The steel train carriage rocked and juddered back and forth as Christel sat against a crate and stared into space over the spreading sea of sand – the Morroak Desert was always nice this time of day. Soon they would cross the Sandra River, and they would be in Taellian territory. He turned his head and observed from afar the necklace that his partner held in her hands.
“So are you going to tell me your name?” he asked casually.
She turned her eyes from the small band of jewels and glanced at him. “Hazel.”
As she said it, Christel caught a shimmer of hazel light around her blue eyes. “Hazel,” he said the name out loud, as if he were pondering it, “that’s a nice name. I’m Christel, it’s a pleasure to meet you, you know, without you aiming a sword at my neck, or handcuffing me to a double-bed.”
Hazel smiled, but Christel could see it in her eye – she still didn’t trust him. She held her diamonds close, and he understood. He was a thief, and she was a thief, and they’d be stupid if they did trust each other. Hell, an hour ago she handcuffed him to a bed and left him to perish. She enclosed the necklace in her hands. “So how did you come onto this treasure anyway?” she asked.
“A friend of a friend. We worked together a while ago when I traded her the Ariana paintings.”
Hazel thought for a moment. “I remember those,” she said. “You did that?”
Christel nodded and smiled – it wasn’t often that he was recognised for his work. “In return my accomplice handed me the fake copies, which I generously left for the Taellians to find.”
“It’s an impressive story,” Hazel interrupted, “if that’s what you’re going for, but what does it have to do with the treasure?”
“Well, my friend of a friend told me that the person who originally owned the paintings, a rich guy named Garn Pallerii, had oddly and secretly come into a great deal of money after returning from an excavation in the Northern Peaks.”
“How do you know he’s keeping it a secret?”
“Because,” he explained vividly, “I did some digging of my own, and the people who found the treasure were killed right after, when a mining shaft collapsed.”
“So, it was an accident.”
“That’s not all,” he continued. “My, uh, friend of a friend, was murdered right after she sent me this…” Christel pulled out a drawing from his back pocket and handed it to Hazel.
It was incredibly detailed down to the lead shading. In her left hand, on the crumpled tanned paper, was a drawing of the very necklace she held in her other – the massive red jewel in the centre fluttered in the light as she compared the two. When she turned the drawing over she found a note – find the treasure! It was all detailed, and she knew that he had to be telling the truth. Suddenly Hazel pitied him – becoming a thief was a lonely decision to make and for people like her losing a friend was a hard burden to bear. With that in mind, she placed the necklace and paper in the same hand and gave them to Christel. “I’m sorry about your friend. Here.”
He didn’t say anything – just looked her in the eyes and accepted them. This was the first time he was able to properly examine the necklace, and he examined it thoroughly, but he didn’t actually know what he was looking for. He only knew that somehow it was connected to Garn Pallerii.
The train rattled on, and in the sea of desert, the Sandra River rapidly appeared. Sparkling crystals shimmered blue as the water meandered away, engulfed by the red horizon. Hazel watched Christel curiously as he played with each diamond on the necklace. He was sure that the puzzle had something to do with the centre gem, but as he stared at the red emerald, his mind went blank. What was he supposed to do? They were silent for a while, a long time, actually. Christel thought, and thought, and then it hit him! There were markings, but they were etched inside the emerald. How?
Christel held the necklace up towards the sun and Hazel saw red light projected onto his body. There was definitely something inside this emerald, and the light gave Christel an idea. Hazel didn’t have a clue what he was getting at. “Do you actually know what you are doing with that thing?” She shot him a smug expression.
Christel returned her glare. “I have an idea, but you’re not going to like it.”
“What are –” Hazel stopped herself as Christel took the necklace in his hand and smashed it forcefully against one of the crates behind him. The centre emerald shattered into tiny pieces and flew about the carriage.
“What the hell are you doing?” Hazel shouted – her heart likely shattering along with the emerald.
Christel gestured for her to stay back as he witnessed her sweet face turn red with anger. “Ok, calm down. Before you try to kill me again, I know exactly what I’m doing.”
“That necklace was priceless!”
He quickly collected the smaller gem that was inside – its markings were now very distinct, and he collected a lantern from above the pile of crates. “See,” he said steadily, rigging the little stone up before starting a light. The flame’s glow passed easily through the small gem, and projected something onto the far wall, but there was too much light to see it.
“If you would, please,” and he gestured towards the opened carriage door. Hazel moved and slid it shut, and then everything went dark, save for the pattern painted by light onto the wall.
“What is it?” Hazel asked, more or less to herself. She had forgotten her anger.
“It looks like a map,” he guessed, squinting as he tried to place what he was looking at. Lines ran in boxes and zigzags, there might have been a word at the top of the projection but it was undistinguishable, and the entire projection flickered with the flame, making it harder to read. They stared in silence.
“I… I know this place!” Hazel finally exclaimed, jumping with mild excitement.
“What, from where?” he was still raking his memory.
“See how these lines are double in the middle, and dotted here,” she pointed to the places on the wall. “They’re schematics, blueprints. This is the treasury of Taelliwey. The Piae Tovuus.”
Christel finally saw it. She was right – they were schematics, but the Piae Tovuus? Just from general knowledge Christel knew how serious that place was. He looked Hazel directly in the eye, standing close to her.
“You know what this means then?” His voice was steady as he accepted what he was about to do.
