Pushing her hand against the dimly lit walls of the narrow stairway, Kaelis guided herself down the final step and onto the floor below. She pressed her boot into soft earth and peered into the dark. Squinting, she could just make out the faintest hints of a compact chamber, its smooth stone walls barely illuminated by Sheah’s approaching torchlight.

  As her companion grew closer, Kaelis began to discern the contours of the room. It was a cold, stony space—a mausoleum, from the looks of it, with a low ceiling and five shallow alcoves jutting from a central hub like a star. Vertically recessed into the walls were a series of carved sarcophagi, covered in faded writings and artistic motifs echoing those of the temple above. Ribbed between the coffins were rows upon rows of darkened shelves.

  Kaelis studied the room from a distance, bouncing with delight. “Ooh, yeah, it’s a tomb alright,” she beamed.

  “Is it safe?” asked Sheah, slowly approaching from behind.

  Kaelis examined the ground, making note of the lack of Unbound prints in the dirt. “Yep,” she decided, slinging her rifle over her shoulder.

  As Sheah arrived beside Kaelis, she raised her torch, illuminating the chamber in its entirety. “Goodness me…” she gasped, staring in awe at the sight before her.

  “Oh, wow…” whispered Kaelis. The bright torchlight cut through the shadow of the shelves, revealing them to be jam-packed with innumerable treasures, all glinting enticingly in the light. It was a veritable buffet of artifacts and loot: scattered coins of the pre-empire, jewelry laced with gemstones, ceremonial tablets, weaponry, ceramics, statuettes—all of it in as fine a condition as one could ever dream.

  “Aha! Look at all the relics!” Sheah rhapsodically cheered. Placing her torch in an empty candelabra, she rushed over to the wall, passing over each shelf with glee, carefully admiring every object. “This is truly a jackpot,” she sang as she began freely stuffing her bags.

  Kaelis walked past the shelves of treasure, opting instead to wander the tomb and study its features further. She analyzed the layout of the room, taking note of how the bodies within it weren’t just buried so much as they were presented. There was a certain reverence to it all—it felt less like a catacomb and more like a memorial, the final resting place for heroes of old. Approaching one of the sarcophagi, Kaelis could see large runes carved into its lid, the edges of the symbols worn and weathered but still somewhat legible. She quivered excitedly as she realized what it implied.

  “These were important people,” Kaelis softly mused.

  “Hm? What was that?” said Sheah from across the room, forcing closed the first of her two bags.

  “The people buried here. Look at the way the coffins are staged. And see this written on the lids? It’s Angelic script! The first peoples reserved that honor only for the most respected members of their communities.” Kaelis eagerly ran her fingers down the carvings, speculating all the while. “I think these guys musta been high officials of some sort. Ooh, if they were old enough, a few might’ve even been part of the exodus from Ama-Lasria. Oh, do you think they were servants of the God King?! Wait, no, I’m getting ahead of myself. Point is, this isn’t just a normal tomb.”

  Sheah waved her hand about, her attention occupied by her rummaging. “Yes, well, whomever they were, they had plenty to go around. Grab what you can.”

  “Yeah, fine,” said Kaelis with a flippant shrug. Meandering down the row of shelves, she began stuffing her pouches with whatever appeared most historically interesting, namely specimens of bespoke weaponry and small, personalized keepsakes.

  With room in her pouch for one more item, she turned her attention to the central alcove. Positioned at its far end was a sarcophagus grander and more densely detailed than any other in the room. Its lid had cracked and collapsed slightly under its own overzealous weight, exposing its contents to the air. Spilling from the opening were the skeletal remains of an ancient soldier, who lay slumped face-first along the ground.

  “Aw,” said Kaelis. She crouched down, looking over the body with saddened veneration. The corpse was swaddled in modest scale armor and clothes dyed in plain red tones—hardly befitting a person with such a reverential burial. Whoever they were, they’d been both widely respected and chose to live a life unburdened by material wealth. And a person like that didn’t deserve to be sprawled out on the ground in such an undignified fashion.

  “Let’s get you back in there,” said Kaelis. With the most delicate hand, she grabbed the corpse by the shoulders and tugged the body upward ever so gently. Unsurprisingly, the body’s head hung forward as she lifted, threatening to detach at any moment. With a nervous moan, she promptly lowered the body back onto the ground and sighed—it was probably better to leave them in that position, rather than risk any further damage.

  As Kaelis moved to stand and resume her inspection of the tomb, something caught her eye, dislodged from underneath the body. There was an object there, small and flat, tucked under the torso. Overwhelmed with curiosity, she leaned in to investigate.

  Clasped in the corpse’s bony hand, gripped against its chest, was a book: a simple thing, bound in dark leather and warped with use, remarkably preserved by the stillness of the tomb. Reaching in with the utmost care, Kaelis separated the book from the body, making sure not to disturb its owner further. She raised it into the dim light and gave it a once-over, running her fingers delicately down its binding. The book was small and slight, no larger than her hand, the Ama-Lasrian sigil branded into its cover. Despite its great age, it felt shockingly sturdy—a marvel of quality craftsmanship.

  The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

  Peeling the book open, Kaelis gently flipped through its pages. It was nearly impossible to parse its contents through the dim torchlight, but she was able to make out the globs of inky shapes written on the paper. The blocks of text were neatly formatted and structured, with each page containing a separate entry, all written out by hand. Kaelis cocked her head keenly—it was a journal.

