Other Worlds Anthology: Writing Contest#1

Doors Ajar: The Serpent's Door

by Robert Reilly

 

In Wickham—a small hamlet in Raham that most in our nation forget exists, perhaps for the best—we lived mostly carefree lives. The empire tended to leave us be, only ever sending their minions to collect tithes and what little crops our lands had to offer. Bits and bobs for their purses, leafs and grain for their pipes and mills. There was not much in the way of entertainment, save our precious pub, and whatever poor fool had one too many. Yet, we were inventive and often found games out of the land and things laying about. We were quite skilled at hitting minuscule targets from far away, often under the spell of barley. So many of us Wicks, such as I, would fall into our empire's archery ranks. I say fall, but some stumbled in, others awoke in, and even a few were tossed in. I'd say I am one of the minority who strode in. I needed to, if I wanted to satisfy that urge to defy one of the few rules Wickham held.

It was my eighth year, upon the cusp of the darker season, but not quite Aadarun. Already our noses could feel the bite of the Dooner's chill. My mates and I played near the creek under the cliff just outside the village, doing what lads our age do best: One up each other with increasingly more preposterous feats both great and small.

"I bet I can cross my eyes longer than anyone!" Someone might say.

"I bet I can cross the creek without falling in!" Another might say.

"Yeah? Well I bet I can take a hit without wincing!" Yet another will dare.

Somehow we thought doing this was impressive, brave, or manly. But the biggest challenge came from me. With a loud voice, I pointed up towards the looming cliff, at the dark impression within the side and proclaimed, "I bet I can go inside the cave without getting caught!"

All the kids collectively, mockingly, "oohed" at me. They teased and pushed, and dared. As if that was the one silly thing that out of the realm of reason. Now, my kind audience, as a boy in his eighth year, especially in such a small village, it was generally considered better to die a real death than a social death. A foolish thought to those of us with the experience of age and duty, but everything to a young lad who had everything to prove. And prove I did. Over the creek from stone to stone I leapt, though I regret to say I lacked grace in any sense of the word. The cliffside was met by a hill to the cave, like a long tongue from the maw of a beast. Cautiously I dared closer and closer, my friends shouting and jeering from across the way. The ones who dared me on filled my confidence, while the ones who warned me away filled my defiance. As I reached for the mouth of the cave, a new type of screaming overtook my friends. Before I knew it, the village adults descended upon the children, while the Mother Superior unexpectedly yanked me away by my collar.

Back at the shelter that night, we all got a firm scolding, but mine was worse. Many a battles, duels, and scrapes in my life, my hide was never more sore than when the Mother Superior's palm made quick work of each cheek. Yet we were reminded that particular cave was not to be entered. Oh they would wax this and that about beasts within, and how entering in invited trouble or death. It was no trouble for us to enter any other deep, dark, damp cavern. But the one upon the cliff? That was off limits.

As a lad, I have not once seen or heard a beast walk or crawl from that maw. Not a single time. The older I got, the more I learned about that cave. The purpose of our town was to watch it. Maintain ceremony to keep the beasts at bay. Ceremonies I didn't know were for that purpose. Many years of lit bonfires, festivals, feasts, with foods and perfumes and dances and crafts I would be thrilled to regale you all on, but lest I seize the stage…

So, were those ceremonies working? Why was that cave not blocked off? Why would the empire not have armed forces in our town if that cave was so dangerous? I cannot speak for the incompetence of governments and people. Yet I knew one thing for certain: I wanted to see the inside of that cave.

In my fifteenth year I still did not adhere to the idea of there being beasties within that cave, and I certainly did not believe the tales of "brave" soldiers who entering in and never came back. I had every intention of proving those silly stories wrong. But the only way I could get inside that cave is by becoming one of those said "brave soldiers". So off I went to become such.

As I've said, our little village produced some of the best archers in our empire. We were elite, often only ever called in for covert missions, or in the most dire of consequences. However, I also took to the short sword well. Aye, I could hit the freckle on your arse from a continent away, or slit your ankles while I make my escape. I was never much for killing. I feel leaving my targets weakened for life keeps my reputation. But that doesn't mean I don't have a tally. But I'm wandering in to other tales there. Suffice to say, I'm good.

