Tittle: Arabian Knight
Chapter: 4, Numb
Rating: PG-13-ish
Ranting: Death to all spatulas! Want to find out why? Email me!
Email: ladyhiko@yahoo.com
URL: http://www.geocities.com/ladyhiko
http://www.geocitiel.com/sailorpluto23/MoonLightRoses
Now where did we leave off? Oh yeah, now I remember. Let's recap what happened last time.
It was then that the little girl noticed something, more like somethings creeping along the backs of
the crowd, just as Luna had once done. When one of them, a tall brunette, took some coins out of another poor unsuspecting man's pouch, Serenity decided to imitate what that other man had done as she yelled, "STOP THIEF!" at the top of her lungs, breaking the spell that the fire dancer seemed to have cast over the crowd.
Thoroughly angered, the crowd left, leaving poor Serenity to be singled out by the small band of thieves. The two fire jugglers from the back doused the dancer out as the ringleader stormed towards the poor girl, the dancer in hot pursuit.
~~~~~~~~
"Why you little brat!" Yelled the ringleader, thoroughly enraged at the small child as he ran towards her, of course, causing her to take flight.
"Anton stop!" yelled 'Lady Hiko', her arm barely hooking on to the man's as he was almost on the poor child.
Flames evident in his eyes, he turned towards the fire dancer seething, "What?!"
Shaking her head, she whispered, "She's just a kid, she doesn't know any better."
"Point being?"
"We're only kids too."
Off in the background the poor little girl had just recently caught the corner of a stand with her arm, causing her to fall to the ground. Seeing this, 'Lady Hiko' slowly walked towards the girl now nursing her arm, Anton following closely behind. The child, as hurt as she was, began to scoot backwards at the sight of Anton, thoroughly scared of him. This, being as obvious as it was, caused Hiko to signal for Anton to stay put. Lowering herself to the child's height, she began to slowly hobble to the shaking child.
She still scooted back.
Hiko stayed in place.
Cocking her head slightly to the side and placing a hand in the dirt she eyed the child, whispering a soft, "Shhh...I won't hurt you," in efforts to calm the impaired child.
The child didn't move.
Hiko hobbled forward.
The child scooted backward.
This was not going to work.
Eyeing the topless 'men', Hiko moved to make a swift signal, and with that the two men tackled the small child. But of course, seeing as how things never seem to work out, that was about the time the child spotted blood, and passed out.
Okay, so maybe, just maybe, that was of some help. She couldn't run if she was passed out now could she. So seeing that that had happened, Hiko came and took the golden child from the blond juggler.
"Poor thing..." was all she spoke as she began to head towards the rolling stage that was currently their home.
But as I told you, things tend to go wrong.
Now you see, Anton was one of the main ringleaders, and he kind of, sort of, spotted what was going on, and knew of Hiko's soft heart. With that in mind he chased over to her, stopping in front of her to block her way.
"Hold on a second, what do you think you're doing?"
"What does it look like? I'm taking her home."
"Oh no you don't. I don't need another mouth to feed! We can barely support ourselves as it is and she just blew your cover! You can't pose as Lady Hiko anymore Ang!"
"Point being?"
"The point is..."
"The point is that she doesn't have a home."
"And how do you suppose that is?"
"Didn't you notice? No one was with her."
"So, maybe she just wandered from her parents."
"No one came to claim her."
"That doesn't prove anything!"
"It proves everything. Now before you fire off your mouth again, hear me out."
"Fine."
"I know you don't have a lot of money, it took a lot to purchase me, but that didn't stop you from getting me out of there, now did it?"
"Well?"
"I was in need of help, and you helped me. What makes her any different?"
"This is different."
"No, it isn't. She's in need, and so was I. If it's money troubles that is bothering you, then I'll teach her to make us some money."
"She's not dancing in the flames."
"Of course not, besides, who would suspect a four year old pick pocket?"
And with that she continued her way to the stage, Anton eyeing her sadly as she went.
"What are you getting us into Angela?" He whispered. Turning his head to the two topless men, he ordered, " I need you to keep a watch out, they're probably on to us now." And as he began to walk away he turned and said, "Scratch that thought. Damion, Jarod, we move out tonight."
