Disorientating sounds of care-free laughter and voices slid up into the black hood that cloaked Eybora's head, leaving her in a blinded daze as the chains to her shackles clinked faintly against each other; the noise from her confinements were miniscule compared to the jovial aura that seemed to grow in size each passing moment as a group would laugh, and then another, and then another.
Her captor, the Nubian Prince named Mayon, and his five escorts who flanked her, were entirely silent, so she knew this noise wasn't their doing. This led her to wonder how many people were in this place, truly. It couldn't be more than one hundred, she thought to herself, nearly bewildered at the idea of so many people together all at once. But, these people were strange, and liked to live in large clusters.
The "Market Place", as her captor had called it, was her first time to behold such a sight of such a congested amount of people. Nearly seventy people had crowded the streets in the early morning, and they had appeared to be only keepers of food stalls, not actual customers. Eybora was snapped out of her thoughts as the sound died down almost instantly, all around her, as soon as Mayon had spoke.
Shivers ran up and down her spine as she felt her Mayon's hand reach out to stop her slow, obedient step. She moved not an inch forward, or an inch back, as she knew it was best and most wise to listen to the dark skinned devil. Another moment passed, and her Mayon's hand was gone from her soft abdomen, and he spoke again.
Though she couldn't see it, she felt many eyes rove over her and her captor. It made her nauseous to be the center of so much attention, even if she wasn't out rightly witness to it. In nervousness, her gloved hands grasped at one another, and she began to clutch tightly onto her fingers to attempt to hide her discomfiture, glad that the hood was over her crown now, despite the extreme heat.
As she tried to decipher what Mayon was saying, even though she knew very little of their language, she did hear the word, or name, 'Pharaoh', used repeatedly.
"To show that the peaceful kinship between Nubia and Kemet is still in tact, we bring you, Pharaoh, a rare subject to add to your repertoire. A gift for you and your new throne." Mayon spoke, and she caught onto the word Pharaoh again, though she did note the sound of sneering contempt in his voice whenever Mayon said his name. She shifted, still hiding her nervousness, and now, her slightly upset state. If given the chance, although she knew not how many days she had left, she would force herself to learn their language, so that not everything they said would leave her dumb and deaf.
"Show her to me if she is so special, then." a deep voice finally made itself known. It was commanding, just like the Mayon's, but this voice was much more calm. Serene, almost.
Just as she found the proper place to position her weight perfectly, the felt the fabric of the hood lift, and in moments, she was blinded again, but this time by the light that hit her full force once her face was free.
Her eyes clamped shut as she hissed in slight pain, as she had not expected to have the hood taken away so abruptly. When she had grown used to the light, and she had lifted her head, gasps began to erupt all around her, both female and male in nature.
"Too pale to be Babylonian or Greecian!"
"Is she dead?"
"A chained spirit!"
"Her skin is ivory and her hair is bronze!"
"How hideous, the Gods have not been kind to this one!"
Chitter ruptured throughout. As Eybora opened her eyes to study those around her, her jaw dropped; she was finally able to understand the sheer the amount of people that were paying their mind to her now unhooded state. They stared at her as if she was some sort of monster or demon, some repulsed, some curious, some horrified.
There must have been at least two to three hundred at the sides the walkway they stood in, alone.
It also wasn't just the huge number of people, but the giant, elaborate stone building they were standing in! Several months ago, she wouldn't have even been able to imagine a building like this, let alone imagine standing in it!
The idea of buildings this large was another extremely foreign part of her that would separate these people from her. Going from living in the warm, wooden, comforting huts of her homeland, to being chained and hooded in wagons and boats, to seeing gigantic stone sculptures that people resided in threw her mind for a true boggle.
Unable to control her lungs from sudden fright, her chest began to rise and fall rapidly, her breathing faster than was healthy. To stabilize herself in, sadly, the only way she could in a room filled to the brim with dark skinned devils, she reached out to the Mayon's coloured-linen clad arm, her chains clacking together as she hid beside her captor for steadfastness. To her relief, he didn't strike out at her as he had previously when she had accidentally brushed or bumped into him before. He, to her shock, gave her a look of approval instead; though after a moment of their eyes locked together, she realized that he had donned a perfect mask, save for the ones who knew what really lay underneath it. Mayon looked away and back to the Pharaoh.
