MIDAS

Midas took a while before realizing the driver's words; something the man must've seen being an unexpected sight, the boy peeked over the girl, still grinning as she held onto the excitement of sneaking out of the quarry the both of them were encaptured in. Lifting up the cloth with his finger, his eyes remembered the familiar pattern of the dunes, which were dimly visible. Dragging his body from the folded open cloth, falling onto his shoulder as he collided with the sand, he exited his ride.

The driver was quick to turn to the boy, his unmasked eyes shutting wide open as he heard the boy fall onto the ground, watching him closely as he came from the back to face the fort, the both of them shortly interlocking eye contact before the foreign man got up. His bleak skin filling up with more red as he watched the girl following, plumbly falling from the carriage onto the ground.

"You! What do you think you're doing? First my customer, now my product? This place... I'm followed by disaster since I came to these dunes..." Firstly shouting at the boy, then aggravatingly mumbling into himself, as he clenched his hands into fists before wildly letting them flap around. The light cloth falling off his shaved head as he held his tantrum. Midas caught a quick glimpse of the salesman; no glow emitted from the back of his hand, his attempt at scanning for a sun shard falling short as the man started to flap around his hands.

Facing the fort, he took a while before recognizing dim pillars of smoke escaping from the fort. Hardly able to be mustered behind the darkened desert sky, as the sun began to set, few sledges began to move around the walls, which protected the dorms of the drivers, who most likely sat on them. Midas instantly began to clutch his teeth, his mind trying to remind him of past words that were muttered right in front of him, only a few sun cicles before his arrival back. Unable to find the memories he was eagerly trying to find, his search for it was cut short by the foreign man.

"Go already! Head off—die in the sand like all of you tend to do! This rotten land—I shouldn't have chosen to be here..." His hands paddling against the boy's face, as the salesman came closer, his light skin making him look foreign in the desert, Midas stopped being rooted to the ground, giving up the idea of trying to think, his instinct telling him to head to the fort; even with the sledge, it would take a slim while to arrive at its walls.

His eyes locked onto a light shimmer that escaped the chain of the salesman, radiating the same orange tone as Almas's sun shard. His head turned, before muttering something in an unrested tone, trying to voice a genuine wish.

"You... this is Fort Hij'Shama, right? I know Alma, but I'm unsure if he's a good fighter. I hope so—still... go back to the quarry and bring more men with you. If you want your customer to remain buying your stuff, try to prevent others from stealing him at all costs." Loose words were muttered from the boy as he started to sprint; eagerly the girl followed, trying to catch up to the boy. The driver frozen in place, muted by his word as he watched the youth run into a full-fledged siege, perplexed by the sight unfolding in front of him, he returned to his ride.

Huffing, Midas finally made it back to the entrance, his hands clutching firmly onto the forged metal key, as he leaned his body against the crumbling mud façade of the wall, catching his breath, as another, more prominent bang sounded from inside the compound. The girl eagerly looking through the keyhole of the door, then looking up to the boy again, as Midas mustered the strength to enter.

Fiddling for a while to slot the key into the hole perfectly, a dim clunking sounded from the door's keyhole. Shoving open the door to enter, the both of them laid eyes onto the open center of the compound; multiple fights between stained hooded men and other foreign-looking fighters in light metal armor were held, dotted around the open field of the center. A wooden catapult was charged up to fire once more, resting on top of the crumbled remains of the entrance gate through which groups of prisoners were funneled. Fire escaped from the upper windows of the central building, flames peeking through the many windows the top layers of the main building possessed, giving light, acting as a great middle torch to the darkened compound center.

Leaning against a wooden pole, the boy didn't wait any longer; the few memories he had made in the time of being able to live in this compound controlled him to speed through the walkway, which led around the outer building, pressing himself against the door that led to Almas's office, falling inside the room. His eyes instantly clutching onto the masked face of Alma, his saber held out towards the boy, both of them paused for a while.

"Good... I was worried; I wanted to look for you. Come quick; we don't have much time." Alma walked around the table, not setting sight onto the intrigued girl, his hand slightly pushing the boy forward, leading him to follow the man behind the table. Midas felt a dim bit of urgency in Alma's actions, as he saw his stool resting on the floor to the side. Before Midas managed to ask him questions, Alma crouched down.

"Who are these people?" Why are they attacking—is it because of that royalty...? He watched Alma, searching for his face before a sudden glow appeared from his hands, splitting up the mud floor in front of them, revealing a set of underground stairs, sealed away from the boy, resting under his seat the whole time. Alma got up swiftly, his palm resting on Midas's upper back once more, as he led him down the stairs, the opening shutting up right after Alma quickly stepped down the set of stairs, blocking the girl from entering. She struggles, not showing any reward, as her banging sounded dimly from above the mud. "Don't worry about her. She's friendly..." Midas uttered.

"I have enough worries now. This is quite urgent; our time is running thin, you see... The Northerners arrived here much earlier than I was told..." Another bang sounded from the mud above them, pieces of dirt flaking off from above, as they passed a dimly lit mud tunnel, only a few candles able to light their way. The sounds of the catapult were muffled by the dirt above them. "I have a reason to be here, a reason as to why I need you to be here—we both have a duty to fulfill." His hand pushed him slightly further, guiding him eagerly down the underground hallway, Midas following Alma, knowing well that all that he gave to him must be paid off by the boy in some way.

Why free him, Midas was just like any other prisoner when Alma found him, gifting him the freedom to roam the halls, have a room, eat, and be able to learn. These gifts the boy received were meant to be paid off one day; he was aware of that, which was why he tried to give back to him by trying to help out in cleaning the walls of the fort, which now were being torn down by the enemy. Almas's arm softly grabbed a hold of his shoulder to stop him from mindlessly following his guide, in front of them a stone frame, leading into an ancient-looking room.

The scene shifted dramatically, from dirt and mud to yellowish sandstone covering the walls of the circular room the two of them found themselves in. The stone was engraved with unfamiliar patterns and runes, marking the walls around him. The boy's gaze wandered up the sloping roof of the room, a long shaft hanging from the middle of it, an arm's length away from an altar, which stood under it in the center of the building. A slight dent was engraved inside of it.

Alma sighed, his stern look hid under the mask; the room was filled with candles crowded on the edges of the room. "Midas... you were the only one I saw all these years I spent here who proved suitable for this task, among the many we gathered to fulfill this duty... I chose you." His hands were placed onto the boy's shoulder firmly as Alma crouched down in front of him. "Please lay your right hand onto the altar for me..." 

Hesitant, as the boy looked at Alma stepping back, he faced the foreign contraption; unsure of what was going to happen, he looked back at the masked man as he faced the altar. "What will happen if I lay my hand on it? Will I be able to fulfill your task?" Midas faced towards him, his confusion slowly outweighing his worry, as he placed his palm onto the dusty dent of the altar.

"Yes, you will; you must—once you possess the rune. With you, Midas, the keepers of the sun shards—my folk—will be saved." Alma stepped back, having an uninterpretable undertone to him, as his hand pushed against a hidden lever. 

The boy watched his hand closely, slightly sweating, as it trembled under the stress of the situation and the ominous room he found himself in; quickly, grabbing his attention, something heavy seemed to fall down the shoot, scraping against its inner walls before impacting his hand. 

Midas crouched together, his arm muscles tightening together as he curled up in pain, his scream numbed by the stone walls. Sounding his aching, he fell to the ground, his hand spilling blood from it, as he lost his feel of it. Something seemingly stuck inside of his flesh.

Alma waited for a while until the contraption was reset to its original state. "You did great, Midas."