Chapter One: A Silent Challenge
An ocean of fiery oranges and golden yellows spanned out into the horizon. Every wave was tall, curved to perfection, and shimmered boldly under the hot mid-noon sun. If anything, it was a beautiful. A storm captured vividly in a painting; and like a painting, it was frozen in time. The desert was a sea of sand, but it's arching waves never crashed nor crumpled into a far away beach; they remained tall and strong, unchanging to the people who looked upon their endless numbers.
Amidst the raging, yet frozen sea of painted sand, a proud city built of stone, marble and a small amount of wood, stood just as strong. If the desert were truly alive, this city would be the heart. Then the river adjacent to the city would be the aorta—carrying the blood through the desert to keep it alive. Yet, without the heart, the river--the very blood of the land--would be useless.
Zamir was the center of life for all the people of the desert; ruled by High Pharaoh Almasy. The man was to be feared, and envied at the same time. No enemy could stand against his ruthlessness, and bitter taste for vengeance. Regardless of the fear he put into the hearts of every man, the people envied their Pharaoh for the way he took care of his city. They never went hungry, or thirsty. His wrath may have been great, but his people surely did not show it.
The Pharaoh's rule had prolonged that of most others. There would soon come a time when the High Pharaoh would pass his position of power down, onto his only son, Seifer Almasy.
Zamir: Rock Quarry
A whipped cracked, as noticeable as a roar of thunder. Heads turned momentarily to see who was being punished this time. A dozen pairs of eyes caught a glimpse then resumed their impassive gaze at the shifting sand below their steadily marching feet.
Seifer was the only one who did not look away. Jade eyes watched blankly as a guard shouted at a fallen slave, striking the man's bare back with a short whip. The slave shuddered physically before meekly reaching out to pick up the hard, white stones that had fallen from the basket on his back.
It serves the man right, Seifer thought with a smug smirk; the slave should have been watching where he was walking. It was his own fault that he tripped and fell, spilling out his burden before the feet of a watchful guard.
Seifer turned away to view the rest of the works. He brushed a hand through his soft, golden blonde hair. The servant beside him moved to shade Seifer's vivid green eyes from the glaring sun. He glowed, literally; the sun splashed over his evenly tanned skin, his perfect coloring rivaling that of the painted desert. The rays of light glinted off the gold necklaces adorning his neck. Matching pieces of beautiful, yet heavy metal encircled both of his upper arms, heightening the appearance of well toned muscles. A single gold signet ring flashed on his right hand; two silver bands on the left.
The sun played over the young bare torso, clearly muscled to a state of longed perfection. Seifer was a God, or as close to one as a human could possibly hope to achieve. Once the fateful day comes when he becomes a Pharaoh, then Seifer would be the very bridge between mankind and the Gods; just one step closer to becoming a deity.
A smug smirk appeared on his lips. Seifer arrogantly placed both hands on his hips and surveyed the workers. The slaves *cough* workers were moving rocks from the quarry. It was a slow, tiring process—and that was just from watching. Each and every one of those rocks was a different size, had a different location, and a different purpose.
So boring. Seifer mused while dusting away imaginary dust from the white linen loincloth-skirt mix that covered everything from his waist to a little above his knees. He blinked curiously down at his bare feet before snorting irritably. His father had set him down here to oversee the work; make sure it all went smoothly. What a ridiculous notion. How difficult was it to move rocks from point A to point B? These people didn't need to be supervised! Perhaps punished here and there, but obviously they did not need a noble figure, such as himself, watching their every move. And if they did, it was certainly a one-man job. Yet, Seifer had these personal guards trailing him—barely a breath away. They were beginning to suffocate him.
"You—" Seifer had hardly muttered the words before the guards all tensed, showing they were ready for orders, "—go over there. Those men don't look like they are working hard enough."
The guards immediately marched off to the said men. Seifer repressed a sigh of relief; finally, room to breath. He eyed the servant beside him that was shading his face. A short girl with white hair and crimson eyes; those very ethereal looks had won the girl freedom from slavery in the rock quarry, to a life of servitude within the palace. Seifer faintly smiled at her, but dropped the expression as soon as it appeared. Fujin was her name, a servant of very few words, but quite the defiance—Seifer liked when the people around him were not completely compliant or passive. It gave him a challenge, and Seifer always loved a good challenge.
