Talk:Book One Chapter 1: Never to late/@comment-33246279-20171007060931/@comment-25227324-20171009223549

Yasmin: " WHOOHOO !!! This is AWESOME !!! "



A smile slipped itself over plushness of Nyma's lips as she and Yasmin both continued to surf the shifting plains of the desert. Nyma swayed her toughened arms back and forth as she guided the sands beneath the solid platforms the two of them stood upon. The fragile sands sifted in response to her every movement and her every leveled breath. Her bending skills weren't anywhere near expert level, but it was enough to defend herself and be useful. On the other hand, Yasmin wasn't much of a bender. Growing up as kids it was all her cousin wanted. The ability to create, the ability to become a bender! She always wanted to be a bender. It was all she had hoped for. Sadly, none of that played out. Yasmin grew older and the potential to sandbend ran slimmer. Eventually, she finally had to come to terms with being a nonbender. Nyma would be lying to herself if she said it didn't  make her a bit sad for Yasmin. Even now.

In the end, some things just aren't meant to be.

Yasmin: " Hey, Nimzii !? "

Nyma quickly blinked away the fog of her childhood memories. The boisterous sound of her cousin's voice ruptured her reminiscing and she spoke.

Nyma: " Yea ! What's up ?! "

Yasmin: " Put us in park over this next hill ! The temple is just up ahead. "

Nyma nodded. She lunged forwards with her arms extended straight ahead causing the sands under them to sift. Swinging them out to the side, the sands then propelled them down the side the hill with little to no resistance. Once at the base of the hill, Nyma place her right foot forwards firmly in the dirt. Their surfing calmly came to an end.

Yasmin: " Mmmm !! I can already taste the sweet sweet guava . . . "

While Yasmin daydreamed about her fruit, Nyma pounced off the falsified platform she used and landed with her bare feet in the sand. Yasmin did the same. The platforms instantly became brittle and rejoined with the sand. The two girls strode closer towards the abandoned building.



It was monumental ! The tall structure towered over them without shame as it stood proudly in the middle of the barren desert. Nyma glanced over the mud brick foundation and sundried scriptures. Each time the winds blew a hollow noise hummed through the decayed openings that caved in over the course of time. Beams were crippled and columns holding the structure together were already split with wear. The temple was eroding away. Its history crumbling like dust in the sand all around them. Nyma could feel it in the loose sand that gathered between her toes. It was only a matter of time before this structure crumbled altogether.

As they drew closer to the tall hollowed out double door entrance, she stopped. The sound of cloth flapping in the nearby distance caught her attention. The blooming teenager dared to turn her head and something stood out in Nyma's field of vision. She gasped.

Nyma: " Crap ! Yas, get down. "

Her voice receeded to a harsh whisper as she gripped hold of Yasmin's wrist and yanked her behind a collapsed pillar. Nyma placed her finger to her lips to silently tell her cousin to stay quiet. Stay very still. Her citrus irises peeked around the corner for confirmation. It was just as she suspected.



Nyma: " . . . Those are sand-sailors. "

Her lengthy long dark ebony locs swished about as she turned to face Yasmin. Her eyes were stern as she uttered her next words.The ornaments and feathers scattered in her hair stilled with her own movement.

Nyma: " Do not. Make. A sound. "

Yasmin's eyes shot wide and she threw her hands to cover her own mouth for insurance. The both of them remained crouched behind a fallen pillar. Nyma's eyelids lowered into a skeptical slant of sorts as she carefully observed the oncoming threat that was one of their sister tribes. _____________________________

'The Unfamiliar Threat. . . .'



They were here. The sand-saloirs came to a complete stop at the temple's steps, the winds that carried their sails dispersed and all around them stood still in total silence. One of the bandits, clad in heat protective robes, stepped down from the sailor and approached the base of the steps. He paused to examine the structure before turning away to call to his men.

Bandit Leader: " Alright sandslugs, get your butts in gear ! It's showtime. I want all everyone on their feet and unpacking. NOW. "

Bandits Collectively: "  Yes boss !!! "



On command, several of the bandits hopped off of the sand-sailors and began unloading what looked like equipment. Nyma glared at them with a piercing gaze as she did her best to make out what it was they were doing. She saw them carrying bundles of rope and wire. Some had with them, oil lamps, while others held picks and hammers in their grips. Just what were they up to ?



A few minutes later everything was unpacked and ready to go. The bandit leader stood proudly at the top of the stairs leading to the temple entrance. His arms were crossed behind his back. The flowing clothes of his robes blew frequently in the dry desert breeze, he had a mask to cover his face and shades to shield his eyes from the sun.

Bandit Leader: "  Listen up ! I brought you all here because this request relies on the strength of many. This hunt is going to be more tasking and more dangerous than our normal raids. What we are looking for is highly valuable. Others have tried to excavate it, but all have failed. It is our job to extract it from this pile of dirt. If we succeed, the buyer is willing to pay a substantial fee on top of what was originally promised for all who participate. "



The collective sum of the sandbender bandits began to murmur and gasp at the new information.

Bandit Leader: " This job is our biggest one yet. No mistakes ! We cannot fail. Do I make myself clear ? "

The bandits all complied.

Bandit Leader: " Good. Now, let's go get our hands dirty !!! "

He cackled deeply as his fist cut through the air and his men followed suit. All of them climbed the temple steps with a fierce determination. Each of there footsteps dissipated into the darkness lingering in the entrance doorway. It was quiet again.

_____________________________

'A few moments later. . . .'

Nyma: " Okay, they're gone. I think we should leave. "

Yasmin: " No, we can't ! We're already here. "

Nyma: " Yas, you saw them. Those were members of the Yani tribe. They're pirates !! And that means they are dangerous. Now, let's go. "

Nyma began to walk away when Yasmin interjected.

Yasmin: " No, we gotta go in there. Don't you wanna see what they were talking about ? This could be huge ! "

Nyma: " It could be deadly. "

Nyma countered matter-of-factly.

Yasmin: " Grrrrrrr . . . I want those guava fruits and I'm gonna get them, even if I have to do it myself ! "

Yasmin grimaced and bolted inside of the temple.

Nyma: " YASMIN !? Danggit . . . "



She spat beneath her breath at her younger cousin's impulsiveness. With fear tingling on the edge of her neck hairs and her conscience nagging her to no end. . . Nyma reluctantly entered the temple in search for her cousin, her bare feet leading her with no sense of direction.