but before he could decide, the chamber erupted in a soundless roar. The sand at their feet shifted, drawing itself upward in a whirl until it coalesced into a towering figure—a golem of obsidian and quartz, its body inconstant, shifting like liquid glass under desert sun.
Two dim sapphires sat in the creature’s head, scanning the two intruders as a voice older than the Nile thundered inside their minds. “WHO AMONG YOU DARES DISTURB MY REST?”
Khelun dropped his dagger and stumbled backward. “This wasn’t me—it’s her!” He jabbed a finger toward Naima, the cowardice exposing itself fully now. Naima smirked despite the throbbing pulse of fear within her.
“It was me,” she said, stepping forward, chains rattling. Her voice unwavering, her gaze locked on the golem’s glowing blue eyes. “Your temple has been defiled and desecrated. I demand vengeance—not for me, but for my people.”
The golem was silent for several agonizing moments. Then, its great head turned toward Khelun. The assassin stumbled again, falling to his knees as the creature loomed over him.
“WHAT IS YOUR OFFERING?” the voice boomed.
Khelun, unable to string together coherent words, stammered and clutched at the sand in disbelief. Naima, however, stood tall, her cobalt tunic catching the pale glow of the glyphs. “Take him. Spare me, and I will dedicate my life to restoring your temple—to making it sacred once more.”
The golem considered her words. Its glowing eyes flickered before nodding, a sound like grinding stones reverberating through the chamber. “AGREED.”
Naima watched, unflinching, as the relic-bound sentinel reached toward Khelun with an obsidian hand, engulfing him in an eerie light. The assassin screamed—briefly—and then was gone, a trail of dust marking where he had knelt. The golem turned to Naima, its frame softening like melting glass.
“KEEP YOUR WORD, DAUGHTER OF THE SAVANNA,” it rumbled. Then, it sank back into the sand as quickly as it had risen. The chamber fell silent save for the faint murmur of wind slipping through its cracks.
A New Dawn
As Naima emerged from the temple just before midday, the desert stretched boundless before her. In her hands, she now held the sacred relic Khelun had chased her across the sands for—a jade amulet engraved with unreadable runes pulsing with power.
She looked down at the amulet, her cobalt tunic rippling lightly in the breeze, and whispered to herself, “For my people.” Then, she started walking east, toward the ruins of her village, with purpose and vengeance in her heart.
It would be a long journey to reclaim all that had been lost, but Naima, the last daughter of her lineage, would endure.
Genre: Dark Fantasy/Adventure
The Source...check out the great article that inspired this amazing short story: Breville BES870XL Barista Express Espresso Machine Review: How to Use Guide
Disclaimer: This article may contain affiliate links. If you click on these links and make a purchase, we may receive a commission at no additional cost to you. Our recommendations and reviews are always independent and objective, aiming to provide you with the best information and resources.
Get Exclusive Stories, Photos, Art & Offers - Subscribe Today!
Post Comment
You must be logged in to post a comment.