"Go get me something to drink," a simple order. Fujin hesitated a moment before leaving Seifer's side. He immediately regretted sending the girl away. The sudden sight of the sun temporarily blinded him. Hissing, Seifer raised an arm to cover his eyes. The piercing sun was just a small annoyance to endure in order to be standing on his own two feet without company of servants or guards. He was quite capable of taking care of himself.
Slowly Seifer's eyes adjusted to the light. Blinking a few times, the blonde found himself staring at an approaching palanquin. Four young men, that were overly dressed for just a walk outside the palace walls, were effortlessly carrying it. Seifer didn't have to look through the white silk curtains to know what royal figure sat inside.
"What is the reason for this rare, and wonderful encounter—or is the pleasure of this meeting all mine?" Seifer called out sarcastically as the palanquin came to a halt a foot or two out of reach.
"Just a simple stroll," a soft feminine voice floated out from behind the curtains. There was the faint clinking of jewelry as the occupant moved inside.
"My dear cousin, I had no idea you enjoy the sights of slaves working," Seifer drawled while arching an inquisitive brow. He wanted to sneer, but he knew better to act rudely to this 'cousin' while in public view.
"Hm.. I enjoy the view very much," came the casual, suggestive reply.
"Rinoa, I highly suggest you return to the comforts of your room. That kind of game is not appreciated here," Seifer warned as he watched a delicate hand reach forward to part the curtains just enough to peek a view towards the workers.
Rinoa was a cousin visiting from a kingdom further south. She was beautiful—or Seifer had been told; he never cared to judge since she was family. Not really family, Seifer didn't consider anyone on his mother's side to be real family. Those people were not pharaohs, just noblemen. But surely, without a doubt, Rinoa had the look and aura of royalty. She had long, straight ebony hair that circled her slender shoulders; flawless, fair skin that covered every inch of her body. Then there was her eyes, dark brown and inviting. And of course there was her body, which Seifer absolutely refused to look at because of the seductive curves.
Seifer noticed movement behind the curtains. The immediate image of Rinoa sliding one sleek thigh over the other popped into his mind. He shuddered and looked away from the palanquin. Rinoa was a seductress; she knew exactly what she was doing. Seifer despised her too much to ever take an interest. She just caused trouble for him. But most of all, Seifer loathed the way Rinoa would order his servants around to do tasks for her. Who cares if she is some sort of sorceress? Seifer was closer to the Gods than she could hope to achieve. She was simply a tool for the Gods, and would never walk among them.
"What is your new object of affection?" Seifer sneered, focusing his gaze where his guards were harassing a few workers. Any distraction would serve as to get his mind off of the palanquin hovering next to him.
"That man," came the vague response.
"I see a lot of men. Be more specific," Seifer retorted as he assessed the situation before him. Jade eyes played over the two workers and three guards. A fairly amusing scene had been going on moments before, but Seifer had been too disgusted with Rinoa to watch.
There was a short brown haired girl dressed in a dusty tunic and short combo that hardly covered her skinny frame. She was currently being held back by another worker, a slightly taller blonde man with hair that rose up in an arch of small spikes, it reminded Seifer of a the crest of a rooster. He was well muscled, but his back riddled with white intercrossing lines, and age-old scars telling everyone exactly where that man's place was; under the whip of higher authority to be blunt. The girl was currently clutching a rock and waving it menacingly at one of the guards. From where he stood, Seifer could hear the yelling of the girl's high-pitched voice.
"If you ever EVER touch me again I will bash—" The girl was cut off by the blonde man cupping a hand over her mouth. The guards were laughing, and Seifer managed to let out a few chuckles as well.
"Fancy short blondes?" Seifer glanced back to the palanquin, a smirk of slight amusement mixed with disgust curving at the corner of his lips.
"No. Do you see the man with the eyes.."
"As apposed to the other men I see who also have eyes," Seifer muttered while looking a second time. I see a chicken. Yes, he has eyes. My guards. I'm sure they have eyes as well. This is a waste of my ti---
Jade clashed with storm blue-gray. It was only for a second. Seifer scanned the bodies, trying to find the pair of eyes he had just seen. How could a storm disappear so quickly? One of the guards moved back a step, and Seifer caught a glimpse of a lithe chest only broken by a pair of arms crossed over one another in a stance of arrogance. The guard moved back into place, blocking Seifer's view.