  “Hey, Boss,” said Kaelis, turning to get Sheah’s attention.

  Sheah, her second bag filled to the brim, was attempting to stuff in one last relic: a flat, golden prayer tablet with emeralds and sapphires embroidered along its frame. “Mph—Yes?” she said, trying and failing to squeeze in the final item. “Did you find som—” Before she could finish, a stream of static hissed through her pocket radio. “Oh, just a moment.” She removed the device from her coat.

  Jira’s voice buzzed through the receiver. “—eah. Sheah, come in.”

  “I am here, Captain,” said Sheah. “Wonderful news! We have discovered the motherlode. We are nearly set to return, all we need is a few more—”

  “No time,” said Jira. “We have Unbound chatter outside, and it’s getting closer. Sounds like a big one.”

  “Oh,” said Sheah, her smile fading. “Oh dear. Um, how much time do you estimate we have?”

  “Ten, twelve minutes, tops.”

  “Okay. Um, roger that, Captain,” said Sheah, looking around the chamber antsily. “We shall wrap up and reconvene posthaste. Out.” She pocketed her radio and, tablet still in hand, marched over to collect her companion. “Kaelis, did you hear? It is time to go.”

  “Ah, we still got a few minutes,” shrugged Kaelis. She stood and excitedly presented the journal. “Take a look at this, Boss.”

  “That’s great,” stated Sheah, frantically glancing towards the exit. “Are your pouches full?”

  “Almost. And I just found my last thing.” Kaelis gestured to the book, waving it in Sheah’s face. “Check it out. This is this guy’s journal! Imagine what it could reveal about life back then!”

  Sheah rubbed her temple, her stress visibly growing. “That is very nice, but some old diary isn’t going to pay.” She looked at the golden slab in her hand and brought it up to the old book, comparing their sizes. They appeared roughly the same. “Look, we have been through this: we are only after high value artifacts, nothing more.” With a firm hand she ripped the journal from Kaelis’s grip and thrust the tablet into its place. “Take this instead, we need to move.”

  Kaelis pawed after the book. “Hey, what? Hold on. Can’t we just make another trip?”

  “No. There is no time,” said Sheah. “The Unbound are coming, and I refuse to let them steal another haul from us. This run must be a success. And if we spread out the bounty, the better chance it will be. Now, let’s move.” She swiveled around and huffed towards the exit.

  “Wait a minute,” said Kaelis.

  Sheah stopped in her tracks and spun back, an agitated look on her face.

  “Why can’t we just come back tomorrow?”

  “I have explained this,” said Sheah. “The client said—”

  “Yeah, yeah, I know. But they can’t be in that big of a rush. And the history here is—”

  “Enough about history!” Sheah snapped, her patience at its end. “Enough. Please. I do not care if you found King… Kingsley’s long-lost chamberpot. I am trying to run a successful business here, and I cannot do that with you constantly amassing these worthless trinkets.”

  “Worthless?” gasped Kaelis. “Worthless?!” She felt her temperature rise, stewing with indignation. “Uh, well, first of all, they’re not. And second, that journal—”

  “I do not want to hear it. This thing will fetch us no more than sixty saebles from a third-rate museum, that I guarantee you.”

  “You don’t know what you’re talkin’ about,” Kaelis hit back. “I was on the New Tradition for years, and we had tons of success going after these kinds of relics.”

  “Yes, well, you aren’t with the New Tradition anymore, are you?”

  Kaelis glanced at the ground. “…No.”

  “Indeed. Whatever past accomplishments you may have had does not change the fact that there is little profit to be made with a single hoary book.”

  “But just because you think a relic looks cheap doesn’t mean it is!” Kaelis argued, raising her voice. “This could be a great find!”

  “Stop. I refuse to take that risk again,” Sheah steamed. “That gold tablet could net us upwards of twenty thousand saebles. Twenty thousand, and that is just from its material value alone. By itself it could keep this company running for months! You do wish to continue being paid, do you not?” She threw the journal onto the ground beside the body. “So take the treasure, forget the book. That is an order. This is not up for debate.” With that, she turned and bitterly stomped towards the stairway.

  Kaelis looked down at the discarded journal, aghast at its treatment. Crouching, she picked the book off the ground and gently shook the dust from its cover, all while preparing a real humdinger of an insult for Sheah—something about being a prissy little rich girl who couldn’t appreciate something unless it was covered in jewels. Yeah, that would do.

  “Well, I guess a prissy…” Kaelis glanced up, only to notice that Sheah was long gone. “…Whatever,” she grumbled. Owner or not, she wasn’t about to let Sheah boss her around like that. She looked between the objects in her hands, her choice already made. Dropping the golden tablet onto the ground, she defiantly stuffed the journal into her back pouch.

  Unslinging her rifle from her shoulder, Kaelis gripped her gun and moved towards the stairs, collecting the torch from its holder along the way. As she placed her foot on the first step, she paused and turned, taking one more look at the tomb—it was doubtful she’d ever return to this hallowed place again. She soaked it all in, one last time, before running up the stairs, the light of her torch fading from the chamber’s solemn walls, and the smattering of dusty footprints littering the ground.