Forums Coolval Family (drama) FORGOTTEN SANDS ( A Short Story)

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  • #1134924 Reply
    • "Posts"18941
    • β˜†β˜†β˜†β˜†β˜†

    waiting patiently

    #1134943 Reply
    • "Posts"18941
    • β˜†β˜†β˜†β˜†β˜†

    am here….. Ride on

    #1135005 Reply
    damaris eze
    • "Posts"4469
    • β˜†β˜†β˜†

    oya continue

    #1135117 Reply
    • "Posts"7998
    • β˜†β˜†β˜†β˜†

    Right here… Ride on

    #1135245 Reply
    • "Posts"2527
    • β˜†β˜†

    Hope am not late? Is there still space 4 me 2 sit down?

    #1135294 Reply
    • "Posts"5035
    • β˜†β˜†β˜†

    This looks thrilling

    #1135332 Reply
    • "Posts"3499
    • β˜†β˜†β˜†

    Right on time… please my name is @Lonewolf05, @holuwaseyi belongs to someone else.

    #1135339 Reply
    Ifeoma Isabella okeke
    • "Posts"502
    • β˜†β˜†

    Chapter 2

    “Do you speak Arabic?” Lera asked hopefully “Or English?” She wasn’t very good at English since she’d never gone to school, but she’d picked up enough from the various researchers who were perpetually in the area to make herself understood.

    The dark man frowned, murmuring something to himself, then gestured somewhat imperiously towards Lera and spoke again in that strange language. Lera shook her head, “I don’t understand”. With a faint sound that could have been a growl, the man took several steps forward and gestured at Lera’s clothes. “Dirty”.

    Lera blinked. “You do speak Arabic!” Then what the man said registered. “I’ve been digging in the sand to find this temple, of course I’m dirty”.

    The man scowled, apparently affronted by this, and looked Lera over slowly. In the dim light, now that the torch was not shinning directly on him, he was nearly invisible in the darkness. The only spot of color on him was that of his eyes, shining a soft gold and almost appearing to glow. Unnerved, Lera looked away.

    He had to be a lost tribesman of some sort. That would explain his clothing, or lack there of, and his strange language since she had gotten here in the first place remained a mystery.

    Abruptly the man spoke again, fluid syllables flowing off his tongue and he gestured sharply at Lera before turning and striding from the room. Feeling a little lost, but with nothing better to do, Lera jogged to catch up with him.

    The dark man led them through the twists and turns of the temple, into what might have once been a kind of courtyard in its prime. The far end, however, disappeared into a wave of sand, and the way the dark man drew up short killed Lera’s hope that perhaps he might know another way out.

    Although Lera didn’t understand the words the man spit out, the meaning behind them was pretty clear. Swear words were pretty universal, really.

    Done swearing at the sand, the dark man looked toward Lera, eyes doing that strange trick of the light again. “You came how?”

    Lera rubbed the back of her head. “Er, I fell”.

    The dark man looked puzzled, so Lera gestured and led the way back to the room with hole in the ceiling, pointing up. “I fell through there”.

    “Saaaaaa……” the dark man said softly.

    “Yeah”. Lera grimaced. “And I doubt anyone will bother to come looking for me, so unless you happen to know another way out, we’re probably going to die here”. She only had enough water for one day, and that only for one person, after all. She was going to die of thrist in the most important find of her life, with a lost tribesman for company.

    So lost in her own morbid thoughts she was that when the dark man spoke again, Lera jumped.

    “Do you wish for death?”

    Lera frowned, then shook her head. “No, of course not. There’s still so much I want to do with my life”.

    The dark man regarded her thoughtfully, then tipped his head up to eye the hole in the ceiling. Lera followed his gaze, though it still look as it had since she’d fallen through, only the angle of the sun had changed. It was getten late, and night would fall soon. “Come”, the dark man said abruptly. “Into the temple we must go. A storm comes”.

    “A storm?” Lera repeated, scanning the sky across the hole again. Still no change.

    “Can you not hear it?” the man asked, already heading for the inner chambers.

    Although Lera listened carefully, she could hear nothing out of the ordinary. Still she didn’t particularly wish to be caught in a sand storm. Death by suffocation was bound to be even more unpleasant than death by dehydration. So she checked to make certain she wasn’t leaving anything behind, and jogged to catch up with her mysterious companion.

    The dark man was waiting for her at the first turn, and they traversed the rooms in silence save for the soft patter of their footsteps. They stopped in the inner alter room, though the dark man did not go behind the curtains. Instead, he sat down upon the floor with a great deal more grace than Lera was capable of, leaning his back against the wall and closing his eyes. After a moment Lera followed suit, wiggling to get comfortable, unable to find a spot on the hard stone. At last she bunched her pack up, and used it as a pillow, settling down with a quite sigh.

    Barring a miracle, she would probably never see her family again. In a couple of days the desert would take her to its collection of dead. Maybe in another thousand years someone would find this temple and also find her dried body and wonder who she’d been.

    As the darkness of sleep finally began to overtake her, she could just barely hear the faint sound of whistling wind from far away, muffled by the thick stone walls. It seemed the dark man’s storm had come after all.

    To Be Continue……….

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