In my time of service, I inquired about my town and the cave. Aside from everyone suddenly recalling the existence of my village, despite the reputation of our archers, everyone appeared clueless about the cave. Appeared so. To be fair, some looked at me with eyes that said, "How am I to know the geography of your backwater village?" While others dismissed me with the faintest glimmer of knowledge. Those people, though few, were of the higher echelon of society: old priests, old monks, and old politicians. You would think that would be enough to prove to me that perhaps there was truth to the tales designed to keep us out of the cave, and you'd be right. I believed they were keeping us out. Not for our own safety, but because they had something to hide.

This is what I told my mates that fateful night over our respective favorite poisons. There was Crolling, as wide as a carriage, but as tall as a barrel. Yet he could dislocate your arm with a gentle handshake. He always mad a fuss of wiping the foam from his forest of a beard. Dark liquid barley is his favorite. Met him during a mission gone wrong. We both ended up saving each other's hides. That was four years ago. We met at the pub every week since. Only learned each other's names last year.

Next is Auslander, our mage. That white streak in her crimson fringe a reminder of why she's only the third best mage in our empire. I still think Pearson cheated, but Auslander takes it in stride. Says it's a reminder for next time. She took to poitín, and strong ones at that. Mages in our empire had this ability to metabolize their drink quicker than most, so they would drink strong and drink many. My attempt to court her was met by a challenge. If I could out drink her, she would agree to a date. I found out she was a mage after I woke up in a haystack the next morning, my own sick on my trousers. I must have done something right, for she checked in on me all night. But she's quick to remind me how lightweight I was. For those wondering, no we do not. The one other time I tried, she offered the same challenge. I'm not that much of a fool.

Finally there's Rurode. Bit of a quiet sort, but perhaps he learned that from his trade. He's a hunter and trapper some thirty years now. Damn good at it too. His skin now the texture of leather. His mitts calloused and scarred. Being outside for long periods in every element will do that to a person. He studies his environment as much as his prey. Even if he's hunted many alike, he says every individual creature has its quirks to learn. He doesn't just hunt game, he hunts man. Though that last bit is usually asked for by the empire. Our meeting was an accident. I saw movement from far away in the brush, and thinking it was my target I fired. The arrow struck something, but to my shock I saw his gray hair and beard rise from the shrubs. Even more shocking, he had caught my arrow. Apologies were met by that distant but firm stare. He agreed for me to make amends, and after our respective duties—it turned out we were after the same man—I brought him to our pub. I offered him ale, patoín, all varieties of barley, but he simply requested champagne. He only ever asks for one glass, and he nurses it. He's not much for conversation, but if you can get a story out of him, by the Mighty, it will be a good one.

"Gancarz," Crolling lowered his stein, stroking the foam off his beard, "You've been on about this cave for years. I keep telling you if you really want to go in, you can just do it."

"Yes, but going in alone I think would be foolish!" I objected.

"You're the one who insists there is nothing to worry about." He retorted, before mocking me, "'Not like there's any beasties in there'."

I tensed open my hands, pressing the side of my palms on the wood of the table, "Just because I believe that, doesn't mean I can't be careful."

"What makes you think we'd want to follow you anyway?" Auslander's vocal fry drew my attention.

"What else are you going to do? We have this rare opportunity where we all have leave at the same time! Plus, it'll be Aadarun! And we Wicks go hard this time of year!"

"I don't know," She lifted her glass, "maybe I'd like to go home and nap for a week." She threw her shot back, before tapping the glass loudly on the table. Someone quickly came by to refill it.

"I want to see my home town." Crolling chimed in.

Rurode was tinkering with his compass.

"Come on, now, why? Not like any of you have family to see for the holiday."

"I'm still waiting for the sales pitch that'll make me interested." Auslander threw back another, tapping the table.

Crolling shyly lifted his mug to his lips, "Maybe I have friends I'd like to see?"

My eyes lowered at him, "You've only ever hung around me for these last four years. And bothered me non-stop whenever you had leave." I sat back.

"Well, you didn't need to bring honesty in to this…" He sipped.

"I'll go." Rurode didn't take his eyes off his compass as he sipped his fizzy drink.

I was surprised! I thought for sure I'd need to convince him more than Auslander. After all, he preferred operating on his own. When I pressed him, he responded, "If there's a chance of a beast I have not seen, I would like to see it."

"G-great!" I turned to Auslander while motioning towards Rurode, "You see? At least he's curious!"

She didn't return my look. She simply blinked once with her brow raised, and slammed back another glass before tapping for more.

"And, Crolling. You're me best mate! I'd like for you to come. Plus if there is any beasties in there, you'd be the wall to hold em off!"

