Vaan

 

Vaan was banking on the optimistic reading.

 

After all, deciphering poetry fragments written before his grandfather's grandfather had even been conceived, collecting multicolored gems from increasingly ludicrous hiding places scattered across the desert, and then slotting them into the correct order of sockets in an ancient stone carving was enough effort that the result had better damn well not be another booby trap. It wasn't that every previous exploding treasure chest and secret pitfall and spring-loaded dart was especially harrowing on its own, but taken as a combined value, it was rather exhausting. Vaan had already used up a good third of his stock of potions patching up wounds from the and the monsters lurking in between the traps, because of course there were monsters in the ruin. There were always monsters in ruins.

 

This time, the sound was not a trap, but rather a door opening. The entire carving had depressed into the wall, a massive circular indentation covered in nearly-indecipherable glyphs and illustrations, before rolling aside ponderously to reveal a dark and cavernous chamber beyond. Vaan grinned to himself as he noticed something shining within, just outside the light cast by his torch. That would be his prize.

 

As soon as he cleared the doorway, he realized what an idiotic assumption that was. By torchlight, the vague gleam proved not to be that of any treasure, but that of a sword, carried by what must have been its owner when it was still alive. As the skeleton swung the blade at him, Vaan couldn't help but question the wisdom of any civilization that buried its rulers along with their old weapons.

 

There was no time to unsheath a proper weapon. Hopping back a half-pace, he parried the attack with the torch itself. An opponent who still had eyes in their head might have shown him a look of proper bewilderment, but much to Vaan's chagrin, this was a skeleton. Both gave as good as they got, matching torch against blade as the hume tried to force his way into the burial chamber and the undead creature tried to block him out. 

 

Without a sword in hand, however, he was not going to be able to do anything more than fend off the monstrosity's attacks, and as long as he was carrying the torch, trying to ready his weapon was only going to put him at his opponent's mercy. He was going to have to do something risky.

 

If the skeleton was surprised that Vaan disengaged from their match and paced backwards, it didn't show on its face. Nor did any outward surprise register when he threw the torch directly at it. Though anything flammable in the undead's raiment had long since rotted away, it still reacted to the surprise assault like any living person would have- and that was enough for Vaan. Quickly unsheathing his sword with his now-free hand, he lunged for his foe, striking a decisive blow and snapping off its surprisingly brittle hand with what was meant to be slashing motion.

 

Unarmed as it was, against a man with a sword, the skeleton was hardly any threat. It wasn't one of the Pharos' abominations- just a long-dead king with a little too much lingering regret to move on. Had it not tried to kill Vaan, he might have actually pitied it, but as it stood, he was more than happy to leave it in a crumpled pile of bones at the threshold to its former tomb.

 

Retrieving the torch but keeping his sword at the ready- it wouldn't hurt to be cautious- he pressed further in. Surely, this would be where the proper treasures would be unveiled.