And so the moon slowly slid towards the horizon as the stage moved out of sight and into the night.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* Author's notes *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Yeah, I know. It was exceedingly short, but a few people had some questions, and remember it's only part A. I thought I'd give a few people some answers, considering there were a LOT of questions. Does this help you any Pluto-san? Oh yeah, Marcus is the sultan, I don't know how clear on that I was.
Oh well, Ja ne for now!
~Lady Hiko
*~ I came, I slept, I saw.~*
Wait a second! That's not right! Oh well, how much does anyone expect to get right at 11:40 p.m.?
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Well, actually, I decided to finish this rather than to torture you...if that ending would have.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Three years later, the palace...
It had been three years since the little princess had gone missing, three years! And they were still searching for her. Mass produced paintings of the little girl, drawn from the prince's point of view, were posted throughout the city. The sultan had sent out a few small bands of search parties years ago, and they had yet to return.
Unfortunately, things still hadn't gone well. For on this gloomy day, the inner flame of two souls were snuffed out. The winds howled with the agony of it, as rain pelted those who dared to walk the streets in sheets. For the past few years the sultan's health flickered between being bed ridden to walking among his people in the streets. Those were times of bliss when the sultan and his son could spend time together, sometimes studying, sometimes playing games. Endymion had a father once again, and was starting to shake off the cold distanceness in him. His eyes were always cunning and alight as if there was some great fire burning inside. His skin was tan, and he was forever smiling, though the smile would dim down when his dad was in bed. But now it was like that flame was snuffed out, never to rekindle again. Every time his dad was bedridden, they'd light a candle, meant to be a symbol of the sultan's health to his people, and put it in the window.
It was on this day that the candle was put out. A storm had been brewing all day, the sun completely covered in the sky. The clouds hung low, giving the feeling of foreboding as Endymion walked towards his father's room. Marcus had thought that he'd be back on his feet again and had called Endymion in to discuss what they were going to do tomorrow. He was thinking along the lines of going to an oasis with his son and Alexandria and wanted to run it by Endymion now that he had a new advisor, a seemingly unnaturally white haired man named Artemis.
Of course, Artemis had insisted on getting Endymion some bodyguards, even though the people were happy and not liable to revolt. But being the reasonable man that he was, Marcus had commissioned on getting four of them. Each were a year above or equal to his son's age in hopes that he would make friends with them and form a bond to help later in life. Yes, I guess that you could say that they were all right, but Endymion wanted to be with his father more. He didn't know why, but he always felt as though he should be close by him as much as possible, sensing that time was closing in on him. But he couldn't figure out the reason why.
As he jogged down the various corridors leading to his parent's bedchamber, (AN: Yes, he's well enough to be near the sultana. The disease, whatever it was, was found to be not contagious.) one single memory persisted in his mind.
It was on the eve of his 9th birthday, and his father was sick in bed again. He was on his bed, crying, not wanting to be alone in the world a second time. Slowly he heard the door creak open and within the paling light of the moon, Marcus closely resembling a ghost as he crept in still in his nightclothes. He had heard his son's muffled sobs, and had come to investigate. Using a cane to steady him, he crept over to his son, a cushioned thump every other step. Endymion had been brought out of his revere by the feeling of his father's hand on his back, slowly rubbing it in attempts to comfort. Through the water in his eyes and the pale light of the moon he mistook his father for already dead, and believed this to be a phantom image of him. He began to bawl once again.
Not knowing the reason as to his son's pain, he knelt down to his son's level and called his name, stroking his hair at the same time. Feeling his hand on his head with his own hand, Endymion picked up his tear streaked face to look at his father, finally realizing he was real.
"What's wrong?" Marcus asked, finally having his son's full attention.
Endymion did what he had never done before in his life as he jumped into his father's arms, nearly knocking the poor man over. Nuzzling his head into his father's shoulder, he just simply said, " I don't want to loose you again..."
The sultan's eyes widened in surprise, "Again? Endymion, you've never lost me. I've always been here...er in spirit."
"I had thought that you had died..."
"Died! Don't worry, it takes more than this weak disease to kill your old man!"
"So, you're not going to die?"
"Not for a long time, not for a long time."
"Promise?"
"Promise."