Crolling shrugged, "I'm just as convinced as you are there's nothing in there. But maybe there'll be a big rock I can push for you." He finished his drink and placed it in front of me. He, too, raised his brow, but with a smile. I rolled my eyes before calling over a server for another pint for him. Crolling nodded slowly in approval.

Auslander leaned her tiny glass towards Crolling, "So you'll go because you're easily swayed," she leaned it towards Rurode, "You're going because curiosity killed the cat," finally, she leaned the glass towards me, "And you're going because you're still a defiant child." She threw it back, and tapped the table.

"Come on, Aus. It'll be fun." I pressed.

"Fun is reminding you that your tolerance is of a toddler." She smirked.

"Look," I leaned in, "I said we Wicks go hard for Aadarun! Plus, for all we know there could be treasure in there. Maybe even a hidden grimoire that can give you an edge over—"

"Paaaass." She continued her drinking routine.

"What'll—" I paused, then leaned back, "Oh, I get it. I never took you as someone being afraid of the dark."

She paused mid glass-to-lips. She lowered her drink, "I'm not afraid of the dark."

"Don't be modest." I shrugged, "You're among friends."

"One of whom I'm questioning."

"If you're too scared, even with all of us, I guess you really can just stay in your warm, safe bed all week."

Her eyes narrowed. She tapped the table, but when the server came to refill her glass, she pointed at me. The server left and returned quickly with an empty glass and poured me a shot. Before the server left, Auslander tapped the table again. The server turned, and Auslander pointed at me again. She did this another two times. With four shots of Auslander's favorite poitín in front of me, she folded her arms and waited.

The next day, Crolling drove a covered wagon to Wickham. I barely remember much of that trip, nursing the pain Auslander forced upon me. She sat in the back with me, a satisfactory smile on her face. Rurode assisted with driving the wagon, and overall the trip took about a day. We were welcomed by Mother Superior, who was not surprised by my state, but offered us each a bed. However, I found out the next morning that Crolling let slip our plans over breakfast. I don't blame him. I'm fairly sure Mother Superior could end wars by a sneer of disapproval.

"Need I remind you?" She jammed her finger inches from my nose.

"How could I ever forget?" I thought of my poor cheeks.

"You never could follow rules."

"Oh, what a surprise." Auslander sipped from a chipped teacup.

"I followed your rules! Remember that time I cleaned the walls?"

Mother Superior folded her arms, "You threw tomatoes at the walls, and had the animals lick them off."

"Lick them off clean." I pointed back at her.

She huffed, "What's stopping me from having a boulder rolled in front of the cave?"

"Hasn't stopped anyone before." I retorted, "That cave has been wide open for as long as I can remember. If it's so dangerous, why hasn't anyone sealed it off?"

She paused briefly, and just before she was about to speak, I interrupted, "Do you even know what's in there at all? Have you or anyone else been in there?"

"The stories our ancestors tol—"

"Have you or anyone else been in there?" I repeated, more emphatically.

"Young man, you will mind your manners!"

"Yeah, mate, come on." Crolling said, crumbs of his toast hailing all over the table. Even Rurode was eyeing me.

I grimaced, before sighing, "My apologies."

Mother Superior looked between us all, considering. She motioned me to the table, and stacked my plate with fluffy eggs, half a sausage, and a single thick slice of toast. She sat beside Rurode, and began, "I have been in the cave."

I was the only one who sat up, "You?! Really?!"

"You asked if I have."

"But I never imagined you actually did!"

"I was much like you, lad. My parents tried to instill honor and duty in me, as I tried you. I never listened. I thought it also weird that cave loomed openly, unobstructed, unopposed. It dared me to enter it. We all heard the stories. Some beasts in there, a demon even, would end anyone who entered." She sipped from her cup, grimaced a little, before dropping a lump of sugar in. We, or I, eagerly waited for her to continue. A few stirs, a tap or two, and a satisfying slurp lead to her going on, "But I did. During Aadarun, when everyone was dancing and feasting, I slipped away, crossed the creek, and made my way to the mouth. Hesitantly I stepped in. One toe, followed by a whole foot. Nothing happened. So, I walked further in. The darkness came quickly, but I thought my eyes would adjust. I didn't notice a stubborn rock before I stubbed my toe in to it. I let out a yelp, and something called back. A loud snort. Then another. Then another. In rapid succession. Something was coming."

