Short story - The Leaf

“Here’s the leaf, and here’s the stone. Which one is it?”

The pink sky created a rather odd atmosphere. Adding a tinge of candy floss to what should be an intense situation. The leaf was no mere leaf. It was the golden leaf made of the powder of a hundred horns, embalmed with the sacred liquid of Takrut and treasured in secret for three millennia. The stone could stay. 

“The leaf.” said Mike.

“Ok. Take it. You have ten years. Not a second more.” said the warden of the plain of Two Horns. 

If Mike took the leaf, the task spliced into a hundred other problems. But he could also finally melt it.