Endymion thought to himself as he jogged into his father's room. Seeing him in that bed was always disheartening, but he still stepped up to his father's bedside. "You called," he asked, waiting for his father's usual rasp. His voice was always so pleasant when he was well, something that was surely missed when he was sick.
"I was thinking that maybe you, your mother and I would go to an oasis tomorrow. Have some fun. What do you think?"
Did he have to ask?! I think not!
"Of course I would like to go!" Endymion yelled in the pure elation of the thought of going. Oasis were always fun for him, chock full of so many different creatures that didn't live at home, his home.
A glimpse of that memory flashed in his head.
"Are you sure you'll be well enough to go?" Endymion tentatively asked.
"Of course! It'll take a lot more than this to keep your old man down!" Marcus replied to ease his son. "Now you," he said, playfully batting his son's arm. "Go to bed. I want you all rested up before tomorrow. Now shoo."
Sighing, he turned on his foot, throwing a 'fine' as he shuffled out the door.
It was later that night that he'd awaken from his sleep deep in cold sweat. Only once before he had done that before, the night the little girl was drowning.
His heart was racing like never before. He jumped out of the bed, racing out his bed chamber door, not knowing where he was going, just letting his instincts lead the way. The blood was rushing to his head, or rather from it, of which he did not know as he got a dizzying effect as he got closer to his destination. And then he stopped, stopped right in front of his parents' door. He could hear his mother's screams inside, a scream that froze the blood in his veins, accompanied with the hard knocking sound of something beating against the headboard or floor.
Something was very wrong.
Quickly reaching the door, he began to open it, only to be bowled over by his frightened mother, getting sprawled on the floor. But that was not what bothered him, but what was inside. There on the floor beside his parents' bed, lay his father, twitching uncontrollably, his eyes completely out of focus as his head banged relentlessly on the floor. Alexandria got off her son, fleetly scooting to the wall. She just sat there; her knees brought up to her chest, biting her nails as tears poured silently from her eyes. "Marcus...Marcus..." was the only sound that seeped through her lips in the quietest of whispers. Endymion rushed to his father, trying to pin him down so that he wouldn't hurt himself anymore, only to be knocked aside by his father's uncontrollable flailing arms.
"Help! Someone, I need HELP!" Endymion cried, desperate to help his father who's head was now banging so hard that blood leaked from his lips.
Then, just as suddenly as it came it stopped, just completely and utterly stopped. Everything just stopped, everything in Endymion's world just stopped. Silence, so loud and frightening that Endymion thought he would go deaf surrounded him. He held his breath, hoping to hear his father breathe, but there was no sound, not even from his mother. Hands shaking and fear in his eyes Endymion crawled over to his father's side, his hand landing in the pool of blood his father had created. He put his ear up to his father's chest, hoping, praying to hear something, anything.
Silence, it was so loud and stirring, encompassing him. He just knelt there, completely frozen in shock as the physicians pushed him aside. The world began to flow in slow motion as the physicians pronounced him dead. His mother began to shriek, "Marcus! Marcus!" as she ran to him, her face paling as she collapsed on his body, cruel sobs racking her body. But he didn't hear it though. The physicians desperately tried to peal the distraught Sultana from the body as she shrieked louder scratching at them to let her go. But he didn't hear it. That light, that flame that burned so brilliantly in his eyes was snuffed out, just died at that very moment. The second his head hit his father's chest it was all over for him. Numbly he got up, passing the now covered body that used to be his father, stepping past the shrieking form that was his mother, only one goal left in his dead mind.
A darkness, the thing that kept him numb, was whispering in his ear, blocking all thought.
Why go on?...What's there left for you to live for?...
Why not end it all?
was his last thought as he walked straight ahead, nimbly stepping through the billowing curtains, the candle already blown out, stepping up onto the balcony, reaching for the rails...
~*~*~*~*~*~* Author's notes *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
* Runs quickly out of the room, hiding in some concealed spot, waiting for readers to kill her*
Sowie?
Feel free to email me, flame me, or whatever! Just don't send me any viruses!
~Lady Hiko
ladyhiko@yahoo.com
http://www.geocities.com/ladyhiko is under construction.
http://www.geocities.com/sailorpluto23/MoonLightRoses
Chapter: 4, Numb
Rating: PG-13-ish
Ranting: Death to all spatulas! Want to find out why? Email me!
