Gikka has gotten into the bad habit of sticking her hands where they don't belong. Something shiny ends up being something that needs fast treatment, and faster prayers, to save her from losing that hand. Sometimes even a thief needs to learn to be prudent. -- Lessons
Certain words, chained together in a specific way, are a guarantee of doom. In this case, it was Gikka peering into a crevice and saying, "Hey there's something shiny in there!"
Wraithvine said, "It should probably stay there," but it was already too late.
The sticky-fingered little Kobold had decided to attach herself to something shiny. In these kinds of dungeons, a gewgaw like that could only be one of a few things: a load-bearing artifact[1], part of a soon-to-be very unwilling creature[2], or deeply, deeply cursed.
The limited good news was that the cave didn't start quaking, nor did anything start roaring. Which had to mean it was the third option.
It was not a positive sign that Gikka didn't need to talk to it.
"See?" she said, holding it aloft. "It's just a weird glowing rock. Except... it's not so glowy in the light..."
Wraithvine, who had seen empires die in fiery cataclysms, realised what it could be. "Drop it. NOW!"
"But it's shiny and it's mine and I like it."
Wraithvine didn't wait to argue any further, just knocked it out of Gikka's grasp with the butt of a summoned stick. The rock landed in a puddle of mud, which began to steam.
"Hey!"
"That's a very dangerous kind of shiny," warned Wraithvine, showing Gikka where the stick had burned. And, for that matter, where the skin of her hand had swollen with welts.
"Ow? It should hurt.... Why didn't it hurt?"
"It killed the sensory nerves in your hand first. You'll feel a phantom pain in a week or two, but for now..." It was a complicated spell and involved lead, iodine, blue dye, and a banana. Among many other things. Some of which were so obscure that only Wraithvine knew what they were.
Ze made Gikka drink an assortment of potions as ze performed several truly intense prayers that were also a part of the process. A long, and arduous process that finished in the early hours of the next day.
"Anything that can only be seen glowing in the dark is a danger," panted Wraithvine. "Especially in ancient ruins of a mighty and forgotten civilisation. That 'shiny rock' was a power source that still eats flesh and bakes clay long after the original users were done with it."
Gikka had put a wad of cotton on the end of the stick and watched as it burst into flames near the gemstone of contention. "What in the world did they use that for? Weapons?"
"No. They used it to power their machines, light their homes, and warm their food. More or less." Wraithvine managed to conjure some thick lead sheeting. "That is something vile, now. It and anything like it needs to be contained. For everyone's safety." Cautious, as if trying to sneak up on it, the immortal Wizard scooped the danger rock into the lead and sealed that into a ball. "With luck, and the will of the gods, you may still have your hand, next month."
Gikka stared at her bandaged hand. "What are you going to do with that?"
"Banish it to the heart of a star," said Wraithvine. "Or the core of the world. Either way, it shall be far, far out of reach."
One less danger. And one more fool who had learned better.
[1] The one shiny thing in the temple/dungeon/tower that, once removed from its place, brings the whole thing crashing down. Preferably on the adventurers who were trying to seal it.
[2] Which is also hungry and likes Adventurer A La Proximitee.
[Photo by Marek Piwnicki on Unsplash]
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