She sipped again.

"What did you do?" Auslander was fully on board.

"What was it?" Rurode chimed in.

"Ignoring the pain in my toes, I ran as quick as I could. Yelling all the way out of the cave. By the time I got to the other side of the creek, enough people came to see the commotion." Mother superior looked at Rurode, "Yet I do not know what it was. Nothing followed me out. My parents were the officials of the town, then. They ordered the cave to be sealed off. That night, a few men stacked many rocks in front, until the cave could no longer be seen. The next morning, the rocks were gone. As if they were never stacked in the first place."

"Something barged through it?" Crolling folded his fist into his other hand.

"There was no noise. If something barged through, some sort of commotion would have occurred. There was none." Mother superior returned her gaze to me, "Whatever is in there does not wish for any comings or goings, nor to be sealed off. I don't know why. It is best you leave it alone." She reached over and placed a hand on my arm, "Please."

I thought for a moment, before nodding, "I will leave it alone."

Everyone else agreed.

The bonfires of Aadarun were lit that night. We all much enjoyed ourselves for a time. Auslander was unimpressed by our drink, Crolling danced and ate to seemingly no end, and I helped Mother Superior replenish the food table. In the middle of it all, I caught Rurode wandering around. Specifically in the cave's direction. I set a plate of steamed vegetables on a table, and made myself look as if I was returning to the house who volunteered their kitchen this year, but ducked behind it instead. I hastily, but quietly, made my way to Rurode. No surprise, but he turned in my direction long before I reached him.

"I knew you couldn't resist. Now I have an excuse." I chuckled like I was in my eighth year again.

"You would have found any excuse, Gancarz." He said, plainly.

He waited for me to catch up, before we continued to the creek together. To my surprise, Auslander was there, filling empty bottles with water. She stood when she heard our approach.

"I figured as much." She hitched the bottles, separately, to her belt.

I pointed at her, "Don't try to stop us."

"I'm not sure how far that cave will go, so I've gather water." She replied. She folded her arms, "I don't feel like arguing. I'm just curious about whatever it is that Mother Superior saw."

"What the hell, guys?" Crolling's voice burst through the night. I quickly covered his mouth and pulled him behind a tree. The others ducked behind with us. I peaked around to see if anyone else was there. I released my hand from his bearded lips

"Shush! Do you want us to get caught?!" I whisper screamed.

"You said you wouldn't go in there." He whisper screamed back.

"No, I said I'd leave it alone. And I will. I plan on seeing it, not it seeing me."

"That's not what she meant!"

"But it's what she asked me to do."

"Come on, mate!"

"Hey," Auslander hissed, "while you two are cuddling, Rurode's heading up the hill."

I looked at Crolling, before quietly rushing to catch up to Rurode. Auslander was not far behind me, and I could see Crolling reluctantly tailing her. We each paused at the mouth of the cave. I cannot speak for the others, but for a brief moment excitement and fear took hold of me. Rurode was the first to step in, followed by Auslander who summoned a small flame in her hand. Crolling timidly looked at me, and I gestured for him to go first. He unwillingly shuffled in. Excitedly, I set foot in to the cave, but froze. Something compelled me to look back. There, on the other side of the creek Mother Superior stood, arms folded. Watching. Judging. She turned her head, then her body, and started back to the bonfire. I'm uncertain if there is damnation, but what I could return to may very well be close. Accepting that fate, I finally was swallowed by the mouth.

Auslander's light illuminated just enough of the throat to see what was ahead, above, and below. To the best of our knowledge, if there was a beast here, its sense of sound was keen. We stepped carefully, checking each curve. The cave itself never forked. There was but one path, and it was wide enough for us to fan out, but likely only able to fit one more body in such a formation. I can't imagine any army making its way through here. At some point Rurode gently clasped Auslander's shoulder, bidding her halt. He looked deep in to the darkness ahead, pointing at his ear. We held our breaths, hoping to hear whatever it was he was hearing. For a moment, I thought I heard a gentle huff, but that could have very well been a draft.

Then that got me wondering, why would there be a draft?

I gingerly clasped my hand over Auslander's flame, extinguishing it. She gave me a look, a look I could only see, if barely, due to a faint light far ahead of us. Could it be an exit, I wondered? The brightness of the light could have only been from daylight, not a candle or lamp. Could we have wandered so long in the dark, that night turned to day?