Email: ladyhiko@yahoo.com
URL: http://www.geocities.com/ladyhiko
http://www.geocitiel.com/sailorpluto23/MoonLightRoses
Now where did we leave off? Oh yeah, now I remember. Let's recap what happened last time.
It was then that the little girl noticed something, more like somethings creeping along the backs of
the crowd, just as Luna had once done. When one of them, a tall brunette, took some coins out of another poor unsuspecting man's pouch, Serenity decided to imitate what that other man had done as she yelled, "STOP THIEF!" at the top of her lungs, breaking the spell that the fire dancer seemed to have cast over the crowd.
Thoroughly angered, the crowd left, leaving poor Serenity to be singled out by the small band of thieves. The two fire jugglers from the back doused the dancer out as the ringleader stormed towards the poor girl, the dancer in hot pursuit.
~~~~~~~~
"Why you little brat!" Yelled the ringleader, thoroughly enraged at the small child as he ran towards her, of course, causing her to take flight.
"Anton stop!" yelled 'Lady Hiko', her arm barely hooking on to the man's as he was almost on the poor child.
Flames evident in his eyes, he turned towards the fire dancer seething, "What?!"
Shaking her head, she whispered, "She's just a kid, she doesn't know any better."
"Point being?"
"We're only kids too."
Off in the background the poor little girl had just recently caught the corner of a stand with her arm, causing her to fall to the ground. Seeing this, 'Lady Hiko' slowly walked towards the girl now nursing her arm, Anton following closely behind. The child, as hurt as she was, began to scoot backwards at the sight of Anton, thoroughly scared of him. This, being as obvious as it was, caused Hiko to signal for Anton to stay put. Lowering herself to the child's height, she began to slowly hobble to the shaking child.
She still scooted back.
Hiko stayed in place.
Cocking her head slightly to the side and placing a hand in the dirt she eyed the child, whispering a soft, "Shhh...I won't hurt you," in efforts to calm the impaired child.
The child didn't move.
Hiko hobbled forward.
The child scooted backward.
This was not going to work.
Eyeing the topless 'men', Hiko moved to make a swift signal, and with that the two men tackled the small child. But of course, seeing as how things never seem to work out, that was about the time the child spotted blood, and passed out.
Okay, so maybe, just maybe, that was of some help. She couldn't run if she was passed out now could she. So seeing that that had happened, Hiko came and took the golden child from the blond juggler.
"Poor thing..." was all she spoke as she began to head towards the rolling stage that was currently their home.
But as I told you, things tend to go wrong.
Now you see, Anton was one of the main ringleaders, and he kind of, sort of, spotted what was going on, and knew of Hiko's soft heart. With that in mind he chased over to her, stopping in front of her to block her way.
"Hold on a second, what do you think you're doing?"
"What does it look like? I'm taking her home."
"Oh no you don't. I don't need another mouth to feed! We can barely support ourselves as it is and she just blew your cover! You can't pose as Lady Hiko anymore Ang!"
"Point being?"
"The point is..."
"The point is that she doesn't have a home."
"And how do you suppose that is?"
"Didn't you notice? No one was with her."
"So, maybe she just wandered from her parents."
"No one came to claim her."
"That doesn't prove anything!"
"It proves everything. Now before you fire off your mouth again, hear me out."
"Fine."
"I know you don't have a lot of money, it took a lot to purchase me, but that didn't stop you from getting me out of there, now did it?"
"Well?"
"I was in need of help, and you helped me. What makes her any different?"
"This is different."
"No, it isn't. She's in need, and so was I. If it's money troubles that is bothering you, then I'll teach her to make us some money."
"She's not dancing in the flames."
"Of course not, besides, who would suspect a four year old pick pocket?"
And with that she continued her way to the stage, Anton eyeing her sadly as she went.
"What are you getting us into Angela?" He whispered. Turning his head to the two topless men, he ordered, " I need you to keep a watch out, they're probably on to us now." And as he began to walk away he turned and said, "Scratch that thought. Damion, Jarod, we move out tonight."
