Disclaimer: I don't own Rishid, Malik, or the psychotically traumatic story line in which they are entangled.
If I did, Rishid would have his own solo gig...
AN: This has been in my mind for eons and is only now seeing the light of day. It's not quit finished yet because I seem to have a severe case of writers block but I hope to have it done by the end of the month. The first half is from Rishid's point of view and the second half is from Malik's. Any kind of feedback is welcome, even the negative, so please leave comments if any come to mind.
Sorry if Malik seems a bit out of character, I'm not particularly fond of him, so I had a hard time getting in his head.Besides, it's scary there.
Serenity
'As I sit here and slowly close my eyes
I take another deep breath and feel the wind pass through my body.'
Rishid sighed as he stared out the window of yet another strange hotel room. His thoughts turned inward as he caught small glimpses into people's lives as they walked along the street below him. His master's quest for world domination was pure madness, he knew it all too well, but what was he to do? He had sworn on his adoptive mother's death bed that he would protect her son and he put this promise before his very life on numerous occasions.
"What are you thinking about?"
Rishid started at the sound of his master's voice hailing from the doorway as it's owner gazed at him confusedly.
"It is nothing, Master Malik. I was only reflecting on the past."
Malik shrugged but said nothing as he stalked over to his bed and flopped down on it. He grabbed the TV remote on the bedside table and turned on the small television, searching for something to entertain him.
Disinterested by the television Rishid returned his attention to the window. He caught sight of a young child outside of a department store, throwing a horrific tantrum. His parents argued with him in a failing attempt to get him under control. As the child lashed out Rishid was brutally reminded of his master's darker side. The memory of of his master's eyes filled with cruel, murderous intent, flared up from the depths of his memory and he shuddered.
Malik was a most unfortunate soul, his dark destiny was lay out for him even before birth. The harshness of this fact had been too much for the child. It left his mind and soul in shards, creating the dark, alternate personality that still haunted Rishid's nightmares.
'I'm the one in your soul, reflecting inner light
and every day I hold you, cradling your inner child.'
While it may have been Malik's destiny to be broken, it was Rishid's destiny to strive to make him whole. Why this was, Rishid couldn't even guess. He was the only one that could keep his brother's demons from taking hold of him. He lived to this end, for fate had been a cruel mistress, but in his mind the means were more than justified.
But even as he thought this, a nagging question called from the back of his mind. Did he really feel that way? Was every terrible, unspeakable act he performed in the name of his master truly just? As he watched life passing peacefully by below him he was unsure. He was in the thick of something he knew could never come to anything good. Did this make him evil? The presence of endless doubt seemed to consume him, and he wanted to scream with the agony of it's crushing weight.
'I need serenity, in a place where I can't hide
I need serenity, nothing changes days go by.'
"What's the matter?"
Once again his master's voice unearthed him from the depths of thought. He took hold of this opportunity as if it where his only life line. Desperate for any excuse he could find to turn his thoughts anywhere but inward.
"You look like you've been sucking on a lemon." He gazed at Rishid with a look of mingled concern and annoyance.
"I am sorry, Master Malik. I was, once again, lost in thought." Rishid bowed his head respectfully, causing his master to frown confusedly at the top of his shaven head.
"You seem to get lost a lot." Malik stated plainly as if commenting on the weather. "I have an idea." He added playfully, "Why don't you really 'get lost' and go get us something to eat?" He patted his stomach for emphasis. "Besides, fresh air might do you some good. You've been locked up in this shitty little hotel room all day, staring out the window like some old man."
Gracefully, Rishid rose to his feet, smiling slightly. He bowed to his master momentarily, causing the teen to roll his eyes in exasperation, before stalking out of the room. He was glad for the chance to stretch his legs and get some air. As he walked he reflected on what he assumed was his master's unwitting wisdom. Whether he had meant it that way or not, Malik had hit the nail squarely on the head, he had been right, Rishid was lost.
'Where do we go when we just don't know?
How do we relight the flame when it's cold?
Why do we dream when our thoughts mean nothing?
When will we learn to control?'
Malik watched as Rishid walked from the room, pausing to listen as he heard footsteps fading down the hallway. 'It's amazing how foolish he can be sometimes,' he thought to himself. Rishid always dwelt on what was past It was pointless, foolish even.
