(Chapter 36. Akefia's POV.)
The hot days never really where much different I suppose. There was still the same sounds; the whip, the moans and cries. It was all there, like always. Though the only difference is what I hadn't heard before. Like the simple rustle of a paint brush upon the alabaster, or perhaps the creak of the ropes, using to haul slab after slab of stone. Even the chirp of an insect could be faintly pointed out. The little things, you know?
Whatever would get my mind off of that dreaded whip, and I most favored the few times that it would not occur. I also learned that if that loud crack is not around, neither are the guards. How'd I know this?
Well, the man had told me.
Oddly enough, we always did seem to end up working together, or somewhat close. And when the chance came around, we would go about chattering, though only when the guards not be about. Don't forget I took a hard slap to the face for talking, and I certainly don't want a whip there any time soon.
"Ai, you be excellin' quickly, boy." The man said, seeing my semi-finished paint job for the hieroglyphics I had carved in previous days. "Thank you," I somewhat breathed, not really happy I was helping to construct the very city is hate.
But then curiosity took all that anger away, just for the moment. "Excuse me," I suddenly asked the older. He looked up at me. "I just… never asked for your name." I stuttered, feeling a bit awkward for asking. The man simply went on continuing his own carvings. My mouth dropped open to ask again, but then I had finally received an answer.
"I Dunno. I never remember it."
Curiosity and confusion have a funny way of intertwining sometimes. "What do you mean, "you don't remember"?" I asked, obviously flustered that a man may not recall his very own name. "I mean what I be sayin'." The man responded, wagging is finger at me. "I only called slave 'ere. De man I once was is no more. Dat be why I dunno who I be."
For a good minute, I simply stared in awe, eyes squinted and all. AS I think about it, that was a very true statement. Neither could I remember the last time someone addressed me as…
"What 'bout you, boy?" said the man, pulling me from my trance. "You havin' a name?"
My throat became dry before I stuttered, "A…Akefia." I let out a large breath after so, relieved I still remembered. The man chuckled at my facial expression. "You be glad you remember?" he asked quite sarcastically.
"Yes." I admitted with a meek smile. The older laughed again, saying "You jus' gotta keep dem eyes open, young boy, and you will remember."
And with that, my lips died down from their small grin, feeling a sudden coldness shiver up my spine. "Actually… my eyes are closed," I shakily said, not meeting the man eyes.
Apparently, this confused him. "What you mean my dat, boy?" I simply shrugged my shoulders. "It's just… like I'm dreaming." My eyes wandered about the decorated wall before me. "I mean, I can feel and hear everything like it would be real, but… I can't imagine that I'd really be here. I do remember falling asleep before… I came here, so… it only makes sense… I must be dreaming."
I stared blankly in front of myself, seeing the hieroglyphics while letting the words I had just spoken flow through my ears. Of course. I am dreaming. It's beyond my comprehension that something like this would actually, and can actually happen to a human, a boy. To Akefia.
This kind of torture and pain and emotions that have been introduced to me. It's all in my head, all just a simple nightmare. That's why when my eyes do close… I see the previous events in this terrible dream. Repeating, and threatening to happen all over again again.
"What a world is it," the man suddenly spoke. "When a boy does not know if his eyes be open or not?"
o.O.o
If you don't think I really pondered upon what the man had said, you really need to get to know me better.
Of course, my mind was in a race throughout the entire rest of the day. Even when back in my own cell, the constant cries from other prisoners where drowned out from my own ears so I could think straight. And to this moment, i still don't take notice to the little sounds, like I would. Not even the whip could do any good to bring me from thought.
I still did my work as regular to avoid getting struck though. Huh. What did that man even mean? In what a world is it that a boy does not know if his eyes are open or not? Whatever it meant, it was annoying the heck out of me. I really wanted to just let the topic fall of my shoulders, but my brain wished otherwise.
Though, that dreaded cracking noise came about again, and snapped me out of my trance. After flinching a good six inches, I quietly began to mutter a tune to keep the wack of the whip from entering my ears.
It was only moments before I noticed something wasn't right. The song I hummed… and all the other noises around me.
I raised my head, looking to the left of me, hoping to see…
A piece of my lullaby. Was missing.
How different a lullaby can be with that one, little, note?
o.O.o
My life from that day forth was much different as well. I have no knowledge of where that nameless man went, or what became of him. I just never saw him again.
And so my thoughts where then kept inside my mind. And I guess that's the answer to why it grows so… twisted. To think I'm dreaming all of this now… to believe my mind could imagine all of this cruelty.
Impossible.
Though dreams are kind of made for the impossible to happen.
(Reg. POV.)
Tekuta never liked this; watching prisoners build a great dynasty that they didn't even belong to. The thought was sickening.
