Anticipation...

I finished brushing off the debris from the massive stone table and cast aside the worn out pine branch that I used to finish it. Maybe ten minutes had passed since Cerrydwen disappeared back into the woods, but I couldn’t be sure.

It seemed more like an eternity.

I knelt down beside the duffle bag, unzipped it, and pulled out the smaller of the two urns.

This was the urn that was inscribed with the ancient image of Tiamat, a seven-headed sea serpent. It was about the size of a bowling ball, but more oblong in shape. It was cast out of bronze, now weathered badly. The cuneiform inscriptions along the bottom of the image of Tiamat were worn almost to the point of being indecipherable, but as I looked at the words formed by the strange markings, their meaning crystallized in my mind-- “This vessel contains the remains and the immortal soul of Madeena, servant of Tiamat, consort of Dracaar. Cursed is he who disturbs the sentence of this criminal.”

As those words turned in my mind, I set that urn up on the stone table, reaching down to pull the other, larger one out of the bag. The second urn was not decorated in any fashion, no stylized images of serpents, gods, or creatures graced this thing, yet as I held it, it felt heavier, more...important.

Despite the lack of ornamentation, this urn was also inscribed with cunieform markings that spelled out a dire warning-- “Cursed is the bloodline of he who breaks the seal on this vessel. Doom, Death and Destruction to any who violate4 this sacred seal.”

I set the second urn up on the stone table as well and stood facing them, contemplating what actually would happen when they were opened. I felt a small chill deep inside. The anticipation was horrible...

(Dear readers--my apologies for the small post, but circumstances this week have prevented me from writing further. Look for a burst of posts to take place starting Thursday, May 11.--DSP)