story_narant_1_1

'Pfft! Bleh! Ugh!'

'Who dug this hole in the road? I almost broke my back, and my mouth's full of sand!'

The red-headed Kuranta climbs out of the sand hole, looking quite the worse for wear. She is wearing a burdenbeast skull on her foot, having stepped right through the top of it.

She turns around to yell at the empty desert, hardly bothering to even pat the dust and sand off herself.

She does not even know whom she is yelling at, but the more she thinks about it, the angrier she gets. She pulls the skull off her foot and throws it far away.

Which caravan didn't even bother to look for a burdenbeast that fell into a hole? Those bones almost went through my thigh!

And why were they carrying a whole bunch of linen instead of something worth money? *Sargon expletive* All that trouble, and I come back nearly empty-handed!

Narantuya lifts the object she has been holding. It was the only thing that shined gold in the hole, so she took it with her on her way out.

She peruses her lone souvenir in the bright sunlight.

The elaborate patterns on the golden lamp glow brightly.

It's made of gold? Should be worth a pretty good sum! Guess it was a blessing in disguise!

Narantuya wipes the lamp on her clothes, and it casts its golden reflection upon her face.

Wait, are those words engraved on it?

'To Asaf of Fountain Town. Happy eighth birthday. Love, Mother.'

'Treasure it, for it will illuminate all the treasures I left for you.'

...Damned rich people. They give their kids presents made of solid gold?

Well, I guess it'll be justice for all the poor folks they've been stepping on when I turn this golden lamp into meat and wine for my stomach at the bazaar!

Narantuya takes a few steps, then stops. She looks down again at the engraved words.

'Treasures'. I read that right, didn't I? It says 'treasures'?

Treasures left behind by such wealthy people...

They must be worth even more than this golden lamp!

Hey, old man! Show your face! I've got questions for you!

What's the rush? Have a couple of drinks to cool down.

You've been to more places in this desert than I have. Have you heard of a 'Fountain Town'?

Of course! Fountain Town is... hehe.

Spit it out!

What is this? Vengeance, or robbery?

...It's a wealthy place, isn't it? Tell me where it is.

No rush, no rush, have a couple of drinks with me and I'll tell you.

...Fine, I was thirsty anyway.

Why are you only pouring one? Aren't you drinking?

Sure am. This one's mine.

What about mine?

Gotta pay up first.

Like I ever owed you booze money. How much?

One hundred... no, two hundred dinars.

Narantuya's hand, which was reaching for the coin bag on her belt, freezes in mid-air. With clenched teeth, she asks—

You think your diluted arak is worth two hundred dinars a cup?

Of course not.

But the information you're looking for is.

It's none of my business what business you have at Fountain Town, whether you were hired to bump somebody off, or found a treasure map for a pot of gold...

Two hundred dinars, then? Fine, I'll pay. Bring the booze!

Guessed right, didn't I? Hey, no need to glare. You think this bundle of old bones is gonna steal your treasure?

Bah, paying two hundred dinars doesn't make your swill taste any better!

One cup's not enough to loosen your lips? Fine, I'll have another!

Narantuya throws her whole coin bag at the man. It is unclear whether she is grimacing because the alcohol is burning her throat, or the frustration is burning her heart.

What are you sitting there for? Pour! There's gotta be at least two hundred dinars in the bag!

Two hundred was for the first cup. The second's gonna cost you four hundred.

Now, now, don't get violent with me, Narantuya. I know you're good, but every bazaar has its rules, and my rule is...

No refunds.

If one cup's enough for you, that's fine too. So many sand bandits are looking to make their fortune in this desert, someone's gotta be willing to buy a couple of cups.

I'll be back in half an hour with the money... And you better not tell anyone.

Narantuya touches the scimitar on her belt and puts on her fiercest expression.

Sure, sure...

Thump.

The sound of the heavy coin bag hitting the counter wakes the fake liquor seller with such a fright that he falls to the ground.

Narantuya grabs the bottle from behind the counter and takes a swig from it.

What are you doing? Count them.

Y-You've gotta have at least a thousand dinars in this bag! Don't tell me...

No need to get excited. I just sold a burdenbeast to a caravan.

Since when did you have a burdenbeast?

Since just now. Stole it from a passing caravan.

Don't tell me it was the same caravan.

It was the same caravan.

Did those idiots not realize?

Nope. Wanna know how it went down?

Then tell me where this *Sargon expletive* Fountain Town is!

