The boy watched Bakuto as he led him away from the cell. After his week in the cell, everything was so colourful, so vibrant. He felt the dull ache of the nothingness that jabbed at his skull and behind his eyes, recede. They ascended a flight of stairs and eventually arrived in a room with a sleek conference table at its centre. Sunlight poured in from floor to ceiling windows casting the room in a soft yellow hue. Bakuto sat and the boy sank down in the chair next to him.
A bowl of broth sat on the table mocking him, he had not eaten in a week but did not dare take the bowl of food, Alexandra had given him food earlier, he wasn't sure if he needed permission and he didn't have the words to ask.
Bakuto turned to him, his body language relaxed and his expression amiable "what do you know of the hand?"
The boy hesitated, it was hard to concentrate as he was starving, tired and overstimulated. The result being that he was dizzy, his thoughts were foggy, and he felt completely disorientated. Too much had happened these last few days, he just let himself parrot things he had heard from Alexandra "h- help people. We are… H-hand?"
"Yes, the hand helps people, and we are part of the hand, we're a family, you're a part of that now. The hand strives to bring light where there is dark and bring life where there is death. Can you repeat that for me?"
The boy faltered "bri-bring light wh-where there is d-ark, li-life wh-where th-there is death"
Bakuto looked pleased and handed the broth to the boy, "good, your speech is improving. Do try to remember that sentence, it is important."
The boy started to wolf down the broth, "thank y-you"
Bakuto laughed "hungry?"
The boy nodded mumbling something unintelligible through a mouth full of food.
The boy put down the bowl feeling much better but unsatisfied, the only food he had eaten since he woke up was insubstantial broth that left him feeling dizzy, distracted and more than a little dazed.
Bakuto led him into a training room and said, "I thought we could train today, I'm going to teach you how to throw a proper punch, it that okay?"
The boy nodded "yeah okay." Not feeling like it was something he could really refuse.
Seven hours later the boy was dripping with sweat and his breathing was laboured while Bakuto had yet to even appear slightly out of breath.
"it's probably time for you to have a shower" Bakuto said wrinkling his nose and chuckling.
The boy's shoulders slumped in relief at the excuse to rest.
Bakuto clapped him on the back "good work, you have impressed me"
An hour later the boy was showered and had donned a fresh set of clothes. the room he was left in a much larger room with a twin bed, a wardrobe, floor to ceiling windows and an ensuite bathroom.
Exhausted he slumped onto the bed and passed out.
the heat was unbearable, and his lungs laboured to take in fumes of sulphur which only made his chest burn. It was dark. It was always dark. The floor was glowing and felt like hot coals, he screamed as he felt his skin burn.
He woke to the dark and panic engulphed him. He was back, he was back in the dark… he stumbled to his feet and felt… no pain. He stopped. It was quiet, the air didn't carry the stench of sulphur he had become so accustomed to. He was with the hand. He was with the hand, and he was safe. He staggered to the wall and fumbled blindly for the light switch. The room lit up and his panic receded. Lay back on the bed and stared at the ceiling until he fell asleep. He was safe.
He stirred when the sun began peaked through the curtains and after ten minutes the glare was so bright it was impossible to sleep. After changing he emerged from his room groggily.
Bakuto, Madam Gao and Alexandra had gathered and appeared to be waiting for him.
Alexandra spoke first "ah, you're up; we were just about to wake you. Now we have told you some of what the hand stands for but now it is time for you to learn of our core purpose. Around four billion years ago beings known as the sickly ones began to worship Yaratık."
Gao told him "The hand serves Yaratık, you serve Yaratık." "Go on, say it." She urged him
The boy shifted, uncertain, "the hand serves… Y-Yaratık, I serve Yaratık." The boy paused "who is Yaratık?"
Gao considered this, "Yaratık is one of the ancient ones. Yaratık is good, it was they who granted us the power of resurection. They were worshipped as a god long ago. They lend us speed, strength and wisdom. To initiate senior members they must first see Yaratık to begin training. We have organised an audience with them today, in truth this was why it took so long for us to resurect you. Yaratık has many important things to do." Gao and the others set off at a swift pace "come."
The boy trailed along behind and eventually arrived at a set of double doors which were so out of place he did a double take.
In constrast to the cinical grey and white of the rest of the facility, the doors were a deep mahogany, and delicate patterns sculpted from silver and gold were imbedded in the door. The handels were old and beautiful and not very functional to be honest. The door was opened and the boy was pushed into the beutifully ornate room, he looked behind him 'good luck' Bakuto mouthed giving him a thumbs up. The doors snapped shut.
