Nights in Egypt
Chapter Twenty-One: A Girl Named Ekatarian
He's here! He's here! He's here. He's here! Those words replayed in her mind like a mantra, a war cry, a signal to someone that may help her, but no one would. No one cared about those who were lost in the night, they may idly fret, or think of them for a fleeting second, but without such thoughts they were as good as gone—as was she.
She's running, dead center down the corridor as if she expected him to lunge from the shadows or one of those doors that perforated the hall and grab her, and draw her back into them where she was weak and could not get free.
Picking up her skirts, she ran, not entirely sure of what she was yet running from, but she felt the feeling pulse deep within her heart and spread to her feet like a frightened animal of prey running from a hungry beast, she kept running.
And the demons were on her, faster in their strides and surer in foot, they followed her no matter where she went, wherever she may go, they would follow because they wanted her. They saw her strength and patchwork defiance and sought to tear her down again like the proud little girl she'd found before her. They couldn't let her build her hope and buy her time, she had to be dormant, they had to stifle her light.
Katara paused when she heard pursuit behind her and looked over her shoulder to find the devil lingering in the shadows, swaying as if under some great weight and calling out to her.
Calling and calling and commanding.
Was she such a bad girl for running when she heard his voice?
Pillars and flagstone became a blur as they all rushed past her and soon run out as she turned down another hall and kicked her shoes from her feet before taking to a flight of stairs.
And he followed her.
He was like some demon that appeared in shadows.
It was dark. The whole world was in shadow.
Her breathe was flames and the effects of Lady Ursa's poison were not yet from her system. They suffocated her in the smoke and addled her mind. Where were the shadows? Why shadows? Would the sun ever rise? Where was she?
So dark, so alone, so afraid.
It's how everyone was born in this world. Those who could hope to strike a match had to keep it safe.
Soft grass kissed her feet and Katara knew she was in the garden on the farthest corner of palace, farther than she'd ever dared to venture. The growing moon hung above her with a silvery, heavenly, glow that reminded her of the temples in the South Pole. The purity of it felt wrong and suddenly she found herself wishing for a moonless night, the nights that drained her and helped her sleep. Helped her forget.
"Mis-tress Katar-ah."
A cold, cold hand grabbed for her elbow and she jumped and reeled back.
Not even the Prince's hands were that cold.
Muddled gold eyes stared back at her and a soft smile graced the lips of the man with them. His gaze sobered her some.
He should not be allowed to smile like that. She thought and her eyes widened when his face is too touched by the light and every shadow was removed and he's lain bare beneath the glow. Handsome and Egyptian, not an odd mix, but what dwelled beneath his skin made his appearance sinfully horrifying. Demons should not have angel faces.
"You . . ." she heard herself whisper, but for the life of her she cannot look away. She can't put her mask on, she can't look away, and she can't run. He's petrified her with some unseen spell and she can't get away.
"Mistress Katara," His hand reached out and touched her shoulder and his cold seeped through the fabric and made a trail up her neck to her cheek. "Mistress Katara. Katara, Katara."
—He'd always had an affliction with her name. He loved to roll it off his tongue with a distinctive drawl and savor it on his lips like a kiss of honey; he'd place to her rosy dark skin—
His name was Captain Lu Ten.
He was a Prince, much unlike the one she knew, but not entirely different.
She could never find herself to say his name.
—He's kind and evil and terrible and beautiful and a man. Don't trust, don't trust! Her mind screamed but when he ushered her out of her cell with the promise of food, she crawled on her hands and knees out of the light from her porthole window towards the darkness, towards him. She should have never done that. She should have never trusted, even for the slightest second, she was going to draw back, she was going to go back—
He leant forward nuzzling his head into the crook of her shoulder and inhaling her scent like a bloodhound so may never lose her again.
—He's cold and bleeds all warmth from her as if she was an animal left hung upside down to bleed so he could have her meat. She can't get away, while she is but a bunny running from a hybrid creature of grace and strength that she cannot get away from—
"Ekatarian . . . you've become so beautiful . . ."
That name.
That wretched, wretched name and wretched, wretched beauty.
She didn't want it. She didn't ask for it.
With a cry out outrage and she wrenched herself away, but the bravado was over before it could begin and he snared her wrist easily in his hand and it's dwarfed by his size and he shackled her wrists like he had so many times before.
Her breath became frantic and he was smiling at her with the same way he had before. "Years have not been kind to you, I see. Tell me, Ekatarian," He's pulling her towards him, and his name is practically rolling off his tongue like sweet honey. "Could my uncle tell you were not a virgin when he had you, or did he simply expect it?"
She pulled her wrists away and stumped back, shaking so badly she wound her hands into fists to defend herself.
How can she defend herself?
How can she . . . defend . . . herself . . . against a demon?
"Come now Ekatarian, don't be that way." He smirked at her. "Let us catch up like old friends. You do trust me don't you?"
"I—I never trusted you!" She growled but it didn't come out as half as menacing as she'd hoped.
He frowned.
It was a lie.
"How dare you, little princess. How dare you trust me? I was your enemy, but you played right into my hands. You thought I was going to take care of you, you thought I would feed you and tell you everything was alright and help you get home. You were delirious with fairytales of captive princesses and kind princes. You were naïve and stupid and I cured you of that."
Rage took her and her fists grew cold from the tightening of her grip.
