The muted light of the cell was still enough to make the ancient gold coin shine.
He had searched for a hint to the lost city for years. Countless days in libraries pouring over scrolls, books, and hounding the poor keepers for more information. Then there were days he spent chasing down rumors in taverns, listening to merchant tales in smoke filled cantinas, and charming soldiers for stories with spiced rum.
His father had hoped he would follow in his footsteps, become a scholar to study the world through a detached academic but the first time he saw those old maps of forgotten lands he knew there was another life for him. He wouldn’t read about these places, he was destined to see them. Forget inspecting trinkets from trash piles, vast untouched riches called to him through the aged parchment. He would be the first living soul to walk those forgotten streets. Claiming the treasure and the adventure that led to those hidden places just happened to be perks.
Grave robbing, that was word his father had called his dream. The more romantically inclined people he met called him a treasure hunter, explorer or adventurer. Those with less poetic license him a bone snatching thief.
All those years studying his fathers’ books and learning dead languages had finally paid off. This one little coin was the key to it all.
Now that he was this close he just had to escape from jail, commandeer a ship, travel halfway across the world, and find a city that no one had seen in six hundred years.