Though it's not just sickening. No, it's just down right wrong. Although, the queen of Egypt knew the city had to continue its construction in some way, but where slaves really the right answer? It would not affect the woman as much if they were paid workers, given homes, and treated with respect, rather than was is the reality of that dream. Ra, even the men carrying her throne where hollered at by other Egyptian guards.
It brings a solemn emotion to Tekuta's blue eyes, in which appear glassy as they scan across the land. The sound of whips being stricken against the skin of the slave's stings her ears, and shouts of demands from the guards who monitored the process. Like all the heart was being taken from them.
The woman sighed, fearing history would repeat itself.
Thought as if the gods where trying to lift Tekuta's emotions, a pesky little bug of some sort flew up and buzzed right in her face. She flinched, and immediately tried to shoo the insect away. Laughing slightly afterwards, the woman looked up as the bug hovered off into the sky, which lead to a sight quite uncommon.
There was a very young boy working among the scribes.
Tekuta was dazed for a minute. That kid couldn't possibly over the age of ten! Why have a child that young out here, where death is so common and uncared for? In fact, the boy didn't seem so well. He constantly tugged at the collar of his tattered clothing, and his arms seemed to be restricted whenever he reached for higher places when painting the carvings upon the alabaster walls. The boy's face was rather cringed and seemed as if he couldn't breathe too well.
"Guards," She quickly called to the men below her throne. "Yes, my queen?" a younger voice answered back, kneeling before royalty. Tekuta pointed up to where the child worked, "I request that that boy be brought to my chambers." The man looked at the queen with a hint of shock, but did as he was told. "Right away!"
The woman nodded to the guard, and gazed back to the boy, and smiled ever so slightly.
Perhaps how Akefia's mother used to.
(Akefia's POV.)
I have… absolutely no idea right now.
The only thing I'm quite aware of is that there are three ladies dressed in white, telling me to keep still as they… measure me… I assume that's what they're doing. They whisper nothings to each other, seeming like they didn't want to me to overhear them as they worked.
I could have cared less about what they chattered about, though. Why? Well for one, I'm inside the palace walls. Or at least that's where I guessed I was, for I had recalled a lot of prisoners talking about the beauty it holds. And, being in the four years I've been here, this makes my nightmare seem like a dream of enchantment.
Gold sparkled everywhere I turned, and exquisite merchandise furnished the entire room. Hieroglyphics, so bright and eye popping rained from wall to wall like a show of legends. I had almost forgotten of the women until they started tugging at my clothing, and undressed me. My tanned face flushed when I'd been left completely exposed for maybe a second or so before the women went on their marry way to dress me up into, from what I felt was a loincloth skirt, colored in a very deep shade of purple.
After the ladies had finished, the ring of delightful laughter filled the air. I glanced up in its direction to see another woman, clothed in a blue and white-striped cloak, her blackened hair pulled back into a ponytail. The only thing a little odd about her was the jagged golden bangs that rained at the sides of her face. She smiled, too. "That will be all, ladies." Her smooth voice said to the three women, who bowed politely before exiting the room. I felt my skin stiffen. She must be royalty, or something to have been bowed to.
Said woman turned her gaze to where I stood, on a rather small and round platform, making myself taller that I really was. "Do you feel better now?" She asked with a cheerful grin, leaving me quite confused. "I… don't understand." the woman giggled, slightly looking away for a moment. "I had seen you earlier today, and noticed how you pulled at your clothing. So I decided to give you better fit garments to work in." she simply replied, like it was a normal thing to do.
I left a very scared expression on my face, totally unaware of how to react to this woman. I mean, no one, not even the nameless man, had ever talked to me like… that. "But… why, would you do that?" I questioned. The woman's grin grew as she sighed silently while looking to the ground. "Well, where I come from, fabric can be used as a symbol of friendship."
This time, I was speechless. Did this woman even live in Cairo? The place that I held the most hatred towards?
Though she eventually did see through my confusion, and went on explaining. "Since the heartstrings between royalty and slaves isn't so great a bond… I figured, why not?"
…I am so dreaming right now. There just can't possibly be a person this nice in this terrible city…. Or at least, in my imagination.
I opened my mouth to actually thank the kind woman, because the truth was I did have a hard time when I was working, so it only seemed human to say my thanks. But as I was about to speak, a deep booming voice echoed from the doorway. "Tekuta!" hollered the voice, and soon I saw the person it belonged to. A slightly older man entered the chamber, cloaked in an extravagant purple robe that was outlined in gold, and a head dress that looked official and king like. I stared at him in great wonder.
"Yes?" the woman questioned in return, turning to face the man. He almost grinned as he walked towards her, taking one of her slender hands. "I was wondering where you went off to… who is this?" all of a sudden, the small smile on his face was wiped away as the man had just taken notice that I was present.