"She comes from a land of cold you could not imagine, and the reasoning behind her ivory skin is, even though it is horrific to imagine, that the sun is rarely ever seen in their clouded, black sky. We believe that since the Gods have not had their reach so far up into uncharted, barbaric territories, that their people have been ignored by the light." Eybora clung fiercely to Mayon as the room sounded off with gasps and sounds of pity, as well as disgust. What was Mayon saying about her, Eybora thought in despair.
After taking a moment to gaze at the people whose dark eyes bore into her, she looked back up to the man on the throne that seemed to be entirely made out of gold. Was that him? The one named Pharaoh? If it was, then he was a small man with hair that had more colour than spring. He was concentrated on what Mayon was saying as he judged her with a superior air. She couldn't read him, and this worried her. Was this going to be her new captor? This Pharaoh?
Mayon continued, "Her people, though incredibly few in number, are nearly unstoppable, savage fighters, as we found out when had first made contact. Their magic, though barbaric in nature, has potential to rival our own in the civilized world, as it deals with the world and everything around us, thusly meaning they have control of a different spectrum of magic," a dramatic pause, allowing those to take in the information before he continued again.
"She does not know much of the civilized language yet, but she shows the ability to learn at an exceptional level. She is also a skilled healer, as she was what they considered to be a high priestess in her land, and can cure moderate and sometimes even heavy wounds. I have also witnessed her bring back the dead, though the ritual itself is dangerous. Aside from her skills, she is strong willed, but incredibly obedient, and I believe she will serve you well, as a protector. When given this root..." Mayon allowed his voice to trail off for another dramatic pause, and instead of keeping his eyes on the crowd or the Pharaoh, his gaze flickered to Eybora.
Eybora, who had been going back and forth between Mayon and the one who was called Pharaoh, nearly choked on her tongue when Mayon brought out a medium sized, black leather satchel. Her face drained of any colour at the sight, and she trembled. A strong desire to back away from Mayon welled within her, but she felt frozen to the spot.
"She will out power any of your ka beasts, as well as your priests. It's the root her people would ingest, and fight on. It gives them speed and strength, as well as an immunity to pain and fear. I laid witness to one of her people still massacre another, even though his legs had been reduced to bloodied stumps," Mayon paused, yet again, to give a glance over the plebeians that clutched to his every word.
"These roots, however, are artificial, and infused with Nubian magic, and are far more potent, so that not only will she have increased strength and speed, but she will be able to control objects with her will, and create shield walls and forces from nothing. It also has a special additive. When she takes the root, you must give a command. She will then follow it," Mayon took a step forward, his fingers wrapping tightly around the chain, and Eybora followed, as she had no choice in the matter.
"I created these artificial roots myself, as we can not grow and harvest these plants in our lands. I will show your alchemist how to create the root so that you may have an unlimited supply to keep your new guard powerful and unstoppable. Here, take her chains, she will not harm you, despite her size."
Eybora stood motionless as Pharaoh rose to make his way down the stairs of his throne. Mayon had held out the chain. Five steps, and Pharaoh, who happened to be two heads shorter than herself, reached out and took the chain from Mayon's grasp.
Now that they weren't even five steps apart, Eybora saw that his eyes, although wise and soft, were like blood in colour. Her insides squirmed; demons had red eyes, didn't they...? Was her new captor a demon?
"If she is so powerful, why would you bring her to me...? Both you and I know that our countries..." Pharaoh stopped in mid-sentence as Mayon interrupted him with a guffaw, his head thrown back in a maniacal manner before he regained the same composure he had earlier. Eybora shifted restlessly between the two as a large frown appeared on Pharaoh's face. Both men seemed as if they were royalty, as their attire was far more opulent than anyone else's within the room. Far more opulent than she had seen, even. In fact, almost everything they wore was downright bizarre to her, other than the gowns the women wore. That was a least a small sense of normalcy.
As Mayon smirked down at Pharaoh, and opened his mouth to respond, he, too, was cut off as a scream rang out from behind them, towards the entrance of the grand hall. Once the scream dissipated, which lasted less than a second, a pebble could have been heard if it happened to drop. In one swift motion, every head had turned towards the front of the throne room. A gasping, nearly dead guard stood alone at the entrance of throne room. Blood covered his front, and arrows stuck out of his chest.