Curiously Seifer glanced to the white curtains and then he began to move to see around the bulk guard. It took a moment to pick out the man. He had dark brown locks that fell haphazardly over a pair of down cast eyes that Seifer just knew would be the eerie shade of gray. There was something strange about this man. Seifer looked over him a few times letting his curiosity grow a bit more with each intake of detail.
"He has no scars.." Seifer muttered as his eyebrows knitted together in thought. The man had smooth, flawless skins, not at all like the rest of the workers. Since when did a slave not have a whip mark or two? Was he new—or what did it matter if he was? This man was a slave, and he just happened to be lucky enough to avoid being lashed. Seifer rolled his eyes back to the palanquin. "What's your point?"
"I like him," Rinoa responded in a light tone while letting the parted curtains fall back into place.
Seifer sneered. What an outrageous statement. This man was a slave. He deserved nothing better than to lick the dirt off the bottom of Seifer's shoes. Scars of no scars—and there was most likely marks on the man's back where Seifer couldn't see them. Again, the man was a slave, and the very idea of a noble figure fancying a slave (at least out of secret) was revolting.
Jade eyes began to flicker with an angry flame. Seifer turned the fiery gaze onto the palanquin, willing the curtains to burn away with the very look. The corner of Seifer's lip was curled up in a snarl. "Tell me that you are just playing some cruel joke."
Rinoa laughed, "No, I think he'd make a lovely addition to the palace."
"You are not in a position to do such a thing," Seifer spoke through clenched teeth.
"Oh, I am and I will," Rinoa replied curtly, "He will fit in nicely. You won't even notice him. After all, he has no scars and—"
"—I can change that," Seifer spat while shifting his eyes to the guards. It took him a moment for Seifer to spot the brunet; it seemed that the man could blend into the background quite well. He drew no attention to himself, yet when Seifer laid eyes on him, the man stood out like a full moon.
"Seize that man!" Seifer shouted while looking directly at the brunet. The guards jumped at once and reached forward to seize the short blonde. "No! The other man—there, look!"
The guards looked blindly around the scene before seizing the unscarred brunet. Seifer smirked, pleased with himself. He looked triumphedly towards the palanquin upon hearing Rinoa sit up in alarm. Seifer didn't even look at the guards as they approached with the apprehended man. "Whip him. This man was avoiding work."
"No!" The outburst did not come from Rinoa, which Seifer had expected. Instead it came from the petite brown haired girl.
"Quiet Selphie or they'll whip you too," the blonde worker hissed while continuing to physically restrain the girl.
"No Zell! They can't do that to him! He didn't do anything!" The girl, Selphie, argued while continuing to struggle against her captor.
Seifer wore a self-satisfied smirk, retaining his gaze on Rinoa's palanquin. "Do it. Now. Twenty lashes."
Two guards seized an arm and shoulder each and then moved to stand stationary at the brunet's sides. The third guard unhooked a small leather whip from his waist and raised the weapon high above his head.
"Stop," Rinoa halted the guards actions with her most authoritive tone of voice, "If you so much as bruise him I will make sure you suffer a fate worse than any slave."
All eyes were now focused on the thin white curtains. The guards were glancing between Seifer and Rinoa, debating whom to obey. Even the two slaves were staring, waiting to see the fate of their friend.
"Take him to the palace. Give him some servant garments. I want him to be ready by the time I return," Rinoa broke the silence with the crisp orders.
Seifer ruffled at the woman's words. There she was again, ordering his men around. The guards were looking expectantly at their Prince. Seifer gave a curt nod to agree with Rinoa's orders. Fine, he would play her stupid little game. Seifer settled his eyes on the brunet as he was being carried away. It was a surprise, however, to find the seized man glaring hatefully back at him. Seifer smirked at the storm brewing in a sea of blues and grays. Yes, Seifer would agree to this pathetic arrangement. He'd get Rinoa back for this disgrace. He would win at her sad little game of power.
The brunet was hauled away, leaving Seifer to smirk at Rinoa's palanquin. He could feel her smiling back at him, probably thinking she had won.
You may have won this battle, but the war has just started, Seifer thought as he watched the palanquin march off towards the palace. He let the smirk turn into an irate sneer. Turning on the workers that were staring speechless, Seifer found a piece of his arrogant self regained. "Get back to work."