For a moment our eyes had meant and… I couldn't help but to squint suspiciously at him. For some odd reason, something was just off about that man. If only I knew what.
"He- he's a scribe," The woman stuttered, suddenly becoming unsure. I watched with curiosity. "A slave?" the man asked, sounding a little displeased. "Why is he in here?" the woman was left with an open mouth, but nothing was ever spoken aloud for quite a while. "He was struggling so hard out there Aknamkanon, I had to bring him in," she whined, trying to make the man see through her eyes.
Though he simply rubbed his eyes with a rough hand as shifting his feet in another direction, rather frustrated as the woman eyes became pleading. "Tekuta, you know it isn't good to bring slaves inside the palace."
I almost winced when I heard how surprisingly soft the man's voice was. Honestly, i expected him to raise his voice, even hit her, maybe. It happens so often anymore… you get the picture.
"If I hadn't brought him in, the boy very well might have died." The woman was actually the one to start yelled. Short of. "I highly doubt that, Tekuta." The man replied, very un-amused by her tone. "And I highly think that's a lie. The heat is intense out there, and you know that, the boy may have gotten heatstroke, and who would be there to help him? Hm?"
Where have I seen this before…?
"Workers are dying out there every day, Tekuta, it's not something that can be helped." The man's voice was low but stern at the same time.
The woman's face, however, slowly faded into a look of disbelief. "The strong make many, the starving make few. But the dead make none." she stated, just as stern as he had been speaking. The man's eyes were suddenly glassy looking. I bit my lip to keep from smiling. "A wise man once said."
And with that, the woman turned to her right with angry eyes as she exited the room with her head held high. I didn't really know why, but I watched with great interest as she left with such, power. It was quite intriguing to my interest.
"Guards!" the man shouted at the two armed men standing to the left of me, catching their attention quite suddenly. "Take this boy back to his station at once." And like always, the men said their yes sir's, and hurried their way over to where I stood, roughly leading me out of the lovely room.
I hesitated a bit more than I usually did when I looked back behind myself, barely seeing that brave woman walking down the enormous hallway. Something was just so… real about her compared to the others.
But soon, due to my lack of cooperation, the guards started to kick the back of my legs, nudging me to move faster than I wanted to. I sighed. Even the most lively things in a dream seem to far-fetched.
o.O.o
Still being escorted (if that's what you wanna call it) by the same guards as before, I actually got to see a side of slavery I'd never seen before.
The mud pits.
Just the simple name of the job seems so devilish. I can barely keep my eyes open, looking at all these tired souls, stomping their way through grime and muck to conduct bricks for building. And I thought the use of whips was bad to where I was normally at. This was an orchestra of cracks and cries, different pitches and tunes that ripped your ears to shreds in every tormenting way possible.
As if this wasn't enough; the aromas where nauseating, and the heat fried every inch of my exposed skin, not to mention the poor slaves who went through it day in and day out. Of course, I am located much more in shaded areas, but here; it's all in the scorching sun.
I shuttered, skin becoming extremely uncomforting in this terrible new place. With a shaky breath, I closed my eyes and hummed the soothing tune that always calms my senses, how sensitive they are in this fake world.
So sensitive… that I hear an echo of my melody. My eyes opened, suspiciously looking around me. It was gone. Hm. I must have been out in the sun too long. Ignoring the echo, my eye lids drifted shut once more as I continued to hum silently as I was doing before.
This time I actually flinched when I heard the supposed echo. Not only did it have the familiar tune, but it also was a familiar voice.
"Move, you runt!" shouted one of the guards behind me. I grimaced, wanting forever more to simply find out where and what this was. My eyes became wider and wider as they searched the disastrous area, intensively listening to that melody.
My brain was just as quick, coming up with questions that probably didn't have an answer; who could possibly know that lullaby? That song so safe and sound?
"What are you, made out of bricks!" another one of the guards shouted from behind, this time knocking me to the ground. I hissed, having some of the sand splash up into my eyes, causing them to sting. I rubbed them, trying to relieve the pain, slowly regaining my vision as well... seeing… seeing…
Impossibility.
"Dad!" I practically screamed with every amount of oxygen in my lungs, having my heart pound as I immediately scurried onto my feet, so shocked in disbelief that I nearly stumble over the ground while running as fast as my bare feet could carry me, my eyes forever locked on that man. My own father.
I called his name countless times, for we had an extremely long distance between us. But that didn't stop me from getting anywhere, even the guards that tried to catch up with me. I didn't care if I got whipped anymore, what the consequences where, dream or no dream, this was my father.
"Dad!"
(Reg. POV.)
