Ruins of Palen (Stories on a Theme – “Weak”)

“Finally,” Casei said, resting her hand on her knees as she caught her breath, “we’re here.”

Sam snorted next to her. Casei glared at him.

“What,” Sam remarked, pulling off his gloves and taking a drink out of his water bottle, “it’s another three hours to Palen from here.

“We’re in the outer edges of the ruins though,” Casei said, “we’re at the basin, Sam. That’s basically there.”

Yeh, she knew there was a three hour walk left. She could just about see the tops of the Palen spires sticking out from the top of the forest that cascaded throughout the basin below them. It was miles yet.

But it would be worth it when they got there and found the lost Gemstones of Palen. When Sam and Casei were the ones to return the Gemstones home to their rightful place in the Islands of Azorde.

They’d be classed as heroes in the history books. Like the great Explorers Trayat and Imoar.

I bet Trayat had an easier time thought, Casei thought. At least Trayat explored the relatively safe Seas of Azorde. At least he wasn’t working behind enemy lines without any hint of being rescued.

“Come on,” Sam said, holding out his hand, “let’s get moving. We can make a few more miles before we make camp.”

Always Sam keeping them going. What would she do with out him?

“You’re always right you know that,” Casei said, taking Sam’s hand and allowing him to help pull her upright. By Zanak, her feet ached.

“Try to be,” he smiled at her, “come on, Palen won’t wait forever.

“Palen has waited for three hundred years,” Casei remarked, “it can wait for five more minutes.”

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