Alright, alright, no rush, lemme pour you a cup—from my special collection. Not diluted at all.

Narantuya downs the spirit and looks at the 'map' the fake liquor seller gave her.

Little more than a napkin with a few lines drawn on it, representing hills and roads.

It's at least a three or four day journey... are you sure?

When have I ever scammed anyone... I mean, when have I ever scammed <i>you</i>?

But you're right, it's a long way. Way too long to walk.

Are you trying to sell me your old and deaf burdenbeast? The one you have tied up behind the tent?

You catch on quick! I'll give you a good price, eight hundred dinars!

It's hauled goods for you your entire life without getting a single decent meal, and now you want to sell it to me?

Well, if you won't buy it, I guess I'm having meat for dinner.

Narantuya shakes her head.

...What I mean is, you're selling it short. I think it's worth a thousand dinars, at least.

Narantuya takes the 'map', downs the rest of the cup's contents, and turns around to leave.

Hey, Narantuya! You didn't tell me how the caravan didn't notice that you stole their burdenbeast!

...I just dangled some wheat in front of its face, and it came with me quietly.

That's all? How boring.

Serves them right for all the dirty business they do, though!

Serves 'em right... Yeah. Absolutely.

The moment Narantuya leaves, the fake liquor seller starts quickly packing up his tent.

Closing shop so early?

Yeah, come back tomorrow... No, I won't be here tomorrow. Hope we meet again!

What, you owe someone money?

Just scammed a madwoman. Gotta get out of town before she comes back... Now stop asking questions and scram!

The fake liquor seller runs out the tent with his luggage on his back, only to realize that there is only a rope tied to the stake where he leashed his burdenbeast.

*Sargon expletive*! Narantuya! So it was MY burdenbeast that you stole!

Damn, spent all my money before I even caught a glimpse of the treasure.

Don't disappoint me, sweet treasure... *hic*... it better be all gold coins inside a chest made of solid gold!

Narantuya climbs to the top of the hill and compares the map with the view in front of her.

Shouldn't there be a hill here?

Was I holding it upside down?

Oh! Now I see a village. That's more like it.

Narantuya rubs her eyes and casts her gaze forward, but her vision remains blurred.

That drink made me even more thirsty. Gotta find a place with a well to spend the night. Hopefully a burdenbeast to carry me too...

Narantuya stands up with unsteady legs.

Damn, how could this stuff be so strong?

Narantuya takes a few wobbly steps forward and steps into a musbeast hole, causing her to fall and roll down the slopes.

Ow! My head!

I'm never drinking fake liquor again!

...My head hurts!

Where am I... why does it feel so wet... is it raining?

Narantuya opens her eyes and sees a familiar burdenbeast licking her face excitedly.

What's going on?!

I found the burdenbeast! Hey, aren't you that girl who sold it to me?

What happened to me...

Oh no, the map!

Narantuya frantically searches herself and is relieved to find that the creased map is still there.

Phew... you didn't touch my stuff, did you?

We just arrived, following the burdenbeast's tracks. Did you fall from the hill? Look at all the bruises on you...

You're not thinking of buying it back, are you? It'll cost you at least three thousand dinars.

No, I'm not...

Wait, that's double the price, isn't it?

We're counting on this old burdenbeast to find water for us! Well, it found you first.

Maybe it just smelled a familiar liquor... Are you guys heading this way too?

Are you passing by Fountain Town? The place marked on this map...

...You call this a 'map'?

I bought it with the money I sold the burdenbeast for. Maybe I'm holding it upside down. This is the place where Fountain Town should be...

Hah, you got scammed, lady. This is just a bunch of scribbles!

I got scammed?!

Now I remember. Fountain Town was a really wealthy place.

But it fell on hard times a few decades ago, and everyone moved away. There's only a Fountain Village now, which happens to be in the same direction we're headed.

(But the golden lamp said 'Fountain Town'. Are people just used to the old name?)

If it's the same direction, can you take me along on the way? I'll pay you once we get there.

We don't do credit. Small business.

Then... how about I guard your caravan? You won't need to pay me.

You see those thirty big, burly, armed men over there? They're our guards.

I can feed your burdenbeasts?

We have dedicated keepers that work around the clock in shifts.

What DO you need then?

Hm... we could use someone to collect the burdenbeast dung behind us. It's useful as fuel. But you'll have to walk behind the caravan all day. Not the sort of work most people are willing to do.