Akuma had heard the voice almost too well for it to be a simple hallucination. With a very dreary and beaten look to his face, the slave looked up from the mush of muck he's been stomping on all day, seeing a definite sight for his sore eyes.
"Dad!"
This time Akuma was already making his way out of the pit, to which the guards did not like on bit. But that didn't stop him. He knew that quirky yet childish voice any day. This was his son.
"Akefia!" the man shouted, now running on his wobbly legs with a smile he hasn't shown in probably four, very lonesome years.
(Akefia's POV.)
And there it was. The best hug I'd ever received. It seemed so powerful, so emotionally real, that I even failed to keep myself standing. Along with my father, who hung onto me for dear life, fell to our knees. As I felt the familiar warm, caramel skin and its great level of protection, I just upped cried my eyes out. That wonderful feeling of a hand stoking my mattered hair came along; calming me like it always used to, and apparently still does.
"Oh, Akefia, I thought I'd never see you again," my fathers honeyed voice said, pulling back to face me. I, being the kid that I am, was ashamed to let my father see me cry. "Look at you… you've grown so much." he half laughed, having a tight hold on my shoulders. I continued to sob, having absolutely no idea what to say right now. It's not like I planned for this, much less ever thinking of the possibility of seeing the man I looked up to most.
"Dad," I half spoke, half cried. Said man looked at me with that smile I grew up with. That I never forgot, and… I shook my head, letting a new batch of tears rain down my face. "Don't ever let me go!" I nearly screamed, wrapping my shivering arms around my father's warm body. It was like all the emotions a human could feel where flooding into my mind, and I couldn't make out which one to express.
"Akefia. It's alright, you can cry. There's no shame in it."
They only way I could really describe this was like… a dream come true.
"I'm here, now. I'm by your side, okay?"
Or at least I thought it was until I was literally ripped from my father's grasp by four hands, and then slapped hard in the face, causing me to yelp at a high pitch.
My name was shouted by my father, who I failed to take notice of, for all my now blurred vision could make out was a tall man, dressed in all white, much like the other guards who pinned my arms down to the ground. I barely made a struggle due to the intense pounding in my head, and that the man standing before me was also speaking. "Now then, you little wretch," he began with a sly voice. "Let's teach you a lesson!"
That crack.
I've heard it go off so many times… but I never guessed that it one day could be inflicted on me.
And straight across the eye, no less.
My lungs wailed out a scream, possibly louder than the strike of the whip, and probably stung my throat just as bad as the deathly weapon had cut my face. I rolled over to my side, hands now cradling my throbbing face in terrible agony, still letting out an ear-splitting screech that not even I could bare. Soon, I felt the warm blood ooze out from the cracks of my fingers, and smear across my tear ridden face.
This was no bad dream. It was simple hell.
"Son of a bitch!"
I suddenly removed my hands from their place among hearing the enraged voice that belonged to my father. The honey tone was gone though. Actually, I didn't quite believe that the man I saw, that had just thrown a nasty punch towards the guard who whipped me, was indeed my father. But yet it was.
The look in his eyes, though. It was terrifying. "Don't you lay another finger on my son!" he yelled, looking ready to throw another fist at anybody who dared test his statement. As scary as he may have sounded, he was still just one man. There were guards, trying to tame my father by pinning him to the ground, and probably doing what they had done to me.
My eyes nearly popped out of their sockets at the thought of my father experiencing that, horrid pain! I couldn't bear the images. "Stop!" I screamed, my voice becoming hoarse. "Don't hurt him! Please!" My limbs trembled as I tried to make my way to where my father was being dog piled, though was unfortunately pulled back into a forearm lock by two other guards.
The men now have my father held down to the sandy ground, his face twisted with hatred and shame all in one expression. The guard who had whipped me came towards him.
I started bawling.
"No! Stop! Stop it all, please! I'm begging, don't hurt him! Please, please!" I prayed to Yahweh, Ra, whatever god may there be, to end this, this, this insanity!
My limbs flailed all over the place, trying to kick or struggle my way out of this mess, this stupid, stupid mess!
But yet my cries must not be considered merciful enough to have gotten a simple question, as simple plea answered.
My eyes stung with tears and grains of sand, making them a devilish pink while I experienced my father get beaten and slain by the instrument of my entire lullaby. My voice finally cracked with the loudest, most drawn out no my throat could possibly handle. It was really the only way I could drown out that terrible crack of pain being inflicted onto my father's caramel back.
But never the less… nothing could even erase the scene that finally opened my closed eyes.
The simple sight of my father crying and smiling.
And dying.
And from the pure shock of that scene, erupted a sudden strength inside my very existence I didn't even know could be possible. In a dream. Not a nightmare.