And so the moon slowly slid towards the horizon as the stage moved out of sight and into the night.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* Author's notes *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Yeah, I know. It was exceedingly short, but a few people had some questions, and remember it's only part A. I thought I'd give a few people some answers, considering there were a LOT of questions. Does this help you any Pluto-san? Oh yeah, Marcus is the sultan, I don't know how clear on that I was.
Oh well, Ja ne for now!
~Lady Hiko
*~ I came, I slept, I saw.~*
Wait a second! That's not right! Oh well, how much does anyone expect to get right at 11:40 p.m.?
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Well, actually, I decided to finish this rather than to torture you...if that ending would have.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Three years later, the palace...
It had been three years since the little princess had gone missing, three years! And they were still searching for her. Mass produced paintings of the little girl, drawn from the prince's point of view, were posted throughout the city. The sultan had sent out a few small bands of search parties years ago, and they had yet to return.
Unfortunately, things still hadn't gone well. For on this gloomy day, the inner flame of two souls were snuffed out. The winds howled with the agony of it, as rain pelted those who dared to walk the streets in sheets. For the past few years the sultan's health flickered between being bed ridden to walking among his people in the streets. Those were times of bliss when the sultan and his son could spend time together, sometimes studying, sometimes playing games. Endymion had a father once again, and was starting to shake off the cold distanceness in him. His eyes were always cunning and alight as if there was some great fire burning inside. His skin was tan, and he was forever smiling, though the smile would dim down when his dad was in bed. But now it was like that flame was snuffed out, never to rekindle again. Every time his dad was bedridden, they'd light a candle, meant to be a symbol of the sultan's health to his people, and put it in the window.
It was on this day that the candle was put out. A storm had been brewing all day, the sun completely covered in the sky. The clouds hung low, giving the feeling of foreboding as Endymion walked towards his father's room. Marcus had thought that he'd be back on his feet again and had called Endymion in to discuss what they were going to do tomorrow. He was thinking along the lines of going to an oasis with his son and Alexandria and wanted to run it by Endymion now that he had a new advisor, a seemingly unnaturally white haired man named Artemis.
Of course, Artemis had insisted on getting Endymion some bodyguards, even though the people were happy and not liable to revolt. But being the reasonable man that he was, Marcus had commissioned on getting four of them. Each were a year above or equal to his son's age in hopes that he would make friends with them and form a bond to help later in life. Yes, I guess that you could say that they were all right, but Endymion wanted to be with his father more. He didn't know why, but he always felt as though he should be close by him as much as possible, sensing that time was closing in on him. But he couldn't figure out the reason why.
As he jogged down the various corridors leading to his parent's bedchamber, (AN: Yes, he's well enough to be near the sultana. The disease, whatever it was, was found to be not contagious.) one single memory persisted in his mind.
It was on the eve of his 9th birthday, and his father was sick in bed again. He was on his bed, crying, not wanting to be alone in the world a second time. Slowly he heard the door creak open and within the paling light of the moon, Marcus closely resembling a ghost as he crept in still in his nightclothes. He had heard his son's muffled sobs, and had come to investigate. Using a cane to steady him, he crept over to his son, a cushioned thump every other step. Endymion had been brought out of his revere by the feeling of his father's hand on his back, slowly rubbing it in attempts to comfort. Through the water in his eyes and the pale light of the moon he mistook his father for already dead, and believed this to be a phantom image of him. He began to bawl once again.
Not knowing the reason as to his son's pain, he knelt down to his son's level and called his name, stroking his hair at the same time. Feeling his hand on his head with his own hand, Endymion picked up his tear streaked face to look at his father, finally realizing he was real.
"What's wrong?" Marcus asked, finally having his son's full attention.
Endymion did what he had never done before in his life as he jumped into his father's arms, nearly knocking the poor man over. Nuzzling his head into his father's shoulder, he just simply said, " I don't want to loose you again..."
The sultan's eyes widened in surprise, "Again? Endymion, you've never lost me. I've always been here...er in spirit."
"I had thought that you had died..."
"Died! Don't worry, it takes more than this weak disease to kill your old man!"
"So, you're not going to die?"
"Not for a long time, not for a long time."
"Promise?"
"Promise."
