“What do you think the treasure is?”
“I don’t know. Maybe it’s a hoard of jewels!”
“Emeralds, sapphires, aquamarines and rubies would be my favourite gift!”
“A ring of perfect pearls…”
As the desert sun baked the cracked, dry earth the two companions skipped excitedly through the sand, they sipped their first drops of water from their leather flasks. The sun showed no mercy, and beat down relentlessly but nevertheless, the two children continued on.
They belonged to a desert clan, who had learnt the ways of how to survive in the desolate place. Not to drink too much water, that was the trick. It would only make you thirstier, and thirstier, and thirstier. There were also three strict rules in the village, and here they are:
1.Never stray from the village.
2.Never waste the water.
3.And never, ever try to find the mysterious long lost treasure that nobody has seen but everyone wants to have.
Well, when everyone was small, they were never told the third rule, as all the adults of the village knew there children would be gripped by the idea, and the next morning they would find beds empty, food and drink missing and footprints leading to the west. You see, the place of the treasure was hidden in a mysterious riddle, which went like this:
When you walk west in the sun-baked land,
Fear for your life when the water turns to sand.
When you reach the seat of the sun,
A tower of sand will be spun.
When you drink from the valley of the snake,
Hope it’s a dream that you shall shall wake.
When you have no friends left to call,
Maybe be you shouldn’t have left, after all.
Well, one day, Ali and Tom heard the riddle. They were both very young children, and so they were gripped by the idea that they could own a precious treasure. And so, the next morning, their beds were empty, food and drink were missing and there were footprints leading to the west…
By now, Ali and Tom had been walking for hours in the blistering heat. 10 flasks of water hung at their sides, and it weighed them down on every step they took. Their parchment containing the riddle was safely rolled up and had been fitted under Tom’s belt. He was the more organised one, after all.
Ali was complaining. “Why do we have to be in the desert?”she muttered, kicking at the sand piling up at her feet.
“Well, that’s hardly my fault, is it?” Tom spat at the ground, watching his saliva soak into the earth. And he immediately regretted it. The moisture had been in his mouth for the past 30 minutes, and it soothed him. Now, his mouth was as dry as the sand. In fact, it was hard to believe it actually was the sand, lying at the back of his throat. He reached for his one of his 5 flasks of water. Tom pulled out the cork, sat the leather to his lips and was about to take a giant gulp when he decided better of it.
When you walk west in the sun-baked land,
Fear for your life when the water turns to sand.
That was the first verse. At the time, it made no sense to him. How did water turn to sand? But maybe it was hidden in its meaning. Maybe it didn’t mean what it said. Maybe it meant that he’d lose his water! That was a frightening thought. All forms of life needed water: plants did, cattle did, and most importantly, they did. So Tom just took a little sip, and slung it back under his belt.
An hour later, the sun was higher than ever, and the unquenchable thirst had developed. 2 flasks were already lying in the sand, meters behind them; one was Ali’s, one was Tom’s.
Soon the heat was unbearable, and the pair finally understood they tended to stay in the shade at noon, back at the village. Their flasks were still by their sides though, so they were safe. Ali was about to take a drink, but to her horror, the water had all evaporated. only a few small drops clung to the sides of the leather, and in the light of the sun, it looked just like the sand on the desert floor.
“Tom! Look!”She thrust her flask at Tom, and he saw her empty flask. Tom gasped. He quickly checked his own flasks, and he almost cried in despair when he saw that they were the same.
“What shall we do?” Ali moaned. Night had fallen and they had set up a makeshift tent and got a fire going with whatever they could find. It was the month of December, and the air had turned cold an hour ago, at dusk.
“How should I know?” Tom grumbled. “There isn’t enough time to head back, and which way is it back to the village?” Ali turned round. There wasn’t anything in sight. Except… maybe, or was it her imagination? A tiny dot sat on the eastern horizon, far far away. It was underneath Gemini, by the star Procyon in Canis Minor.
