The man, who had come to kill me, forced me at dagger point into my treasure room. He glanced about at the chests of gold coins, the small silver statues with gems for eyes, jewelry of all kinds displayed in glass cases. A sealed vase with some glowing, swirling light within caught his eye.
“Is this it?” he demanded, picking it up and holding the vase over his head, “Is this your secret?” The vase hurtled toward the ground, smashing with a flash of light leaving behind a smoke cloud. I said nothing. He glowered at me and looked around the room.
A large intricate golden amulet on a sitting alone in its own box attracted him. He smiled and laughed, “How foolish of you to put this on display.” He smashed the case, pulled out the amulet, dropped it to the ground, and stomped on it until the gems flew from it and its face was disfigured. Again I said nothing.
In the back of the room, a painting of myself as a slightly younger man drew his eye. “Is this it? Is this the source of your power?” he asked a dagger pressed against the canvas. I drew a breath to respond but he slashed at the painting until it was nothing but ribbons of color.
He screamed his rage at me, “Why won’t you die?!”
I stood then, brushed the dirt from my pants, and said, “Do you really think I would keep the item that has given me immortality in room like this?”
“Then what is all of this?” he said picking up a clay pot from a pedestal and smashing it.
“These fake magical items are bait.” I pulled a lever to seal the door. From the wall I pull a sword and said, “And this is a trap.”