On the other side of the door Bakuto asked "are you sure he won't lose his mind? Even a glimpse could send anyone mad, shouldn't we give him a blindfold at least?"
The others rolled their eyes at him then gao spoke "if he loses his mind then he wasn't worth the effort anyway"
Bakuto sighed "I know but, I just feel kind of bad"
Gao sniffed " I swear to the fates, if you mention your feelings one more time I will kill you"
Bakuto snorted, "you just try old woman"
Alexandra coughed "children please."
The room was grand and elaborate and empty. What did a god even look like? A throne sat on a podium, with rubys, amthyst and saphire entrenched in its arms. A golden clockwork clock made a tick tick tick. tick tick Sound.
Suddenly wisps of shadows drifted from the corners and amassed above the throne and the shadows became to take shape and the boy stared in awe and his mind snapped.
The form changed and it was folding into itself and over itself as it moved and it had no mass and it made no sense because it had no mass and it was impossible. The boy felt his sense of reality break and mend over and over again, everything was melting and nothing was real and this cluster of shadow was the only thing that mattered. It was all too much and it didn't make sense so he stopped trying to make sense of anything. His mind went blank.
The swarm of shadows settled on a vaguely human form that and alternated between male and female by colapsing on itself and reforming evey few moments. spoke in a hundred thousand whispers and in a hundred thousand voices "greetings Petros"
The boy's voice stuck in his throat, was he Petros?
The shadows laughed, its many voices creating a cacophany of rumbles and nasal cackles "I am Yaratık, and you are the black sky" it was not a question "you serve the hand, the hand serves me." He heard it and knew it to be true, it was the only truth. "Kneel." The boy sank to his knees letting the voices wash over him.
The voices continued "I name you Petros." It chuckled, like it was enjoying its own private joke. "You will have to do what is necessary for the hand, you realise. You will have to kill." The boy jolted out of his reverie.
That couldn't be right. It was never right to Kill.
Yaratık sensed resistance "those of us in the hand are worth more than those outside, we have knowledge they do not, they are ignorant sinners. Those outside the hand would seek to harm you, they are not people, not really. Our goal is not to hurt people; it is to save them but they do not want to be saved, they will resist killing is inevitable."
The boy; Petros seemed to accept this more easily. the mass of shadows stepped down from the throne its limbs folding and morphing; it approached him and laid an impossible hand of shifting darkness on his shoulder the moment the hand made contact with his shoulder and what he felt was more indescribable, more inexplicable than what he had seen.
Yaratık continued towards the door and began to dissipate into wisps of shadows "goodbye Petros" said a disembodied voice "only the fates know when we will next meet"
Petros stared ahead, still kneeling there, eyes blank and face slack.
He did not know how much time had passed by the time Bakuto had sidled into the room. Bakuto knelt by him and looked at him a silent question on his lips. He stayed there for a moment just lending a grounding presence.
To Petros everything was different; the world was lighter, but somehow less colourful, everything coloured in a pale white light. He could see now; he could understand why Yaratık was hailed as a god.
Petros hesitated "It called me Petros" he confessed in a hushed voice as if it were something deeply personal.
Bakuto supressed a chortle and thought 'that's a bit on the nose'. "What else did it say?" He queried
Petros sounded far away, "I serve the hand, the hand serves Yaratık. I must do whatever it takes to serve the hand."
'this is good' Bakuto thought 'he still seems to be in a hypnotic state, he will accept anything I say in the next few minutes'. Bakuto spoke and carefully worded his question "you can trust me, tell me what was it like, seeing Yaratık?"
Petros repeated sounding lost "I can trust you." It took him a moment to process Bakuto's question "there was… it was shadows, it was made of shadows, but it was solid and…" he seemed lost for words "it was impossible… it made no sense" he slumped into Bakuto shaking his head and began to shake.
Bakuto cursed, he needed to give Petros orders, in his current state he would be helpless but to follow them. "Calm. it's okay.".
Petros instantly relaxed parroting to himself "it's okay".
Bakuto continued "you trust me, you are loyal to me- us."
The boy nodded looking dazed.
Bakuto resumed "The world outside the hand is harsh, people outside want to hurt you, anything they tell you is a lie. The hand is the only thing that matters, we are your family, without us you are nothing. Outsiders' lives don't matter, not in the way our lives do. We will protect you as well as we can, but you need to be wary of the outside world. Do you understand"
Petros nodded again.
Bakuto helped him up, "okay, come on." They walked out to the hallway to where Alexandra and Gao waited. Bakuto smiled in satisfaction 'it had worked' he thought.