“Tom! Look, there. Am I imagining it?” Ali’s voice cracked – it was parched ever since their water ran out. Tom squinted.
“Hmm…” Tom stopped stoking the fire. “Maybe… Let’s head there at first light.” For the first time since their water ran out, Tom smiled. They had a reason not to give up, and it gave him determination. Looking at Ali’s face, too, gave him courage. He wasn’t in this alone.
Back at the village, an aura of panic had settled among the people. Ali and Tom were the cleverest among the children, and had been the most useful. Alice, Tom’s mother, wore a black hood all the time, and wept at the merest mention of her son’s name. Ali’s father had suffered even worse, though. He wouldn’t leave the house, and he refused to leave his room. People spying through the windows had tries to help him, but he wouldn’t talk back to them. Doctors had said he was positively ill, but they could do nothing to help. It was almost as if his soul had been dragged out of him, searching for his lost daughter on the baked sands. In his family, the women had always achieved something to be proud of. There was a leather book, full with the recounts of their achievements written in their own hand. Ali’s great-great-grandmother (Barbara) had been sold into slavery, and with her help she rescued and escaped with 900 other people. Her daughter (Hannah), had led the rebels to the desert, and dug a well with fresh water. She built houses, and she rescued them from a terrible fate of being captured, as no-one would venture into the desert unless they had to. She gave birth to a total of 6 children, 5 boys and a single girl (Anne), at a time of disarray. Hannah died in childbirth, and the people were then fighting for power. However, Anne made peace between the opposing sides and united the clan. She told them what they could achieve together and what they couldn’t while they were in disarray. Sadly, she only gave birth to a boy, Ali’s father, so the clan was wondering if there as going to be any more feats from the family.
It was morning in the desert. Ali rubbed sand from her eyes that had gathered in the night and yawned wearily, only to spit out a glob of sand. It was still cool, and the wind was gently nudging her fair hair. Ali got up and rolled up her blanket, put on her thick-soled shoes and went to wake Tom. However, the boy was already awake. Ali helped him pack up their things and soon they were journeying through the desert again.
Ali munched on a bit of bread. “So, what do you think that dot was?” She offered her loaf to Tom.
“Maybe it was our village,” Tom didn’t hesitate in taking a piece of the loaf. “I miss my mother.”
Ali was shocked. Not at Tom’s statement, but it was because she hadn’t spared a thought about her father. “I miss my father too.” She quietly whispered into Tom’s ear. “Do you want to know that I hadn’t thought about my parents until – until now?” Ali asked, trudging forward slowly.
Tom didn’t. He shook his head. “How could you not?”
“I don’t know. ” Maybe it’s the warrior blood inside me, she thought. Supposedly her other side of her family were fearsome warriors, originating from Spain. They had been soldiers, loyal to the king, and would do anything – even killing their own family.
The dot was now closer. Much closer. It took the form of an obelisk, the Egyptian symbol for a ray of sun, frozen in stone, preserved in all eternity. Many images were carved into the stone – hieroglyphics – and there were many symbols – not all of them recognizable – but symbols all the same.
The column of words were written in the early Ptolemic era. (Of course, they didn’t know that. I doubt anyone would’ve.) With the sun behind it, it looked a blazing gold. They sat down at the at the foot of the tower, and they stared forlornly at the ground.
“We came all this way, only to find out its an obelisk?” Ali kicked the sand in disgust.”Who in their right mind would build such a thing in the middle of nowhere?” Ali ranted and raved at the foot of the obelisk, but soon she tired and lay panting in the noon sun. Then she noticed something looked ver odd – the obelisk seemed to have a small golden aura.
“Ali, look!” Tom gasped. He had noticed it too.
“I know,” she murmered, “it’s glowing!”
Now the glow was more distinctive, and was it her imagination, but… was the sun sitting on top of the spire? Ali blinked. Her eyes watered when looking straight up, but it was still telling her the same message.
“Oh no!” Tom had his mouth hanging open.
