It was over, her life and her torture. The young girl gazed into the scorching rays of the blazing sun. She did not fear whatever befell her now; she no longer cared or had the effort to defend herself. The many grains of blindingly gold sand proved to be such a nice warm bed, if not a tad bit gritty. If the scene were to be viewed from high up in the air, one would say that she was a glittering pearl, a jewel in the rough.
Shifting, so that her entire body faced the sun, she closed her sapphire eyes and willed for sleep to overcome her. Her flowing white locks of hair, slightly tinged with a hint of blue and sticky remnants of blood, enshrouded her pale form. It too, like her body, embraced and kissed the sand.
Already, her parched throat and scabbed wounds from before were becoming unbearable to her intolerance of pain. It seemed that her slavers previous to her barely successful escape did a great number on her. Silently, she prayed for a god to take her, if only just to give her unconsciousness before awakening to find her punishment grow tenfold. A blissful smile made its way across her unnaturally pale face; it was time for her to rest.
"Oi, you little wench," a gruff voice interrupted her fleeting thoughts.
Perhaps she was going delusional? It wouldn't be the first time that a person would lose all sane thought before passing on in the desert. Many times before, the girl had witnessed people who were dehydrated who later saw or heard things they claimed were real. She accepted that deduction and remained prone on the sand.
"Get up!" The voice rudely ordered.
Hmm, her mid must be very imaginative today due to a lack of water. How could she have imagined such a rude person would come rescue her? In reality, people would often take one glance at her pale skin, blue eyes, and shining hair before deeming her an uncouth monster. So, instead of heeding that imaginary voice that she had concocted, she proceeded to get ready to go to sleep. Besides, with the little strength that she still possessed would do no good for her to start moving anyway.
All sane thoughts were dashed away as she felt blessed cold liquid splash her face. Shivering mightily, she did not hesitate to open her mouth and eyes to lap up the cold substance. Despite her refusal to carry on in life, a little voice in her head told her that it was not the end. Good instincts were vital to reside in Khemet, and she thought she could trust the boy to have not poisoned the water.
When she had finished the meager supply of water, she turned to her savior, eyes squinting against the strain of the sun.
"What are you looking at girly," the boy demanded as he put away his water flask onto his horse. It whinnied before dusking its head while the girl could only gaze on in fear.
With a wild mane of pure white hair, blood red eyes, and bronzed skin, he appeared to be a demon. As much as the girl would like to run as fast as she could—realistically, she couldn't, the strain would be too much because of malnourishment—she felt a surge of gratitude for him.
"Stupid, you should be thanking me for sharing my precious water," he snarled. Now that the girl had a better sense of the situation, she could see that he was about the same age as her, fourteen. His eerie red eyes raked her bloodied figure, causing her to cringe and blush. "And what happened to you? You're not an escaped slave are you?" Malice and a hint of something else were heard in his voice, causing her to break free from her shocked silence.
"Y-yes, sir," she stuttered, partly from dry throat and partly by the fact that he's staring right into her soul.
"They wouldn't happen to be still looking for you?" Ah, she knew that dark light that had come across his face, she knew it so well. Since she was technically a slave, an item to be pawned over, she could be easily sold to another slave trader. Thus, she would be a great benefit to this boy. From the looks of things, he was an outcast too, but he had a power within himself, a strong will that would enable him to survive anywhere.
Fearing that he would sell her when he got the chance, she slightly cowered from the bloody gaze. "Please, j-just kill me that's all I ask," she begged, her sapphire eyes becoming misty in tears.
In disgust, the white haired boy turned away from her and grunted.
"Pfft, your sniveling, worthless blood doesn't deserve to be spilt on my dagger," he grumbled. Emotions, helplessness and hopelessness, were now welling in her chest, even more tears were spilling out of her eyes, causing the boy to jump off his horse. She was faintly surprised when he held a tanned hand out her, a stony look on his complexion.
"Take it, before I slit your throat," he ordered.
Frightened that he would do such a thing, she took his hand and hastily stood up.
However, because she stood up so quickly, all the blood rushed up to her head, a side effect from staying in the sun for too long and no water for what seemed to be an eternity. Not only that, but she also began seeing dark spots in her vision. Gasping in horror, she reached out for something to balance her.
"Girly, if you wish to rob me, do it while you're not about to faint." Although her vision was slowly degrading and she felt edges of her mind going fuzzy, she thought she could detect amusement in his tone. Then again, that humor was still overshadowed by his gruffness and ability to be really intimidating.
The white haired girl felt warm arms encircle her waist and gently lifted her onto the horse. Seeing that she would need to hang on tight to survive the journey, she nervously clutched the horse's mighty neck.
"Y-you're not—"
"As soon as you get better, you will leave. I have no use for you; you're more likely to drain me of my resources."
Even though the youth had pretty much insulted her, she felt hope rekindle in her chest. Nonetheless, she felt a question that she needed to get answered above others before sleep would engulf her.
"Why are you helping me," she murmured into the horse's musky neck.
Even though she did not witness it, the boy's red eyes turned away from her vulnerable form. Clearly, there was embarrassment on his face, although he did his best not to show it.
"The desert has an abundance of corpses," he muttered mostly to himself as he began leading his horse," I'm merely stealing from her." Silence, except for the heavy breathing of the horse and the occasional winds could be heard before the lad spoke again. "Don't think you mean anything to me, you don't."
Maybe it was the heat, the glare of the sun, or the hypnotizing rhythm that the horse displayed that made her smile. Nevertheless, she knew she could trust this mysterious boy.
Yawning, she managed to speak before the darkness could welcome her.
"My name is Kisara."
"Such a bold name for one so weak," she could hear him sneer. He paused a moment before he answered the question. "The name's Akefia."
As the sun's bright rays beat mercilessly on their bodies, Kisara drifted off to sleep.
The story takes place a few years before the whole business of Atem, Zorc, etc.
I'm not sure if I like this one. I tried my best, but I think I failed. XD So yeah, read and review please.
