Karysh Al'Dain - The purse of unpaid debts

Ahmad, a minor scribe whose minor fortune was built on fudged ledgers, had used the small, unassuming coin purse for years. It was utterly unremarkable - a shallow disc of worn leather, tied with a simple thong. He thought little of it, using it to stash his coins as everyone would do.   Over time, Ahmad committed his betrayals. A whisper to ruin a rival's shipment, a forgery to secure a plot of land, a harsh lie told to avoid a repayment promised. With each offense, he would slip his earnings into the purse. It would fill, then shrink again as he spent the money. The only thing different was that sometimes, when he reached in for another copper coin, the soft lining rasped against his skin like the dry, stiff parchment.   One day, Ahmad, greed in his eyes committed his greatest sin: betraying a lifelong friend for a small, inherited house. He was paid in full,twenty hard silver coins that shone cold and heavy in the sun. He slipped them into the purse, his fingers stuffing coin after coin into the pouch.   He paused. The purse was not full, nor had anything changed, yet he felt a sudden, profound emptiness in his gut. There was nothing out of the ordinary, yet the air was heavy, charged with a silence that seemed to press in on his lungs. Looking around, there was nothing out of the ordinary.
His shoulders slumped in relief when from within the pouch, a sound emerged. It was not a voice, but a sharp, resonant metallic ring, like a gavel of iron striking a bronze block.   And then came the whisper. It was ancient, the sound of scales rasping on sand, chillingly dry, and vibrating up through his bone in perfect clarity:

"The debts are tallied."