Endymion thought to himself as he jogged into his father's room. Seeing him in that bed was always disheartening, but he still stepped up to his father's bedside. "You called," he asked, waiting for his father's usual rasp. His voice was always so pleasant when he was well, something that was surely missed when he was sick.
"I was thinking that maybe you, your mother and I would go to an oasis tomorrow. Have some fun. What do you think?"
Did he have to ask?! I think not!
"Of course I would like to go!" Endymion yelled in the pure elation of the thought of going. Oasis were always fun for him, chock full of so many different creatures that didn't live at home, his home.
A glimpse of that memory flashed in his head.
"Are you sure you'll be well enough to go?" Endymion tentatively asked.
"Of course! It'll take a lot more than this to keep your old man down!" Marcus replied to ease his son. "Now you," he said, playfully batting his son's arm. "Go to bed. I want you all rested up before tomorrow. Now shoo."
Sighing, he turned on his foot, throwing a 'fine' as he shuffled out the door.
It was later that night that he'd awaken from his sleep deep in cold sweat. Only once before he had done that before, the night the little girl was drowning.
His heart was racing like never before. He jumped out of the bed, racing out his bed chamber door, not knowing where he was going, just letting his instincts lead the way. The blood was rushing to his head, or rather from it, of which he did not know as he got a dizzying effect as he got closer to his destination. And then he stopped, stopped right in front of his parents' door. He could hear his mother's screams inside, a scream that froze the blood in his veins, accompanied with the hard knocking sound of something beating against the headboard or floor.
Something was very wrong.
Quickly reaching the door, he began to open it, only to be bowled over by his frightened mother, getting sprawled on the floor. But that was not what bothered him, but what was inside. There on the floor beside his parents' bed, lay his father, twitching uncontrollably, his eyes completely out of focus as his head banged relentlessly on the floor. Alexandria got off her son, fleetly scooting to the wall. She just sat there; her knees brought up to her chest, biting her nails as tears poured silently from her eyes. "Marcus...Marcus..." was the only sound that seeped through her lips in the quietest of whispers. Endymion rushed to his father, trying to pin him down so that he wouldn't hurt himself anymore, only to be knocked aside by his father's uncontrollable flailing arms.
"Help! Someone, I need HELP!" Endymion cried, desperate to help his father who's head was now banging so hard that blood leaked from his lips.
Then, just as suddenly as it came it stopped, just completely and utterly stopped. Everything just stopped, everything in Endymion's world just stopped. Silence, so loud and frightening that Endymion thought he would go deaf surrounded him. He held his breath, hoping to hear his father breathe, but there was no sound, not even from his mother. Hands shaking and fear in his eyes Endymion crawled over to his father's side, his hand landing in the pool of blood his father had created. He put his ear up to his father's chest, hoping, praying to hear something, anything.
Silence, it was so loud and stirring, encompassing him. He just knelt there, completely frozen in shock as the physicians pushed him aside. The world began to flow in slow motion as the physicians pronounced him dead. His mother began to shriek, "Marcus! Marcus!" as she ran to him, her face paling as she collapsed on his body, cruel sobs racking her body. But he didn't hear it though. The physicians desperately tried to peal the distraught Sultana from the body as she shrieked louder scratching at them to let her go. But he didn't hear it. That light, that flame that burned so brilliantly in his eyes was snuffed out, just died at that very moment. The second his head hit his father's chest it was all over for him. Numbly he got up, passing the now covered body that used to be his father, stepping past the shrieking form that was his mother, only one goal left in his dead mind.
A darkness, the thing that kept him numb, was whispering in his ear, blocking all thought.
Why go on?...What's there left for you to live for?...
Why not end it all?
was his last thought as he walked straight ahead, nimbly stepping through the billowing curtains, the candle already blown out, stepping up onto the balcony, reaching for the rails...
~*~*~*~*~*~* Author's notes *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
* Runs quickly out of the room, hiding in some concealed spot, waiting for readers to kill her*
Sowie?
Feel free to email me, flame me, or whatever! Just don't send me any viruses!
~Lady Hiko
ladyhiko@yahoo.com
http://www.geocities.com/ladyhiko is under construction.
http://www.geocities.com/sailorpluto23/MoonLightRoses