I motioned to move towards the light, but Rurode swiftly clasped my wrist. He shook his head ever so slowly. I nudged mine in the direction of the light. He shook his head again. He pointed at himself, then down towards the light. He pointed three of his fingers at us, and then one finger at the ground. I shook my head at him, but he replied with the same motion, firmly. The fatherly air about him rooted us to the spot as before he crept forward in to the passage. We lost sight of him around the bend, and there we stayed in silence. How long? I'm uncertain. Could have been just a couple of minutes, but to me it felt like hours. It was long enough for Crolling to become bored, and kick the dirt. To which, a loud, reverberating wine and huff shook our bodies.

"Damn it!" Rurode resounded impossibly far.

Auslander immediately lit a large flame as both her and I took off down the path. In my haste, I hurriedly lifted my bow from my back, and flicked open the quiver. I could hear Crolling stomping behind us to catch up, presumedly ready with his mighty axe. My short sword and Auslander's mace bounced wildly on each of our hips, a reassuring reminder of their existence. Off in the ever shortening distance, we could hear Rurode shouting and grunting, and something stomping and snorting.

We turned the bend and came in to a wide, bright cavern. In our haste all that we took in was an exit up a bending natural staircase with the promise of daylight, a shallow knee deep pool of clear water off a semi-steep drop, and some large creature, filled with many if not most of Rurode's arrows, stood firm before him. His bow ready to loose another.

"HEY!" I shouted.

The long tale of the beast swept the air, and lifted its indomitable head in our direction. This beast resembled a horse, but with two long, large, curved horns jutting out from top of its head on either side, before curving back in to a fine point. It's ears were taller, much wider than your average steed, and the muscles from his neck down to its hind legs were staunch, solid, but larger than your average man. The very air around it was oppressive to the point of exhaustion, its mane wild, black crimson, and knotted, yet it were the eyes are what drew me in. They were whiter than a virgin sheet, rimmed with red as one who hasn't slept in day. The lower lid was crest with dried yellow puss-like tears, trickling down its long snout.

"It's blind!" I shouted. Before I could react, it charged in response, closing the distance quicker than a heavy beast ever should.

"BUT NOT DEAF!" Crolling shoved Auslander and I aside, bracing both hands on his axe in front of him for impact.

The horns caught underneath the long handle of the axe, and it lifted its head sending Crolling over its back, crashing in to Rurode with a labored exhale.

I readied my bow, but Auslander shoved her hand before me. My attention assured, she shifted her open palm to a single finger, first pointing at the beast then shoved her thumb down the pathway we came from. I pivoted, and loosed my arrow down the dark throat, twanging on something far, far in the darkness. It snorted, galloping past us down the throat. We waited until I could no longer hear it, then hurried over to Rurode and Crolling.

"You intact, lads?" I asked, quietly.

In the distance a loud snort rang back, followed by quick, hard galloping.

Auslander mouthed through gritted teeth, "Will you shut up?!"

We helped Rurode and Crolling to their feet just as the beast resurfaced from the dark. It paused, ears searching at every angle. Ready to fight or flee, we stood eyeing each other for suggestions. It was Rurode who raised his hand slowly, getting our attention. Though he was very careful, as he saw the beast faintly picking up on the shuffle of his clothes. I quickly loosed another arrow over the beast and down the throat again, and it took off.

Rurode hurriedly retrieved some string from his pouch, took three of my arrows, and all four of Auslander's bottles. He quickly started tying string to the top of each arrow near the head, he carefully uncorked each bottle with his tunic to muffle the sound, and poured all but half a pinky's worth of water out of all save one. The last one he poured all of the water out and on to the arrows. He paused when we thought we heard the beast turn around and snort.

He fed the other end of each string in to the shallow bit of water in the three bottles, and breathily mouthed to her, "Freeze them."

A louder snort was heard in response. Auslander touched each bottle with her fingers, frost building but slowly, the sound of ice crackling solid was faint, but enough. The beast did not stop this time. It came right for our huddle.

Crolling lunged, locking the handle of his axe again with the beast, but this time he wrangled and threw it to the side. He let out a loud yell, leaping to where the beast landed swiftly recovered. The two were at it. The beast charging and kicking, Crolling deflecting and pushing.

"MAKE IT QUICK!" Crolling purposefully yelled. "THAT WAS WAY MORE THAN I COULD EVER HANDLE!"

I turned my gaze from Crolling back to Rurode, now hurriedly tying more string from the neck of the bottle to his last arrow.