His words are poison! Don't believe him! Don't believe him! Don't listen!
"Cured me!? You destroyed me! How dare you!?"
"It was a game and you lost." He shrugged and Katara's fists shook. "The game is a chessboard, you were a queen piece and you lost to a knight posing as a bishop."
He turned his back on her and began retreating back into the palace.
"And now you're nothing, I was hoping this little experiment might give you teeth, but you're still that spoiled little girl. Don't you know you're not a princess anymore? You're trapped here and you'll never see your beloved homeland ever again. Who knows; with your sins, you might never see it even in death."
Poison, poison! Don't you dare listen!
She felt the same tug she did every time she bended water. The cool that overtook her hands as the ice partials began to fleck at her knuckles.
Her bending.
Yes, the one thing she couldn't use when she was young. The one thing that made her strong and stayed with her like a keep safe; the one thing that kept her aloft now will bring him down.
"I'll kill you!" she screamed and in a blur something reached out to him and wrapped around his neck and snapped across his back protected by customary armor.
It was water. Water turned ice.
Glittering silver in the moonlight and creating a link between the two.
He made a noise of shock and then the ice began to melt away.
He's stronger than me. He'll kill me. This time he will.
Looking around frantically she spotted the turtle-duck pond a few yards away and dashed for it. Her feet tripped under her.
"Now, I can't have you running. Muffle your screams will you? I'm sure you remember how."
And orange glow radiated behind her and Katara jumped up when the fire cracked across her of her back, right over the diagonal slashes that marred her skin.
She didn't dare even try to scream, it was futile regardless.
Fire burned her skin and seared to her bone.
In the end it was always a stronger element.
It was pain, pain, pain that she was too well acquainted with.
A foot rolled her over and she sunk beneath the surface of the silvery water.
Princess Ekatarian was smiling up at her mother whom she resembled so much when she smiled they were like each other's doppelgängers. Twins. Older and younger. Beautiful and kind.
Queen Kya is smiling back down at her, pinching at the chub of her cheeks and then tucking a loose curl behind her ear and pressing a kiss to her daughter's forehead. "My darling girl, my little one," She would always say that to her, her brother was her father's territory, but Princess Ekatarian belonged solely to her mother and grandmother.
Why was she thinking of this?
Prince Sokka was silly; always trying to be so serious but wherever he ventured, and Princess Ekatarian loved her brother's antics. He wanted to be a warrior and practiced constantly with his boomerang and hope he hit something that wasn't the back of his head.
They were siblings, and he taught her petty defense, and weapons, and anything.
Why am I torturing myself?
Her father was a king and a warrior, and though she looked like her mother, her spirit was all his and he saw that in her. The defiance that made her a princess, the bullheadedness that made her a winner, and the drive to fight that made her a warrior. He taught her strength, not in the physical sense but down to her core where unwavering resilience was welded from the death of her childhood.
Am I dead in your eyes now?
Grandmother was elegant in her teachings; the ways of old, how to love and be loved, the power of the human spirit and not just bending or spirits or magic, but the life that bonded her to this earth and her parents and her people. To them, she would always belong. To them, she would never die.
Immortalized like the kings of old in ice caskets.
I am a princess.
It's an astonishing truth and it's painful in a way.
I am a princess and crumbling.
No kingdom, no crown, nothing.
I'm a dancer and a street urchin. I was trained how to seduce the men who hurt me and I did it all with a smile and harboring of secret hatred.
She had her resilience to her.
But what to protect?
Herself, she was the most important thing right now. Herself and her needs.
I am a princess, but I am not weak.
She rose from the water, arms raising upward and the water moved to her will and wrapped around him once again; this time not turning to ice so he couldn't melt it away, but solid water bending and moving around him like an unmoving resistance that could not be altered.
And she used that force to drag the devil back into the water and held him under until his thrashing stopped.
Making herself no better than him, she stumbled away and left him floating face up in the pond with the turtle-ducks.
This is one of my favorite chapters, but it had to be trippy and strange and not easy to follow, so everyone could take on their own perception. This is why we don't do drugs children. Lu Ten's reaction to Katara works for me because he's not all-over her 'I want you again', or tried to do anything to her, or act like he hadn't hurt her. Lu Ten acts like it was all a game, a step he had to take to get to the next challenege. Therefore, Katara is unimportant to him.
Due to my class on how to commit the perfect murder I'm learning it is REALLY hard to kill someone with blunt force trauma and/or suffocation. That class is fun. Not that I would ever kill anyone :) Except fictional characters, they are MINE.
Sorry for the late-ish update, I had a writing contest and last week and its always before and after I turn in my final manuscript Im stressed enough to give me gray hair, I needed a break from my to midnight editing parties and depleting my over usage of commas. I needed a few days off, and some sleepovers, and some trips to the library and to get some working hours in. XD
In Other News: I met JAMES KENNEDY author of The Order of the Odd Fish, which I highly recommend. It's hilarious.
MiniRant: MY BIRTHDAYS ON FIRDAY! WHOO-HOO! and there's nothing to do is this sucky town and it's making me nauseous.
NEXT TIME ON: Nights of Egypt: Locked in a beautiful cage doesn't take away from the fact that your trapped. The Prince and Katara have to learn to trust each other and with trust, they must share there secrets.
Review me, tell me if you have a question! Reviews make me update faster! I must have at least ten!
~QueenVamp