"Theives…! Maurauders are here…!" And with that, the guard toppled over, seemingly dead as a man, cloaked in red, came up from behind and sank a blade into his back. Within moments, the red cloaked man had already stepped over the dead guard and was making his way towards the gaggle of people towards the front of the room.
"So, you're saying that this woman is the answer to all your faulty mishaps with the palace guards…? Good luck with that. And she can heal, you say? I do happen to have an ache in my back, so why don't you let me give her a try" The cloaked man spoke while chuckling, obviously finding himself funny. He seemed boisterous and arrogant. His eyes, again, red in colour, were on Eybora as he strutted his way to the crowd of people. As the cloaked figure strode, a monster began to come into existence. Eybora lost fighting back a squeak of terror as what seemed to be a demon appear out of thin air. It was massive, and groaned whenever it moved, mayhap from its sheer size! She had seen magical and demonic forces before, but this thing was absolutely gargantuan!
"Touzoku-Ou! How dare you enter the palace! Heathen!" A tall man robed in white, who looked important stepped forth, in front of the Pharaoh and herself, and spread his arms to act a shield. Within his dark fingers was a scepter made of gold, sharp wings and an eye on the head of it. This person seemed incredibly powerful, so maybe he was a part of Pharaoh's servants?
"I see you have rodents…" Mayon spoke, stepping before the one that had put himself between the Pharaoh and herself. Her captor's eyes, a deadened twilight in colour, roved over the intruder towards the Pharaoh. "Perhaps, you will let my gift show her worth."
The intruder leaned back into a cackle after Mayon had spoke. Was what he had said funny…? With the atmosphere, how it had changed so abruptly from curiosity to horror, Eybora would have to guess not.
"Pharaoh, I have never heard a worse Idea-" the tall, white clad priestly figure spoke, but was cut off as Pharaoh raised his hand, his eyes turning to her.
"Silence, Set. Now… Show me, Mayon, how she would take care of this thorn in my side." His tone was serious, and the wise, softness was gone. The intruder was perhaps incredibly hated…? Eybora was growing fearful. Why couldn't she speak their language! Too much talk for things to be safe!
"Eybora." Mayon's voice sounded all too familiar. Her heart sank. To not disobey in what seemed like the worst time to be unruly, Eybora's head slowly turned toward Mayon. The satchel in his hands was open, and he withdrew a root just as her head finished the slide to catch the gaze of her captor.
"Come," he said in her language.
"Mayon… Don't you think I should wait to consume the God Root…? I had to ingest one only last week… I do not think I can consume it again in such a short time…" Eybora pleaded, keeping her voice low while her head and chest lit up in flames, feeling all eyes, court and intruder alike, on her person.
"Eybora, do not make me look like a fool," Mayon spoke softly, but it may as well have been snapping and snarling at her, as his eyes flashed dangerously.
Having to keep tether to her people that he had kidnapped and brought to this desolate waste, Mayon spoke her language quite well, and even though his words were not kind, she was thankful at least an iota of a bit to have someone speak to her in a language she understood.
"She sounds like a savage… And you're going to have her confront me…? Some pathetic, sickly looking foreign woman?! Preposterous! I will not stand for it!" The intruder cloaked in red growled, hollering loudly as he approached the congested pile of people, and five tall, thin, priestly figures burst forth from the crowd, creating a barrier between the intruder and the plebeians of the throne room. He was threatening them…?
"Eybora, hurry, do not keep your new master waiting."
"But I was your guard, Mayon… I do not want-"
"No longer, you have a different purpose to serve. I have many guards, and you are worth more to me when you are with him, than me. Now eat."
"No… I can't…"
"Eybora!" Mayon took his last step quickly, his free hand grabbing at Eybora's throat, his tone that same, ominous low.
"Consume!" He hissed.
"I could hurt these people! I could lose control!"
"Irrelevant!!" He seethed, the level of his voice low, but it needed not be as his tone
Now, every person in the room had their attention onto her again, and Mayon, as they fought in her language.
"It seems she is wary?" Pharaoh interrupted as he was now at her side.
Mayon turned to Pharaoh as his grip tightened around Eybora's throat. In response to the painful grasp at her airway, she gasped for air, which made perfect oppourtunity for Mayon. With a flick of his wrist, the small, bright root flew into her mouth.