Someway, somehow, i frees myself from the guards, and just full-on rammed into the man with the whip. The tackle was so strong, I even knocked him to the ground, and with the split second of shock he had from it, I tore the whip's handle from his damn dirty hands, and held the weapon high in the sky.
This of course, scarred the guards who were pinning my bleeding father, and they backed away with the terrified look in their eyes that min used to hold. I almost laughed. How quickly a game can change.
But…
The whip's handle slipped from my now limp fingers as my knees plummeted to the ground, and next to my injured father, I began to cry once more. I held his head in my lap, brushing away the tears I never thought he had in him. This was the man I looked up to. The man I followed. The man I one day wanted to be….
My eyelids drifted to a tight shut, letting my tears fall like my aching heart into a fiery pit of merciless misery.
That was until the head in my hand suddenly shifted. My eyes flashed open, seeing the half lidded ones of my fathers. My breath was caught when I saw those lavender eyes open up and his friendly smile return. I cried harder as a hand steadily reached up to clasp my cheek, soft and soothingly. I leaned into the touch, feeling just a tiny bit of safeness.
"P… porrid-dge." Was all my father's worn and creaky voice could say. My brows furrowed together. "W-what?" I stuttered, confused and oddly scared by the unnoticeable tone that he spoke in.
"Porridge." He repeated, more fluently this time, eyes floating off in their own world. "It… it rhymes… it rhymes with orange, Akefia." He laughed with a smile, with glistening tears slightly leaking from the corners of his eyes, mouth opened like he wanted to add more, but…
He just laughed. Laughed with that honey tone that I've known since birth. And with his last and final breath. He only cried.
My fingers grew numb as I stared back into grey, lifeless eyes. Empty of laughter, and full of tears.
My eyes widened when I felt the heart beat… the heart beat in my lullaby… beat no more.
That's when my lullaby came crashing into an ensemble of pure anger and plain insanity.
With a roar of hatred, my hand quickly grasped onto the whip I had dropped earlier, and I turned around to face the guards, thrashing the weapon in any direction I pleased. "Why?" I screamed with a broken voice. "Why would you kill a man! Wh-what has he ever done so wrong on to deserve the price of death!"
My face was a wreck with blood and tears as I lashed the whip not ever hitting anyone but the air itself. "Give one good answer to why, in a sensual kingdom, would you kill your own kind? Huh?" I exclaimed with watery eyes among the crowd of guards and slaves, practically begging for just one answer to sooth my throbbing head.
The entire city seemed to grow silent.
I shook my head in complete and utter disbelief. "Then you shouldn't have done it in the first place!" falling onto my knees, lips formed in the most sadistic of ways and eyes burning with question. My head dropped, and from then on I simply cried. The whip in my hand plummeted onto the ground, I disgusted with the fact I even picked the wretched thing up.
I think I must have fainted somewhere along the lines of that moment. I don't ever remember being pushed or dragged away to my cell. They were probably too scared to do so. Wouldn't you be scared if you saw a nightmare become reality?
o.O.o
I was petrified by the fact that it was reality. I mean, there, there's just no way a person could dream up such a pain inducing event like that! I-it's just utterly impossible…!
But wasn't dreams made for the impossible to happen…?
My body thrashed about my cell, my fist hitting the walls for escape of this brutal cage, I screaming shrills of nonsense, channeling this unknown emotion in the only way my child mind knew how. By having a complete temper tantrum.
My head ached while my puffy eyes cried endless rivers of tears, still mixing into the inferno cut that gashed across my dirt coated face. It hurt. It hurt really bad. But I couldn't help it. I didn't know any better, what else I could do but to just cry and whine and hit the walls with all the useless power I had.
Soon I was completely drained. The kicks and punches had ceased and my legs gave way. I slowly slid myself to the floor, almost digging my fingers into the cracks of the wall, longing for some type of comfort, a sign of protection. But there was nothing that could compare to being cuddled in the arms of someone you trust and look up to…
Tears continued to leak from my screwed shut eyes, asking only one thing to none of the people who cared to listen.
"Why…?"
My little voice was so cracked. The word was nothing but a broken question with no reasonable answer. But I still asked. Why? Why did this happen? I just want to know… is it too much to ask? Too much to get a simple reply…?
Apparently so.
I curled in on myself, edging my body into the wall like it should just somehow grow arms and comfort me. Listen to that… I'm going crazy. My minds so confused and cluttered with unanswered questions, it's not making any sense.
I had covered my ears with my hands as I sobbed even harder, not wanting to hear those worthless cries that didn't even appeal to the likes of those who could help me…
But there was no reason to help me. Nobody ever has before, so why would they start now?
That's it then… I'm just goanna rot away like my collapsed mind. Perfect sense… absolutely perfect.