...I'll do it!

(I'll just pick a strong and healthy burdenbeast and run away with it when we're near the place!)

(He wanted to sell it back for twice the price! That's highway robbery! Someone should teach you a lesson!)

Hey, thanks. Must be hard work, eating sand and dust all day in the rear.

There's more than just sand... What the hell are you feeding these burdenbeasts?

You got any water? I want to wash my face and hands.

You know how precious water is in the desert. Bear with it.

I'm just here to collect what you picked up today... Wait, you filled this whole cart with the stuff?!

...I just want to know when we get to Fountain Village.

We're almost there.

Are we there yet?

Almost—

Are the there yet?!

Almost, really!

We're not there yet... Oh, screw this. Call over your thirty guards.

What for?

Because next time you say 'almost', I'm putting my fist in your face. But I need your guards there so you can't say I'm bullying you.

We'll be there soon! Trust me!

Look, right over there! You see those dozen houses on the bank of the river? We've been going around it, but this time we're really almost there!

Going around it? What d'you mean?

We're running a business here! All the caravans go around that poor, backwater place.

(Poor, backwater place? If you knew there was treasure there...)

So you never intended to take me to Fountain Village?

Our deal was just to take you along on the way.

'Take me along'? You had me shoveling dung behind the caravan!

I'd beat you to a pulp if I wasn't so tired... Fine, I'll go there myself! You can pick up this stuff yourself!

Don't throw it at me!

Now my silk tunic's all dirty! I'm deducting this from your pay!

You're not paying me anything!

Don't care. Any damage is to be paid back at three times the original price. Right now, you owe me 2700 dinars, plus a ten percent handling fee if you pay in gold certificates.

...I don't have any money on me.

I can loan you some. The interest-rate per day is...

What's that sound... why are you grinding your teeth like that?

Now, now, no need to get violent. You have something pretty valuable on your belt, don't you?

Narantuya looks down at her belt. The golden lamp, which she had wrapped in a tattered piece of cloth. The handle has become exposed, and its golden glow shines brightly.

...Not this.

...I have thirty guards.

And I have four blades. You're welcome to try.

Come on! You're being as unreasonable as a sand bandit! We've done business before, haven't we?

Unreasonable? I... I AM a sand bandit!

Well, even sand bandits have to buy food and sell their stolen wares. I can at least give you a price for your trinket. You might even end up selling it to me anyway.

Narantuya angrily takes out the lamp and presses it against the caravan leader's nose.

You think I care about your money? You see this? Made of solid gold! It's enough to buy all your burdenbeasts with change to spare!

Solid gold? Doesn't look that way to me.

The caravan leader scratches the side of the golden lamp lightly with his fingernail, revealing the dull color underneath.

See? It's copper on the inside with a layer of golden paint... Hah, got scammed by someone else, didn't you?

Though it's good craftsmanship, I'll give it that. Might have fooled me, if I were a little less knowledgeable.

But if I knew you were this gullible, I'd have struck a harder bargain when I bought your burdenbeast... haha....

Every word from the caravan leader makes Narantuya's expression grow darker. She clutches the 'golden' lamp so hard it is almost as if she is trying to crush it.

She looks up at the caravan leader, whose mouth continues to move, babbling words that she is not listening to. All she knows that they irritate her.

She raises her fist.

Y-You hit me! Guards! Where are my thirty guards? Help!

Narantuya is tired, thirsty, hungry, and angry.

She reaches towards her belt and finds her empty coin bag. She is also poor.

Then, she finds the lamp, and she angrily tosses it towards the sky.

*Sargon expletive*!

This is all your fault!

The lamp spins in the air a few times, then falls straight back down, almost hitting her in the face.

It falls on the sand, the engraved side facing up. Narantuya remembers the words without having to look.

'...it will illuminate all the treasures I left for you.'

...Some damned treasure.

Narantuya drags her exhausted hide forward. She is not sure where she is going, as long as it is away from the lamp.

But then, she recalls the other line etched on it—

'To Asaf of Fountain Town. Happy eighth birthday. Love, Mother.'

*Sigh*...

Narantuya angrily kicks the sand and hits a hard rock. It hurts so much it brings tears to her eyes.

She slows down and eventually turns around to pick up the lamp.

Never give up, even if it's just a tiny sliver of hope... For the treasure...

Don't let me down this time.

This is Fountain Town... I mean, Fountain Village, right?

Who are you looking for?