"It is because she is modest, Your Majesty…" Mayon spoke quickly in their tongue as he advanced his strength onto Eybora who whined and squeaked at the root in her mouth, the bitter residue leaking into her saliva. Before she could spit it out, both of Mayon's hands went to her, one on her neck, the other to clamp her mouth shut. To force her to swallow, Mayon made sure that her nose was also covered, so that she would have to ingest the root sometime. He continued to speak as Eybora shoved and grasped at his hands. She had no will anymore for this fighting.
"She is afraid to make you dislike her, because her power is so raw and savage."
"Tell her that she should not fear, for she should never be modest if she is so powerful." Pharaoh spoke, and a small, dark hand brushed against her clothed arm, in attempts to soothe, perhaps. However, such calming effects would not work for her now. Stinging, the backs of her eyes fought back heated water as she continued to struggle against Mayon's strict grapple, though it was all in vain. She knew this, but it was instinct she was fighting.
Mayon, turning his sights to Eybora, only a few inches away from her watering ones, moved his hand down to roughly stroke at her throat, which only caused her to swallow the forsaken plant. Unable to dam her eyes any longer, hot tears dribbled from her face as the sting of magic slid its way down into the confines of her belly; already she felt the effects of the root, her temperature rising and a feeling of suffocation over taking her.
Mayon then released her mouth, a satisfied smirk plastered to his features. His fingers found the broad, soft round of her shoulder, and with a smooth, graceful reflex, he towed Eybora as if she were made of air, and not the heavy flesh she truly was. Before she had feebly struggled, when the root wasn't in her belly, but not now. Now she only clutched at her throat while her skin grew waxen-like, even whiter than it had been, her eyes wide, yet sunken, while perspiration began to erupt all over her body, her breathing erratic, and coming in gulping gasps, quite audible in the dangerously quiet hall.
Past the crowd, and the guarding priests, Mayon had lugged Eybora towards the front of the throne room, to where the demonic spirit and the intruder stood. No thought was paid to the words that the intruder sneered, and Mayon, with a lack of tenderness, threw Eybora's weight, again as if it were nothing, to the floor before the intruder, causing her to fall, her black fabric covered body slapping against the granite floor, her hands making no motion to catch herself, in a pathetic, slave-like portrait.
Lying miserably on the floor, Eybora groaned as the drums of her ears thudded in the chaotic embrace of the root, the power now beginning, her blood smashing through her veins, her insides curling and throbbing against her shell. Through the sounding of her body's pain, she heard Mayon's foot steps retreat, quickly, and his voice called to her in her language, calm, and commanding, as the intruder began to retort again as rage laced his unknown words.
A familiar, although terrifying, constricting sensation began to fill her belly, as it was the first stages of the roots effects coming into motion. In one of the few ways to help cope with the immense amounts of pain that would be present in moments, she threw herself to her feet, but did not stand up straight, her upper half bent over while her hands wrapped around her front, her throat letting out a guttural moan.
The lids of her eyes slammed shut. Eybora prayed, to her Gods, to her battle maidens. She prayed that if she fought this individual, he would kill her, and she would meet her family in the knowledge of death. She prayed that he would slit her throat, bash in her skull, end her life so that she may be free. She prayed that if he did kill her, he would massacre everyone in this room, to tide her for sweet vengeance. She prayed.
And…
There it went.
Any and all coherent thought dissipated as a surge of agony exploded through her flesh, an animalistic reaction taking over. All air that her lungs were able to take in slid into her mouth, down her tubes in a shocked screech, her back snapping itself up a her arms tightened out at her sides, her fingers clawing in reaction, her vision faltering as her body convulsed. The noise, the whispering chatter and the snorting arrogance of the intruder all ceased, and all eyes were on her in a different light.
A large 'thock!' sounded from her body, causing most to jump at the thunderous snapping sound, and her muscles twisted, and her flesh warped from the inside out, the people not on Eybora's mind now. With jaw agape, her widened, agony-blinded eyes gawked at the intruder, unable to make out his expression, only the red of his robe and the silver of his hair.
Thock! Her body was sent further back, and it seemed that she defied gravity as she arched backwards, her waist-long hair swaying, lapping at the floor as she tilted backwards, seeing the coagulated colours of the silent crowd, the gasping screech escalating to higher pitches. As her vision shivered, she made out the colours of Pharaoh. And then his face, his expression wide and fearful. This was a natural reaction to such an unnatural action.
