by Collin Earl
*****
After unpacking his rigging, Dirk secured his line above the opening in the cliff. Slowly and methodically, he lowered himself down to the ledge at the mouth of the cave. Once he had good footing, he slackened his line, took a few steps into the cave, and started to unhook himself.
Now unhindered by his gear, he cautiously moved deeper into the space. His helmet lit up as the ambient light around him waned. He checked the section of the map that detailed the cavern. He knew there would be ancient catacombs that he would need to explore, but with the map Dirk was saved a heap of guesswork. He chose the entrance to a smaller tunnel leading off to the south and started to creep down the moist rock.
Using the forward-looking beam and cascading side and rear floodlights of his helmet to light the way, he wound down the dank path. Each time he passed an offshoot in the tunnel, he checked the map to ensure he was on the right course. Normally he would never have put so much faith in a map, but his tingling skin told him that he was close. And Dirk's skin never lied.
A number of slips, near tumbles, and a few falls later, he noticed the walls of the tunnel widening. He pressed forward, seeing the light of his helmet dim as the surrounding light grew. He walked upright into a large room with walls reaching ten meters into the air. Far above his head, cracks between rock formations allowed beams of daylight to illuminate random spots on the ground. He scanned the room, marveling at its construction, searching for the treasure that had brought him here. He passed over the smaller relics that lined the floor as he swept the room.
He smiled as he saw it. On the far side of the cavern, resting on a large outcropping of stone, Dirk saw what he had come for. Restraining the excitement that his electrified skin was igniting in his body, he moved across the room towards the relic. As he approached, he saw just how magnificent it was.
The gold of its hilt gleamed in the sunlight shining down from the ceiling. The jewel-encrusted guard was dusty but nevertheless shimmered each time his helmet light hit it. But what was beyond description was the blade of the large scimitar. He eyed it, studying the gloss of the metal. Steel? Dirk moved in closer. No, it was platinum! The blade was made of pure platinum! Dirk's skin did yet another little dance.
