(Ch. 35. Akefia's POV.)
…everything's… blurry… and… dark…
The… scuffling of feet… and me… in a spot light… I can't move my arms… or feet… so stiff…
"You… Child."
I flinched… suddenly…ahh!
That voice… it hurts my… ears… my skin grows with, goosebumps…shivering…
"…What is your name and age?"
…It's a man's… voice, I can tell… I can't speak though… my throat hurts… too much…screaming…
"Speak, boy!"
I jumped… Though my head, stayed sunken…
"A…Akefia…I…I'm f…five."
… No… I'm not, Akefia… he doesn't, speak like that…
This boy… his voice, it… spoke out of… fear… no faith.
Mumbles…
"Five? That's a little young, don't you think?"
"Who cares, Isis? We have smaller men out there."
I don't see them… they must be, in the shadows around me… one sounds younger… female, though.
"I'm well aware of that, Kalim, but he's still just a child…"
"Look, if you are so worried about this, we'll simply keep him captivated till he proves ready to work. Lives are always being taken out there, so he'll be good back up if we run low."
…What…?
I… don't understand this…
…silence.
"Good. Then it's decided."
…my mind… my eyes… my eyes are closing…!
"His heart is too heavy for freedom, but also too light for death. My scale tells me so." The male voice stated.
What… what…?
"The… necklace sees it to be, that he'll be a fine slave."
...Who are these people… my… head, hurts…!
I have, to close my eyes… but if I do…
"At least for a while."
…I see that smile… crying… burning…
The chime of rustling chains… was the last thing I heard, before… blacking out.
Relief to my ears…
It was not that scream… my scream…
o.O.o
It's cold now, where I am…wherever I am.
All I know is that it's small and that I can't move too well. I'm too numb anyways. It's so cold…
My body shakes against the unfortunate temperature. But it's not that unfortunate. To me at least.
At least it's not that… that… that warmth.
No…
I see it right now. Happening before my eyes. The fire. The yells. Or I did. My eyes are currently open. I see darkness. I feel nothing but my aching bones.
It's a better feeling, though… than that nightmare.
The only difference was… I just… don't care.
I barely moved. I barely ate… yes. I was given food too. Someone came by every day. It would only be once though. Every day.
A piece of bread. Scraps of fruit. And a sly comment from the deliverer.
I never did say anything back. I might have wanted to. But I didn't.
Instead, I made good use of this time I had.
I wrote. Wrote everything. Everything I saw. Saw I what I wrote. A circle. A circle here. Some lines… there's the sun.
Yea.
I drew my wishes. I want to see it again. That glowing light… no… not that glowing light… light that hurt me. Burned them.
That's why I grew to the darkness. It was cold. No light. No warmth. No nightmare. Simple rules to this game. The game of life. It was an odd game. With odd people. Not like the ones I knew… they are different. Their life is different. Not like the ones I see… who are behind bars.
Look. There they are. The bars to a cell. I'm in one. There's more. People. Now prisoners. They Whine and cry. They are my lullaby.
If I could sleep.
I can't. I close my eyes, I go back to reality. This nightmare I'm in. I see the smile. I hear the laugh.
But then it's gone. Gone when they start crying. Crying and smiling. Crying and laughing. Happy and sad. Why? It makes me cry. I frown. I shout. I'm sad. Not both… it's confusing… I'm curious!
I can't be curious. I will never get answers. And…
I will never wake up, will I?
Possibly.
Games can change. Drastically.
o.O.o
It felt like years since I last hear the rusty creak of a metal door.
I lifted my head with curiosity. Maybe I'll get an answer to why.
Dry footsteps came into my cell. A figure of a man appeared. I saw three other blackened heads behind him.
"Guards." The man's voice boomed in my sensitive ears. It was then I realized it was the same man from back then.
"Seize the boy."
Two yes sirs where given in reply, and it wasn't seconds before their strong fingers grasped my forearms, pulling me onto my feet.
I shivered at their cold touch, silently crying out. My nerves where spiraling out of control as I tried to think of the last time someone actually touched me.
"So he has grown. Not by much though." This voice was female. It was familiar too. Maybe belonged to that woman.
"It matters little. Look here." I saw the man's arm reach for the wall, brushing his, what I thought was fingers, against the stone. I couldn't tell from how dim the lighting was. "Drawings… he's quite the little artist… the boy should make a fine scribe."
My brows merged together at the comment, watching the man more intensely. Scribe? What did that mean…?
They had me curious.