Hazel had a fire in her eyes now, as if she had picked up the scent of gold. “We’re about to rob the richest place in all of Noveria.”Chapter 12 – An Exciting Discovery
The steel train carriage rocked and juddered back and forth as Christel sat against a crate and stared into space over the spreading sea of sand – the Morroak Desert was always nice this time of day. Soon they would cross the Sandra River, and they would be in Taellian territory. He turned his head and observed from afar the necklace that his partner held in her hands.
“So are you going to tell me your name?” he asked casually.
She turned her eyes from the small band of jewels and glanced at him. “Hazel.”
As she said it, Christel caught a shimmer of hazel light around her blue eyes. “Hazel,” he said the name out loud, as if he were pondering it, “that’s a nice name. I’m Christel, it’s a pleasure to meet you, you know, without you aiming a sword at my neck, or handcuffing me to a double-bed.”
Hazel smiled, but Christel could see it in her eye – she still didn’t trust him. She held her diamonds close, and he understood. He was a thief, and she was a thief, and they’d be stupid if they did trust each other. Hell, an hour ago she handcuffed him to a bed and left him to perish. She enclosed the necklace in her hands. “So how did you come onto this treasure anyway?” she asked.
“A friend of a friend. We worked together a while ago when I traded her the Ariana paintings.”
Hazel thought for a moment. “I remember those,” she said. “You did that?”
Christel nodded and smiled – it wasn’t often that he was recognised for his work. “In return my accomplice handed me the fake copies, which I generously left for the Taellians to find.”
“It’s an impressive story,” Hazel interrupted, “if that’s what you’re going for, but what does it have to do with the treasure?”
“Well, my friend of a friend told me that the person who originally owned the paintings, a rich guy named Garn Pallerii, had oddly and secretly come into a great deal of money after returning from an excavation in the Northern Peaks.”
“How do you know he’s keeping it a secret?”
“Because,” he explained vividly, “I did some digging of my own, and the people who found the treasure were killed right after, when a mining shaft collapsed.”
“So, it was an accident.”
“That’s not all,” he continued. “My, uh, friend of a friend, was murdered right after she sent me this…” Christel pulled out a drawing from his back pocket and handed it to Hazel.
It was incredibly detailed down to the lead shading. In her left hand, on the crumpled tanned paper, was a drawing of the very necklace she held in her other – the massive red jewel in the centre fluttered in the light as she compared the two. When she turned the drawing over she found a note – find the treasure! It was all detailed, and she knew that he had to be telling the truth. Suddenly Hazel pitied him – becoming a thief was a lonely decision to make and for people like her losing a friend was a hard burden to bear. With that in mind, she placed the necklace and paper in the same hand and gave them to Christel. “I’m sorry about your friend. Here.”
He didn’t say anything – just looked her in the eyes and accepted them. This was the first time he was able to properly examine the necklace, and he examined it thoroughly, but he didn’t actually know what he was looking for. He only knew that somehow it was connected to Garn Pallerii.
The train rattled on, and in the sea of desert, the Sandra River rapidly appeared. Sparkling crystals shimmered blue as the water meandered away, engulfed by the red horizon. Hazel watched Christel curiously as he played with each diamond on the necklace. He was sure that the puzzle had something to do with the centre gem, but as he stared at the red emerald, his mind went blank. What was he supposed to do? They were silent for a while, a long time, actually. Christel thought, and thought, and then it hit him! There were markings, but they were etched inside the emerald. How?
Christel held the necklace up towards the sun and Hazel saw red light projected onto his body. There was definitely something inside this emerald, and the light gave Christel an idea. Hazel didn’t have a clue what he was getting at. “Do you actually know what you are doing with that thing?” She shot him a smug expression.
Christel returned her glare. “I have an idea, but you’re not going to like it.”
“What are –” Hazel stopped herself as Christel took the necklace in his hand and smashed it forcefully against one of the crates behind him. The centre emerald shattered into tiny pieces and flew about the carriage.
“What the hell are you doing?” Hazel shouted – her heart likely shattering along with the emerald.
Christel gestured for her to stay back as he witnessed her sweet face turn red with anger. “Ok, calm down. Before you try to kill me again, I know exactly what I’m doing.”
“That necklace was priceless!”
He quickly collected the smaller gem that was inside – its markings were now very distinct, and he collected a lantern from above the pile of crates. “See,” he said steadily, rigging the little stone up before starting a light. The flame’s glow passed easily through the small gem, and projected something onto the far wall, but there was too much light to see it.
“If you would, please,” and he gestured towards the opened carriage door. Hazel moved and slid it shut, and then everything went dark, save for the pattern painted by light onto the wall.
“What is it?” Hazel asked, more or less to herself. She had forgotten her anger.
“It looks like a map,” he guessed, squinting as he tried to place what he was looking at. Lines ran in boxes and zigzags, there might have been a word at the top of the projection but it was undistinguishable, and the entire projection flickered with the flame, making it harder to read. They stared in silence.
“I… I know this place!” Hazel finally exclaimed, jumping with mild excitement.
“What, from where?” he was still raking his memory.
“See how these lines are double in the middle, and dotted here,” she pointed to the places on the wall. “They’re schematics, blueprints. This is the treasury of Taelliwey. The Piae Tovuus.”
Christel finally saw it. She was right – they were schematics, but the Piae Tovuus? Just from general knowledge Christel knew how serious that place was. He looked Hazel directly in the eye, standing close to her.
“You know what this means then?” His voice was steady as he accepted what he was about to do.
Hazel had a fire in her eyes now, as if she had picked up the scent of gold. “We’re about to rob the richest place in all of Noveria.”
ns 172.70.174.17da2