Then why didn't it feel that way? My eye twitched. Another answerless question. More tears came. I screamed this time.
But not loud enough not to hear a devilish laugh echo through the cell. I gasped sharply at the sound of hearing laughter rather than sobs.
"Well, well, what do we have here," a very sly and deep tone rang about. I raised my head from my hand and stared through hazed eyes. I blinked a few time. "Another lost soul, on the line between reality and insanity, Hm?" My reddened eyes widened. It was a white cobra. Talking to me. The eyes where slanted on a menacing angle and were as red as the dried blood on my sickening face.
The muscles above its eyes cringed together. "Oh come now, dear boy, don't look at me like that. I only want to help you." I starred at the serpent with terror, shaking so hard I thought my skin would fall off my arms. "…Wh-why w-would you d-do that-t?" my voice shook.
The snake slithered its way across the floor, gazing it's sight downward, like it was thinking. "You ask quite a lot of questions, don't you?" my brows knitted together. Lost for words, I simply nodded my head. The thing seems to have chuckled, if that where possible. "But yet you never do get answers," The serpent stopped and froze solid, slowly rolling its eyes over in my direction. "Tell me, boy. How much would you give to get answers?"
"W-who a-are you?" I asked with a quiet voice. The snake smiled, bearing it's fangs white nicely. "The answer to all your questions." It answered back with a smile so poisoning it dripped with venom. My eyes focused.
Now I was curious.
"T-to what?" i shyly questioned. "To everything!" the cobra hissed, getting extremely close to my face, it's red eyes glowing mad. I curled tighter into a ball, shivering harder as I closed my eyes shut. "Oh come boy, don't go closing your eyes," the snake cooed, slithering backwards. "It does no good now. You know you're awake and living in the real world. Open your eyes, stop and accept. That's something you can do without strength."
I looked into those eyes with horror and amazement. This can't be happening. "I-I'm talking, t-to a snake," I shivered, mind slowly imploding on itself. "I'm talking, to a snake! That-that's impossible, I-I'm going insane!" my body fell to the floor as I shrieked the truth, breath becoming uneven and choppy.
"I'm glad you've realized that." said the snake, "I was beginning to think you'd never admit it." I stared the snake, eyes bulging and arms shaking. "W-what d-do you m-mean?"
The cobra snickered, "Because then I have the power to help you."
And now i'm interested.
"…help me?"
"Why, yes," the serpent quirked, eyes flashing. "In this terrible, terrible, game called of life, where the poor little slave can't live without being assisted by something… special, let's call it, defeat those pesky sinners."
My brows knitted again. What did he mean by game? "D… defeat?" I questioned, my mind barely gripping onto the fact that I was talking with a lizard for god's sake. "Of course, my dear boy." the snake smiled slyly, slithering its way to where I sit so frozen. "That feeling you have? It's called vengeance, and the only way to settle it is to bring pain to those who have hurt you… scarred you."
He expression on my face was unsure. But the snake went on explaining. "Just think about it, though. Raining anarchy down upon this dreaded city that has caused you nothing but pain and suffering! Letting them know that the mistakes they've made call for great consequences! And you, my dear boy… you are that consequence."
I shut my eyes, not able to take the words flowing through my ears. But it really didn't help much, not at all, for I saw everything. All that fire, all the blood, the screams, and tears… it all happened because of this city.
A peaceful grin played out upon my lips.
I had an answer to why I would want revenge.
It was Cairo. Everything happened because of them. So it only made sense. It made perfect, perfect, sense. I can see it now. Asking me why, why I would spread ciaos. I would simply say the name of this despicable kingdom, and it would still make as much sense. But they didn't have a reason. None of them had an answer to why they made my life such a living hell. Perfect sense…
My eyes fluttered open, staring back into the glowing ones of the white cobra, who smiled just the same. "Is there a price for this special gift?" I asked a little seriously. The snake chuckled, "What a smart boy you are." It slithered away from me once again, sighting the floor like it had before. After a moment of nothing, it's head rolled to face me, eyes deep and haunting. "Give me half your heart, and I'll grant you the power only a true god could bare."
My grin only extended. The images of what I could do to the guilty citizens of this cruel city where endlessly flowing through my mind, barely hearing the words the cobra was saying to me. The eyes of the snake sharpened as I agreed to his offer.
"Your eyes may be open dear boy…" the cobra stated with a deep tone, slithering its way to where I sit so content. "But I must say it'll be a pleasure waking you up!"
The last thing I saw was the bared fangs of the white serpent, striking the gash upon my eye.
Ouch.
That was definitely going to leave a scar.
o.O.o
(Reg. POV.)