"What are you doing?" I tried to ask, met only by Auslander's wide, annoyed eyes.

The beast snorted in our direction, but Crolling screamed louder, "I AM YOUR OPPONENT, YOU FOUL MARE!" He had its attention again, as he did his best to push it away when it charged.

Rurode pointed at the stalactites that hung over the pool, before getting back to his knots. There was one that hung lower than the others. Auslander finished her freezing, and Rurode finished his knots. When he lifted his craft, one bow was tied to the neck of an empty bottle. On the base of that bottle was a tight spool of knotted string, with three strands hanging down and tied to the body of each bottle that hung up-side down. The three frozen arrows dangled down, tied by more string held up by the frozen water. When the frozen arrows touched the rim of the battles, they ever so faintly tinkled.

He handed me his last arrow, and pointed again at the stalactite. I drew back my bow, the craft delicately chiming. The beast reared its head at the sound, but I fired before it could come my way. The arrow struck the stalactite, chiming and clacking as the craft settled. The beast, forgetting about Crolling, leaped down in the pool, tossing its horns at the craft splashing about. The craft tinkled and clacked, getting tied up in its horns. The splashing and the chiming making it thrash more, desperately searching for this new intruder in its lair.

"Freeze the pool!" Rurode commanded.

Auslander leapt up, frost blasting in a gust from her palms, shoved both hands down at the pool. The force of the gale from her palms froze the water rapidly, finally holding the beast in place. Though all the while the beast thrashed its head in the bottles. It was only a single breath before we heard the ice start to crack from the beasts frantic neck movements.

"Let's go!" Auslander demanded.

"To the light!" I commanded.

We ran through the promised exit, the roof of this mouth widening and heightening more and more, allowing much more light in. The solid ground, rugged ground softened, and before we knew it, we spilled in to the daylight. Yet there was no grass, no smoldering remains of a bonfire, no village, no trees, no people. There was instead, a still, solid, soft ocean of white. Dunes upon dunes of pure white, soft sand. Sand so soft, one could mistake it for a king's bed. Yet more firm than beach sand. And the sky! Ah that sky! The blue of your average sky pales in comparison to this——this blue! This was real blue. All others were but poor mockeries of this blue. Somewhere off in the distance was, what I could only describe as, the sound of a distant ocean I could not see. Or was that sound closer, as if beneath our very boots? It was not hot, nor cold. The air just was. And despite the daylight, I could see no sun. It hid behind no cloud, for there were no clouds to stain that perfection above us.

Yet these were not the most curious things. For within these dunes, half buried on their sides rested large, open clay jars. And by large, I mean picture your tallest tree, or mightiest mountain. Some jars matched those, and still more surpassed them. They lay scattered about in varying distances. Some of red clay, others more brown, and others with various paints and designs both simple and intricate on them. They lay as if someone knocked them over. The urns spilling out their contents, perhaps? Most were intact, but I spied one or two in the distance crumbled. And as we turned round to observe where we come, to my surprise and bewilderment, it too was a large jar.

You can imagine the thoughts. The mind-shattering thoughts that raced in each of our heads. We circled around the jar we came from, taking overall thirty minutes to reach the back end, and the impossible was all but concluded. Yet here we are. Seeing this with our own eyes. Was our world somehow contained within this fragile, clay jar? Our jar was a bit unremarkable: brown with a white, floral, waving pattern on the body. I would love a word with its maker. I feel we deserve better.

As you can no doubt tell, the beast did not pursue us, nor did it hear us. We all very well knew it escaped its trap, but why the sudden lost of interest? I wager there was something forbidden, if not sacred, about where we stood. We each agreed that the beast was some sort of guardian to keep us from this place, but why? Well, if what we thought about the jar we came from held true, perhaps its a consistent fact. And thus an opportunity presented itself. We each agreed that before we returned down our path we would explore the next closest jar. And there just so happened to be one similar in size, shape, and color, but with a blue waving pattern painted on the side. A blue that contrasted the more reddish brown of the clay. A blue that matched the sky, but of darker shade.

Though at the halfway mark between our jar and the other, a curious thing, if this was not curious enough. As we crested a dune, there down the slope of the dune stood a door. A freestanding door, belonging to no structure, yet stood as if firmly set in an unseen structure. A marvelous door, that one. Wooden and ornate, appearing both ancient and new. Above it, a sign with a black winged serpent entwined over itself in water.

We looked between us, before I reached for the handle.