Echoes, she heard herself scream, the sounds reverberating throughout the throne room, and coming straight back to her throbbing skull.
Snap! Her body lunged forward, and she felt herself to hulk, her shoulder blades cracking and separating as the demonic essence of the root filling her muscles, her flesh, with its tainted power. Strength, Speed, her body was twined with the two aspects of it, empowering her in the worst of ways. Her eyes shook, vibrated within their sockets, her teeth bared in a misery filled shrill. If she could have warned this intruder to run, she would have, but her throat was swollen, and she knew not their language.
Pop! Her mine thrashed in a miniature cataclysmic event, all senses exploding in intensity to painful levels. Sight, Sound, Scent, Touch, Taste… Everything was magnified to thresholds that her body could not yet withstand. Her hands went up to the sides of her cranium and she shook , not trying to fight the effects, as destructive, murderous thoughts pumped themselves into her mind. The need to fill that hunger was growing, as were her hoarse, winded screams.
Eybora brought herself to speak in between screeching, gasping at air and at words, her thought process failing.
"M-May-Mayon…!" her words were choked, and she swayed, her body jerking forward with another bout of convulsion, and she was able to make out the intruder taking a step back, though her eyes were still unable to make out the sight of his face. Incensed. Her mind began to drown in emotions, a desire to destroy. To consume. To kill. The feral, shrill screams began to stay themselves, slightly, as she tried to speak.
"I'm feeling hunger! Order me! ORDER ME!" She choked again, frenzied and frantic, not sounding even slightly human anymore as she now possessed with the desire to kill anything and everything. This hatred, this feeling of frenzied desire to destroy. She sobbed. Mayon needed to give her a command, otherwise she would be a loose fire, and would attack whatever seemed weakest. And the intruder did not seem to be weak.
The crest of the root's powers infusing her body with power was almost here, and she felt her body create the sounds, cracking, snapping, popping. Her bones strength doubling, tripling. The intruder spoke, and now, as her body began to sync itself with the chaos of the God Root, she was able to listen to what the intruder said, still not understanding, and sounding garbled
"You dare to insult me like this...?" the intruder hollered, his anger not comparable to the basic, vile emotions stiring within her own chest. Eybora, now, was able to see his expression, stared at it with alien eyes, the hardened expression difficult for her to understand. She was absorbed in herself, pitying herself, lost in the tempest of the God Root, smothered in raw instinct. She was no better than the demons used to create this tainted root. Tears continued to fall from her now vacant eyes.
The intruder, who now had a decent gazing range, raised his arms incredulously at the sight of the water falling from her face, a piercing glare about him. He did not know how much danger he was in. Maybe he would be more powerful than herself, however, that seemed to be false hope.
Eybora staggered, now waiting for the last of the root to take control of her body, all human likeness of herself now gone from her mind. She could think again, but it was not her. She felt as if she watched herself, from afar. This was not her.
Hearing Mayon use words in their language she panted as she fronted the intruder, her face still flooded with tears, however, human emotion was not what Eybora would call her own now.
Sound pricked at the drums of her ears. Mayon's voice was distant, watered. She couldn't understand him still, as he was using their language again. If Eybora knew him, he would be ushering them, the crowd, Pharaoh, the priests, to stay by the back of the throne room.
Eybora waited, and a growl began to build within her chest, and her body shivered. The need was so strong now. To hurt. To destroy. But she needed the command!
As if he could read her broken, barbaric thoughts, Mayon delivered unto her the command.
"Eybora, kill him! Kill the man that stands before you! Eat his flesh, and obliterate his spirit!" There was her slave-master's voice. That was the command! That was it!
A rush, a release! The essence of the God Root fused with Eybora, a union between the two suddenly created, then, there, and with Mayon's direction. Eybora's head flopped back, and her mouth, open from the gasping and growling, let out a wail, incensed, delirious.
Down, then, came her head, and everything was clear. She watched herself shiver, wheeze, and smile, eerily for a few seconds at the Intruder. She was ordered to kill him, and the God Root would ensure it.
Instinct and Hunger.
The real Eybora was locked away, horrified. The smile faded, and she moved forward, commanded to do so.