Did you know they called our town the town of thieves? Travellers were advised to stay clear of our small town. Our small town with only a hundred and four residents. Our small town that was apparently overrun with murderers and rapists and thieves. And yes, our town probably did have the odd seedy member. I'm sure your very own street isn't completely free of sinners, but we were not over run with filth. And the acts that were committed by the hands of our criminals were hardly worthy of being burnt alive and melted down into…
It was because of our hair. Did you know that? Every three in five members of Kul Elna had strikingly white hair. No one knows why, or how, but the people of bigger towns and villages found what they deemed to be a worthy answer: 'demons'.
I sometimes look at my younger sister, Amunet, with her warm brown eyes and dusty skin, and the bright contrast of feathery white hair, and I laugh. This girl, with her chubby cheeks and too small hands was not a demon. She couldn't possibly be.
He, on the other hand…
I sometimes wondered.
You know him, I'm sure.
Bakura, the oldest living survivor at the ripe old age of ten years old and the leader of our little group. His hair is the same stark white as many of the other Kul Elna villagers, but sometimes, when I look at him and his smokey hair, I think even if his hair had been as dark as ebony, by now it would have already been lined with grey.
Because he takes every little bit of hardship personally, and feels every spike of stress like a nail in his flesh, and from the age of ten, he became the soul protector of four younger children. It shows in his hardened face and his taut body and, accompanied by his white hair, he does indeed look demonic.
But it's not Bakura who attracts the most attention for his demonic appearance. The second oldest survivor from Kul Elna is a lithe girl with willowy long limbs and long white hair that trails far below her waist. But unlike the rest of us, it's not her hair that grabs unwanted attention; rather, it's her skin. Her skin is almost as pale as her hair and in the right light it seems to glow. When she walks through the streets, she looks like a ghost. Her name is Kisara, and she was nine years old when Kul Elna was destroyed.
I think Kisara's appearance is even more shocking when coupled with Teana. Our third and final girl in the group is the single most beautiful girl I've ever seen. Her hair is dark and cropped around her face and her skin is the same dusty brown as most. Her features are perfect; she sometimes looks like a statue fit to reside in a pharaoh's tomb. Her eyes are like sapphires set in carved bronze. When she and Kisara walk side by side, it has the same effect as lining up ebony and ivory. So different and yet both so beautiful.
And it's such a shame, to walk the deserts and back alleys hidden from sight with these four remarkable people. These four remarkable people should be in the palace, beside the pharaoh and recognised as the beautiful beings they are.
We are the real tragedy from the events of Kul Elna. The pharaoh men may have left with golden trinkets, but they left behind four valuable gems.
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We spent the first four years of our lives after Kul Elna moving from village to village picking up crumbs like scavengers. We were lower than slaves and as unwanted as bandits, and all we had ever done was survive.
After years of being looked down upon, we all soon honed the skill of disappearing. We could walk through a town in night or day, picking up scraps and leftovers as unseen as an army of ghosts.
At first, we were nothing more than unwanted. A mismatch group of orphans who appeared for a couple of days and disappeared just as quickly in passing villages, but we were treated so much worse. We were treated like we were scum; thieves or criminals and it grated on Bakura something terrible.
As we grew, Teana and Kisara became more and more beautiful and Bakura became all the stronger. He had to be, to fend off filthy men with grabby hands. Bakura was the one to fight away anyone who dared threatened our little gang. As self-proclaimed leader, he made sure to stay as fit and as healthy as one could possibly be, feeding on scraps and scraps alone so he could always defend us. He walked around with his homemade dagger tied to his thigh and his eyes darting every which way, expecting every single person to turn on us. And this only caused more problems. The bigger he got the more men began to notice him and his arrogant attitude.
"You think you're big, huh kid?"
"Think you can play with the big boys?"
Bakura didn't think he was big. No. He just thought they were all small.
And Bakura's abrupt brawls caused us nearly as much trouble as the girls good looks. But that's not to say my sister and I were entirely not at fault.
Amunet was pretty much useless when it came to the survival of our group. She was small and young, and didn't understand much of our predicament. When she was scared she, would pine for me or one of the girls to pick her up and when we were hiding she had trouble staying quiet.
I, myself, am very small. I was only two years younger than Bakura and he towered a good foot or so above me. I wasn't quick; actually, I was very clumsy and I knew as a boy, as a one day man, I should have been able to protect our group the same way he did… but as well as my small stature I also lacked Bakura's bravery, and for that I hated myself. Every time Bakura was shoving away leering faces or punching a man in the gut for a lecherous comment, I stood on the sidelines and wished I could help him I wished I could halve the burden that lay on his shoulders. I wished I could protect Teana and Kisara. I wished I could teach Amunet how to survive. But I couldn't.
Ooooooooooooooooooooooooo
Another short-ish chapter but this is just a little introduction to our five main characters.
Any guesses who the narrator is?
Amunet = Amane
Teana = Téa
Thanks for reading thus far. I hope I captured your imagination and you'll trust me that it gets better from here on out.
(revised)