Then the woman spoke up. "We'll have to see what his other strengths are before we place him anywhere, though."
"I'm well aware of that. I merely thought I'd bring the offer up, since you seem so worried for a slave." The man seemed to have been scowling at the other figure with his sly voice. It irked me, to know a person speaks in such a manner.
"Bring the boy forth." The man motioned his hand at the guards, whose grip on my forearms tightened by a large amount. I gritted my teeth as the feeling in my legs was completely dead, having to have complete support from the men who might cut my circulation off.
It hurt, being a slave. I saw the words written in every one of their sad eyes as we passed the rows of prisoners, reaching out to the guards like they were the hand of Yahweh. Some stared with pity towards me, for the men strangling me where not at all pleased with my jelly legs; kicking my shins and ankles, shouting "Move!" like I where some animal.
I shed the tears of confusion as a result. But surely no one would notice.
o.O.o
My arms were given free, though my eyes became scorched by the sun, beating down upon my stiff face. Several moans and groans where floating through the dry air, soft sobs even. It was all too familiar to me by now, though. I'd gotten used to the cries after hearing them nonstop.
Though now, they were given by children. All around, group together, where kids, probably none over the age of twelve. Every single one was rubbing their eyes, including me, because of the intense heat, and the ground being so soft, yet burning our bare toes.
Just standing up was torture.
Not to mention listening.
A man began to speak, though I my ears were so full of our mourning, that I thought to be dreaming it up.
But soon, the moans where silenced, and eyes where squinted up at the man who talked upon a large wooden platform.
"Young children. I am Shada, and you, are now working slaves."
Scared mumbles ran about the crowd. I listened with curiosity.
"As of today, all of you will be assigned a station, and will serve under the Pharaoh's hand."
At that moment I really didn't care how bad my eyes hurt from the sun. I simply let them stretch to a height I didn't know possible under hat nasty word.
"Pharaoh."
Suddenly my eyes began rapidly looking in every direction, seeing the stories I was told when so young.
I found myself in the city of Cairo.
It was like the breathe of life was knocked from my lungs, leaving me in a sickening trance. Weights where placed onto my shoulders as well, and my weak frame could not bear any of it. I was sent to the ground with a loss for footing, bumping into the legs of another. I took little notice to whom it was until I heard the voice.
"A… Akefia!"
My entire body flinched as my faded purple eyes meant that of Seto. My mouth gaped open at the one familiar sight among all that wasn't. I scurried to my feet, trying to maintain my glee. "Seto! Is that you? Wow, you grew a lot!"
Though my loud voice was silenced by the taller's finger held to my lips, and that's when I truly looked into his eyes. They were totally drained of their once icy blue color, and placed with a soul ripping shade of gray.
My heart skipped a beat as Seto spoke in a tone rather sharp. "Calm yourself, Akefia. We are not free to talk anymore." I couldn't believe my ears. "What do you mean? I can talk just fine–" The brown haired boy cut me off with not words, but with a cold stare. My brows knitted as my lips began to quiver.
"Seto–"
This time it was a stinging slap on the mouth to both me and the other boy that silenced our conversation. I was knocked to my knees while Seto merely cringed and turned the other way. Though we both did yelp, for it was probably the first time someone had done that to us. Not even my own… they would never do something like that to me.
"A perfect example to what would happen if one were to speak if not spoken to." I raised my head with a twisted frown upon the man who just spoke. "And a lesson I hope to never use again." this time, he looked off into the crowd of children, who stared back in fear.
But I must say, the next few things to happen where was far worse than fear.
Seto slowly turned to face the man, standing strait and proud. I listened closely, thinking he was going to tell this low life off, like he used to joke around with me and Kisara.
It was when Seto bowed to the man before him that my jaw dropped. "I apologize for miss behaving. Please, I ask for your forgiveness, and I'll see it won't occur again."
I shook my head in complete and utter disbelief.
"Very well, young man." The Egyptian spoke as the boy I once thought to be an enemy to Cairo stood straight again. The man looked to where I still lay in the sand. "And you, boy, should learn from him." He said, resting a hand onto Seto's shoulder, who didn't even care so much to even glance at me.
All the sorrow in my heart was put into tears. Part of me became ashamed for crying on this terrible land that I was taught to hate, and made the matter even worse.
"Come, child." Said the man, taking Seto beyond the crowd, watching them disappear from my sight.
But it was then I realized that that boy I was just talking to was not the same from when I was a small child.
