The two slowly ground into life, the sound of stone on stone echoed in the chamber. On the left the alabaster figure raised a sword in its closed fist, dust raining from finely carved feathered wings. On the right, the obsidian figure raised a mace that shone in the dim light cast by the torch. Polished shards falling onto the sand choked floor as glass wings scraped the ceiling.

“None may enter the treasury of Deyru Kiyyun.”

Rephan raised a finger, etching out the sign that would shred the Qliphoth that animated the guardians. The two slowed, then toppled, shattering into a thousand pieces.

The door on the far wall creaked open, revealing the chamber beyond. Desicated fragments of once magnificent chests littered the floor. The room had long since been looted by Kiyyun himself in his attempt to escape the mob.

Rephan had paid dearly for any clues to its location, hoping that the long dead Deyru had been too rushed to have taken everything.

He cast his eyes about the door for traps and stepped inside.