"The sooner that we're free of that buffoon the better!" his other self spat bitterly in the back of his mind.
"I'll hear none of that!" Malik shot back at him angrily. "Rishid is my most useful servant. His undying loyalty to me makes him an invaluable tool. He is worth ten of my lesser slaves, and I'll not listen to a word against him."
There was a very distinct pause between his dark self's reply and when it came it was clearly forced. "Yes... of course, it's exactly as you say, he is most incomparable."
'Tragic visions slowly stole my life.
Tore away everything, cheating me out of my time.'
"I wonder what he was thinking about anyway." Malik pondered thoughtfully. His dark half growled in annoyance,
"Who knows, It can't have been anything good. A servant that spends his time thinking is a dangerous person to keep close."
Malik chuckled at this but otherwise didn't reply.
Exactly what was it about travel that made one so recollective anyway? Even he was being pulled into the bitter world of memory, a pastime he found quite detestable.
In spite of this pronouncement however, a particularly interesting memory forced it's way to the top of his mind. It was both Malik's most terrible and very favorite memory; consisting of the day he was first able to step out of the dark tombs of his destiny into the light that had been so long denied him. It was this day that his father was sent to the cold embrace of the afterlife, Rishid nearly joining him. It was then that Malik's destiny had been placed into his own hands.
When he thought about it, he could still feel Rishid's arms around him, pulling him back from their father's bloody corpse, could still taste the tears that had flooded forth.
'I'm the one who loves you
No matter wrong or right
And every day I hold you
I hold you with my inner child'
He remembered his terror when the man - Shadi was it, appeared and told him of his fated clash with the Pharaoh. It was to this 'great' Pharaoh to whom Malik attributed all of his pain, all of his family's pain. It was because of the Pharaoh that he had been doomed to his dark life, because of him that he had been forced to suffer the agony of the Tomb Keeper's Initiation. The scars carved into his back served as a constant reminder.
Simply by existing the Pharaoh had robbed Malik of everything, even his sanity. He could feel the rage of this injustice erupt inside of him, and spiral out of control. Rather than try to harness his wrath though, Malik embraced it. He could feel blood begin to flow from beneath his fingernails as he clenched his fists, and he reveled in the scarlet shimmer of it. He lost himself to the fury of his frenzy paying no heed to his dark self's stern admonitions for him to regain his control.
At last, with an insistent scream of "For Ra's sake calm yourself!" reason began to slip back into the fire red edges of his mind. Breathing hard Malik rose shakily to his feet and stumbled to the small bathroom at the other end of the room, and washed his hands clean. If his dark self was talking to him Malik was unaware of it until he finished and settled himself back on his bed.
'I need serenity, in a place where I can't hide
I need serenity, nothing changes days go by.'
"I thought you said it was pointless to dwell on what is past." His dark side growled darkly.
"Shut up!" Malik spat "You don't know anything!"
As if overtaken by a change of heart his other self's voice echoed in his mind with a soothing purr. "There's no need to be upset." He whispered softly "We'll have our revenge soon enough."
Malik inhaled and exhaled slowly, pulling his temper under his control. After a while he spoke softly, as if tired. "I suppose you're right." He admitted reluctantly. With a hint of crazed fanaticism he added, "The Pharaoh's life will soon be in our hands, then we can take what rightfully belongs to us."
In a rare lapse of jubilation Malik jumped to his feet, a rumbling growl from his stomach reminding him that Rishid was running late. He crossed to the window in hopes of seeing his dinner coming. When he got to the window Rishid was nowhere in sight. He waited at the window in anticipation, the rumblings in his stomach growing more and more persistent.
After several minutes wait he saw Rishid round a corner carrying two large brown paper bags in his arms. He watched with mild amusement as the passersby gave his adopted brother a wide birth, most likely because of his unnerving appearance.
As he approached the hotel Rishid stopped mid stride and looked up, staring right at Malik, as if he had felt his master watching him. As their eyes met Malik caught site of the hieroglyphs carved in to his servant's face. As he studied them something unnerved him. He felt strangely ashamed and averted his gaze, when he looked back Rishid had disappeared from the street.
'Where do we go when we just don't know?
How do we relight the flame when it's cold?
Why do we dream when our thoughts mean nothing?
When will we learn to control?'