The sun had long since set, and now the night moves slowly along the hands of time as Kalim and his top class soldiers moved through the long hallways of the slave chambers. Why? Well apparently one of the guards got scared because he heard a creepy noise from inside the cell hall. What a wimp.
But it was still under strict law that he, being the head warden of the slaves, must investigate all problems, even by the silliest circumstances.
"Please sir, you must believe me, t-there is no other humane sound like so that our mortal ears have ever encountered!" Plead the elderly guard, shaking by Kalim side as he strolled to the cells. "Quiet, you! I'll leave that up to my own eyes and ears to testify." The warden harshly warned after endless minutes of hearing the man's explanations of how terrible the situation all was.
Though as he made the turn to enter one of the many cell halls, his eyes open wider than they normally ever would. How could you if you saw that every one of the cell doors where unlocked and emptied?
Kalim face wavered from shocked to angry in a snap. "How did this happen!" he growled while taking hold of the elders shirt, who was more terrified than anything. "I-I-I-I don't know, sir, please!" the man pleaded, his oxygen slowly being cut off.
The warden hissed and released his grasp, shoving the older guard to the floor, and then turned to face the other soldiers. "I want this entire place searched over until we find every last one of those ruthless slaves! Now go!" Kalim ordered the men, quickly leading them down the hallway. However, one of the younger guards had slowed down his pace as something caught his attention.
It was a cell, in which the door remained closed. And with all the other doors being open, this particular cell stuck out like a sore thumb. With growing curiosity, the young man undid the lock and opened the cell door. He proceeded inside the enclosure with careful eyes.
Not careful enough.
The vision of said soldier was blinded by a light, and burned by the heat of what seemed to be a quick flash of fire. His eyes where scorched and he screamed out in agony, already curled onto the floor. With blurring vision, the last thing the poor guard had seen was little feet emerge from the casted shadow inside the cell, along with a childish giggle echoing in his deafening ears.
Black out.
o.O.o
It had been nearly two maybe three hours, and no prisoner was to be spotted. This left Kalim and the other guards dumbfounded as they began to double, even triple search the kingdom, but to no prevail.
The investigation continued where it had started; back inside the slaves chambers, living by the expression, follow your footsteps.
"Sir!" a guard had suddenly called, catching the attention of a worried Kalim, who began walking to where the caller was. "Look here," the man handled the lock on one of the cell doors, showing it to the warden, who became confused at the deformed shape. "The lock's been completely destroyed," The man noted aloud, "Like it was melted off."
Kalim eased himself to his feet, slowly scanning the rows of cell doors. Hi eyes became glassy. "They've all been destroyed." he breathed, almost astonished that this had even happened. How he hoped that this occurrence was all just in his head, a simple bad dream.
The warden swiftly turned around when he had heard his name shouted from the other end of the hall. "One of our soldiers has been injured!" a guard shouted while helping another carry a younger man in their arms. Kalim rushed to them as they'd carefully sat the injured man down on the floor, still supporting him since he was in a daze.
Oh, but how horrid he looked. The guard's entire face seemed like he had held a torch to it, leaving the skin to wrinkle up and peel scraps of tissue. His eyes barely opened. Kalim asked him, "How did this happen?"
The younger heaved in a large breathe, and hesitated to say much, making the area fall dead silent. When the hurt man opened his swollen lips, you could think everyone gasped. "A… child." his voice was hoarse, "It… came out of, nowhere. Hidden in the shadows… and that devilish laugh–"
Before the guard was given a chance to end his sentence, the described laugh was echoed around them, having some of the soldiers clutching their spears in warning while other simply gazed about the hallway, looking for the owner to such a childlike voice.
"Just like that one." the injured guard breathed with a small grin. Kalim looked terrified into the man's greying eyes, soon becoming angered that he didn't know what was going on.
And with that anger, he stood up and shouted to his men, "We will find this child, slave, whatever it may be, if it means searching the entire land of Egypt! Now go–"But the order was cut short when the line of torches hung among both sides of the hallway wall where suddenly deflamed, leaving the Egyptians stranded in total darkness. Well, almost total.
A small orange glow shone in the opposite direction that Kalim was facing, causing him to turn around, heart ponding like a drum. His eyes nearly popped from his head when he saw nothing more than a lit candle, dully flickering in the darkness. It looked as if someone was holding it…
A face seemed to be floating directly being the candle, but the only thing you could make out was the cheeky grin upon young lips. Nothing else was apparent; shadows casted upon the eyes and nose. It was rather haunting.
"Catch me if you can." The young voice echoed, giggling as the flame on the candle headed out the entryway and into the main hall. Kalim pushed aside his shocked expression and instead ordered his guards to follow the light.