Does someone by the name of Asaf live here?

What do you want with him? I've never seen you around these parts!

It's a long story. Bring him over—I have something to give him.

Is someone looking for old Asaf? He's really sick. The mayor said no one is to go near his house.

<i>Old</i> Asaf?

There must be a mistake. The Asaf I'm looking for is eight years old.

There's only ever been one Asaf in Fountain Village, and he's a hundred and one.

He might've even broken our age record, if his children hadn't moved away and refused to take care of him...

There's no one taking care of him?

What's it to you? I'm still not letting you in our village!

With a sigh, Narantuya takes out the golden lamp, carefully placing her thumb to hide where the paint was scratched off.

Let me see him. You can have this, if he's really the one I'm looking for.

The villagers look at the golden object, then at each other hesitantly.

Narantuya walks into the tiny hut. The air is filled with dust and the strong smell of herbs.

A withered old man lies on the bed, his chest heaving up and down, and a strange rattle coming from his throat.

Narantuya can see his life fading before her eyes.

Wait! Don't... not yet!

Narantuya dashes towards the bed and puts the slightly misshapen lamp in the old man's hand.

Holding his withered hand, she lifts the lamp into the sunlight, and it reflects its golden glow in the old man's eyes.

Look, there are words etched here! Let me read them for you—

'To Asaf of Fountain Town. Happy eighth birthday. Love, Mother.'

You're Asaf, right? This was a birthday present from your mom, but an accident happened and it never reached you.

Do you hear me, Asaf? I'm giving you the golden lamp that your mom gave you as a present!

The old man's eyes go wide and his lips quiver, but no coherent words come out of them.

Yes, your mom. You remember her, right?

Do you remember where this 'treasure' she talked about is?

Trea—sure. Treasure!

I didn't catch that. Say it again?

Narantuya leans down, putting her ears towards the old man's mouth, only to feel that his hands seem to have regained a little bit of strength.

He clutches the golden lamp and presses it against his chest, above his heart.

Then, he slowly reaches out towards the single ray of sunlight shining through the roof.

'To Asaf of Fountain Town...'

'...it will illuminate all the treasures I left for you.'

The sun shines upon the old man's palm and face. Narantuya does not know what he saw in the sunlight, but she sees a content smile on his face.

The old man closes his eyes and mutters softly...

...I see it, Mother.

So where's the treasure?

The old man opens his eyes irritably, and Narantuya could swear that he rolled his eyes at her.

He opens his lips again, and Narantuya leans forward—

She's the one who insisted on seeing Asaf, mayor!

She had gold on her! Said she would give it to us!

Narantuya does not answer. She draws her knife and plunges it in the ground.

Have you prepared a grave for him?

Fine.

Narantuya picks a withered tree and buries the old man under it, along with the lamp.

Sorry it's so far away. They won't let me bury you in the village. Wasn't easy, carrying you all the way here.

This hilltop overlooks Fountain Village, so you'll always be able to see it if you miss home.

And the tree'll give you shade, so that the sand won't burn your back.

...It'll also tell me where you are, if I ever come through here again.

Narantuya leans against the tree and wiggles her hands, which had become numb from the exertion.

All that effort and not a single coin to show for it. Never thought I'd have to bury someone I've never met before.

So the treasure I was looking for was just a mother's blessings for her child...

I'd already thrown the lamp away and was totally ready to leave, but then I thought about that little boy sitting by the door, waiting for his birthday present...

Who knew he'd been waiting that long?

Narantuya pats the withered tree, and a hollow sound comes out of it.

Well, that was a total loss. I'm never doing this again.

Narantuya sighs and stands up. In one last act of frustration, she punches the withered tree.

Crack—

It seems she punched it a little too hard. A long crack appears in the trunk, revealing the hollow within.

...Please don't be dried burdenbeast dung.

Narantuya stretches her hand into the hollow, and finds a heavy and strangely-shaped object.

...You've got to be kidding me.

It is a goblet etched with elaborate patterns, with gems embedded across its surface. The form and craftsmanship are on a completely different level from the lamp she just buried.

Oh please—

Narantuya lifts it before her eyes, and it shines bright gold under the setting sun.

What the hell is going on?!

Narantuya examines the golden goblet carefully.

In the last light of dusk, she seems to see some delicate etchings on the bottom, looking strangely like...

No!

Narantuya closes her eyes and lies down on the sand, still clutching the goblet.

Not now... I'm too tired for this right now...