“Geoffrey, I have found another one,” Erys called from across the dig sight. The lean archaeologist stood up and ran her thumb across the stone. Round, and smooth, it sat in the palm of her hand, smooth imagery depicting a crescent, wrapped around a circle had been carved into its face. She had not seen one like this yet.
Geoffrey marched across the site, he hopped over a ditch and rounded a boulder at the centre. The crew of ten Mes Leonirian archaeologists had stopped work and slowly meandered toward the young woman who held the rune stone.
Erys handed it to the man and Geoffrey took out his looking glass. A steel disk, a little bigger than a man’s hand with a magnifying class set at its middle. “I have never seen this rune before,” he said.
The crowd murmured and nodded their heads. The dig sight, some sixty leagues north of Stena had been filled with these things. The sight of a High Elven tower during the immortal age, the budding historians had expected to find swords, gleaming armour and beautiful artwork. But, amidst the rocks, all they had found was more rocks.
“Put it with the others,” Erys said.
Geoffrey nodded as he wiped the rune stone on his cloak. His brow furrowed as he looked at it and turned away as the group went back to their work.
They had a pile of them, thirty, maybe more. The rune of fire, stone, water, wind, strength, sleep, longevity, life and even beer. They were dwarven relics, and their purpose seemed purely ornamental. “Maybe we can sell them,” Geoffrey called as he walked.
Erys laughed. “Perhaps, but they belong to the university now. They will probably release them once–” Erys trailed off and she dropped her pick onto the dusty ground.
The entire dig sight went silent as they looked to Geoffrey who stood over the pile of rune stones. All now glowed. Reds, greens, blues, purples, they lit up like a Summer’s End festival night.
“What is –” Geoffrey started but was cut off by a flash of light. Out of the pile it curved, like a fat, luminous serpent, then spread itself like frayed leather. The lights danced across the dusty ground, assailing the archaeologists. They turned to run, but as the light streaks hit them, they fell to the ground.
Silent as they grave they fell. Erys ran, her hips swayed and her arms pounded. Tears welled in her eyes. She did not want to die, were they dead? A read serpentine light streak coiled itself around her leg. She shrieked. It wrapped itself around her body before working its way into her screaming mouth. As it did, her vision faded to black.
Thanks a lot for reading,
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