And neither was I.
o.O.o
That day was the beginning of many for me. From then on, I spent most of my days outside, getting used to the new level of heat. I never did see those grey eyes again, and I guess it was for the better. Though I would rather not be reminded of this nightmare, and how it's so different from my dreams.
But it mattered little to me. Just because of those eyes, I could no longer feel the freedom that nature had to offer. There was no rich soil for me to dance upon, nor was there any joyful laughter. In my cell, I had grown to the cries, and being kept in a dim lit room, it only felt natural for the atmosphere to become so dark. Though when you're out in the open with tons of light, it feels awkward to be so… silent.
It disgusted me; knowing I could not speak aloud my rights. Or that dreaded sound… I hear it all day. The quick lash, and a grunt or a scream afterwards. Only once did I turn my head due to curiosity, but I never looked back. What was the point in doing so? After many months, I did stop wondering about this thought. For if there is no answer to a question, then there was no question in the first place. Rule number two. Learn it. Live it.
I can't say I loved it. Today especially. The crack that sounded like thunder and a cry as loud as lightning. The grip I had on the chisel in my hand was strong, building with anger. It was a terrible feeling. Anger. I felt sunken and beaten, bottled up and locked down, all by the one emotion.
But it couldn't have been my fault. The people of forsaken city where all to blame for it, even Cairo itself was holding a sin like no other! Everything about this place was retched; the residences, their actions, the words spoken, and the way things operate.
I could not take the cries so loud in my ears, and freed the chisel from its place, having it plummet to the ground. The sounds became muffled by my fingers, in which blocked my ears from any more harm. It was barely successful, for I could make out the voice of a man, speaking to me. "Young boy, you be alreet?"
The hand on my shoulder was what really made me jump back, and see to whom spoke. It was an elder man, for sure with his cloud-like hair, glowing against the bright sun. His eyes where sagging into his already dreary face, in which was so black his skin resembled that of charcoals. At first, I was scared by the unfamiliar appearance, and squinted at the tall figure before me.
"You be deaf, boy?" the man asked, tone very deep and hinted with an accent. He looked to be West Indian. "N-no." I stuttered, very unsure about him. "I'm alright." The man nodded with a grunt and looked to the ground. "'Ere boy," he said, bending down to pick up the fallen chisel. "You work good. Be punished for slackin' be no good." I was then handed the tool, taking it with extreme caution.
I watched the man go back to painting upon the alabaster, until a loud crack had caused my head to turn in its direction. One single glimpse I saw, and immediately looked back to the wall with a traumatized face. It was worse than the first time, and I felt more than just anger too. I was completely scarred out of my wits. Not knowing how to control this fear, I simply let my hands shake and wobble as I carved the stone.
"Ah, I see now." The same booming voice said. I franticly looked towards the man next to me. "You be frightened of de whip."
For a moment I remembered to breathe, and exhaled so heavily I felt more weight appear onto my shoulders. "Y-yes." I admitted, practically digging my nails into the stone before me to support my shaking frame, hearing that dreaded weapon go off every time I blinked. "Young boy. You must pay no attention to de sound. You tink of it too much, it gets into you head. Rather a soothing melody than de cries of slaves, boy. It be bringin' good thoughts to you mind."
As I listened to the man speak directly into my ear, the crack faded. I heard my breath only, before I recalled the tune I've known since a small child. After a few moments, the man had removed his hand from my shoulder, and went on his way, as I did too.
But I do admit that the sobs and moans never dies completely. I guess they just mixed into what was that of mourning, and song.
It was all part of my grand lullaby.
Or rather my grand dream.
OD: Well... about time you guys got an update, huh? I hope this makes up for a "longer-than-usual" abscence, because i was at church camp all last week... so yea, blame that not me xD and pesky little writers block too...but that was all cured about yesterday. I was going to make this chapter longer, but decided to just give ya guys somthing to satisfy your hungry souls...whatever sols read this knocked up shit anyway xD
Yami: ...
OD: What?
Yami: idk, i feel like you should say sothing about last chapter.
OD: ehh... how'd i do on the transfering? i thought i did well :3 Oh, and another thing! Akefia is now around the age of seven, if u hadn't noticed, and in the nect few chapters, his age will change a but drasticly, shall i say. just a heads up! thank you all for reading this freaking far! 35 chapters! I never thought i'd make it to chapter two xD
Yami: This is a big thanks for her reveiwers also. Without you guys, Oki wouldn't be as far as she is. SO REVEIW WOULD YA!
Me: They're reveiwing, yami, pipe down ^^
Yu-Gi-Oh! is owned by Kazuki Takahashi.