The Sword in the Cave
Yan-Ko of the Silver Straits,
and Eör the Hidden City.
And in the great noon of their days, the world had peace and plenty, and men honored the gods."
-The Sacred History of Cevalon, Chapter IV, verses 15-21
Tygg, of course, had not abandoned Drea after all. After she went back to the village, Tygg remained, lurking at the
edge of the woods, observing the movements of the women. Everything he saw confirmed his suspicions. They did
not eat a meal, nor engage in any kind of mutual activity. They disappeared to their huts without a word, and nearly
all at once, the lanterns winked out. There was nothing human in this village. Drea was walking into a trap.
And Gerla help the trap, he thought, expressing the extent of his concern. He knew there was another mystery to
unfold here. He further knew Drea could take care of herself. Possibly even take care of the sailors. He would be
more useful uncovering the deception that endangered them. So, after the women marched forth, and Drea and the
sailors followed, Tygg crept back into the village. The air smelled exactly as it had the previous night, with the same
weird scent in the air, and the same coldness. He came to the huts and walked into one of them.
There was bare floor, and a pallet of blankets, and nothing else. Not even trinkets or decorations, nothing that
suggested a person called this home. Not even gourds or cups or baskets for gathering, or bows for hunting. There
was nothing that a woman might use to survive in the world. Just a floor, and blankets. Tygg kicked the blankets
aside, to see if something was hidden. Nothing was.
He repeated this pattern in several of the huts and found the same result. There was nothing, and though this
nothing gave credence to his suspicions, they did not give proof. Unable to tell any difference between any huts by
size or color to denote a hierarchy, he gave up and came to the hearth where the previous night's ritual had been
held. He looked at its brick for some sign or rune but everything was bare. Then he stood upon the lip and looked
around him for a better view of the village. He saw nothing of note. He walked around the lip of the hearth, but no
matter where he stood, every part of the village looked the same. The same distance of huts greeted him. The doors
all facing the same way, turning around him as he walked. Stranger and stranger and yet...
The center.
Tygg walked off the brick and into the oversized hearth itself. He stepped on a few logs, which gave way under his
weight, and he kicked a few others, and he grabbed a partially unburnt branch and he began do scrape and kick
everything away from the center. The Ash was dark grey and thick but it was soft, and before long Tygg's stick had
touched something that was neither ash nor wood. He scraped the harder and then saw a glint of metal. His hand
reached down and --
Tygg's head shot up. Before him a pair of eyes in a dark cloak stared with deep and silent menace. He turned his
head and saw another, and another. All around the hearth, the women stood.
"Do not speak," said Tygg. "We know each other now. I am a thief and you..."
A strange rumble sounded in the distance.