As the men rummaged through the darkened halls, the flickering flame grew smaller and small. With very twist and turn they made, the large crowds of soldiers dwindled into small groups, splitting up to take hold of the escaping child.
But to no prevail.
o.O.o
The child was too smart for their own minds. The minds he so wanted to destroy, like they did to his own mind. His own heart and life. Destroy everything. Just like this city did.
He giggled again, his bare feet pitter pattering as he stalked through the halls, the only light to be seen was that of the candle. The boy had used that exacting tool to free the other slaves, chained up like dogs. How they escaped so quickly, he didn't know, nor did he really care. The only thing he really cared about was… spreading chaos.
The child's grin extended.
The feeling was so grand as the boy rushed through the halls, seeing the stories of Egyptian past carved and painted upon the walls. How he would enjoy seeing them crumble to bits.
The bot stopped abruptly, slowly turning his gaze to the left.
It was a doorway. And a big one at that.
The child stared up at the arch, eyes shining as he hummed his laughter, and entered the room.
o.O.o
It felt like they'd been running in circles. Every wall looked the same to Kalim, even though he'd passed through them almost every day of his life. But that all does change once the lights go out.
Quite often had they heard the little giggle and seen a glimpse of the candles flame, but only to turn around and realize it was no longer there.
Kalim lead his guards with a grimace upon his face, very disgusted that the fact he was being fooled by a mere child. Or so he thinks.
For what little kid would have the mind to free a chunk of the slaves and then start testing the capabilities of the Egyptians? The answer is simple. There is no child. He may look innocent enough to be one, but in reality…
That innocent little child died long ago.
o.O.o
The boy was very curious.
When he had entered the room, only lit by two blazers, he had discovered a large platform at the top of a stacked stair case, taking up most of floor area. The ceiling was high, and decorated with extravagant hieroglyphics, and sparkles of gold eliminating from the blazers flame.
He'd destroy that too, when he got the chance.
But now wasn't the right time to go completely nuts yet. No, this was a game after all. If the child made an attack now, it wouldn't be as fun as building up to the moment.
He reached the top of the stair case. His teeth glistened off of the candles fire.
And plus, the boy may have just found something worth keeping.
o.O.o
And just when hope seemed to be lost, one of the soldiers spotted the flickering flame from the entrance that the boy had entered.
But they didn't know that he had entered. It was just a wild guess.
With a quiet voice, Kalim motioned for them to go inside the room.
Kalim was peaked around the entryway, and say the boy standing upon the staircase.
His eyes widened. "Stop right there!" he shouted, ramming right on inside the large chamber.
The boy casually turned his neck around to face the man, who just kept on walking to where he stood, a smile growing upon his young face. He turned his head back around, lavender eyes sparkling upon the brown leather book seated upon a pedestal.
"Don't you touch that book!" Kalim exclaimed, getting closer to the boy.
"My name is unknown,"
The warden's face grimaced. "I know you hear me, boy!"
"For I am all alone,"
This time, Kalim simply pulled out his dagger and raced up the steps, having enough of this child's nonsense. The guards came shortly after him.
"None of you heard my plea,"
They yelled for their leader to stop his actions, but it was too late now.
"So now,"
Kalim nearly screamed as he drove his dagger into the child's skull. The boy turned around to face the attacker
"This city is dead to me!"
The candles flame was the last sight any of those men had seen before being burned alive, their own cries of pain and mercy being the last sound either of them would hear while the gods collected their dying souls.
The boy smiled.
His lullaby lives on.
OD: *Waves* hey guys... i bet ya'll really wanna hurt me for not updating in a while, don't you? Well please don't! Whaaa, i't's a super long chapter, so i hope it made up for my absence! Hehe... on a different note... whoa, alot happened in this chapter. Like ALOT. You got akefia's dad dying, Tekuta coming along (you;ll se who she is in later chapters if you dont already know), akefia going insane (shall i say), and then the little mistery bit at the end. My first time with mystery, so i hope it turned out okay...
OD: And to answer som possible questions... no, akefia's father was not in kul elna's slaughter, that was oly his mother. Remember how he got ambushed when he was traveling to Cairo? He surrendered, and was then put as a slave. So that what happened with thim...
OD: the talking snake... i'm not gonna say to much about him. You should be able to put peices together from the show ;P
OD: Who's tekuta? Hehe, you'll find out...
OD: what book was akefia staring at? The Millennium Spell Book. Why? You'll find out :P
OD: ...what? If i didn't give you guys any cliffs, you wouldn't com back and read this. I gotta keep ya hooked somehow... well thanks for reading, and please reveiw ^^
And for Crazy-Queen's... You'll have to read and see when i'll go back to ryou and bakura. But let me just say the pay off is a good one :3
Yu-Gi-Oh! is Owned By Kazuki Takahashi.