The remaining trek into Greece took next to no time at all. Philo cursed through it all though. Complaining about tardiness seemed to be his grate pleasure in life. Chynddylan wondered if this was a regular occurrence. Philo hissed all the bumpy way until he caught sight of a white stone city. Chynddylan sat speechless before what he thought could not have existed in this world. The tall megestic temples surrounded by white stone huts with roofs that seemed to be made of dragon's scales of earth. Philo was busy explaining it all to him, but Chynddalyn didn't hear a word. To him the water the shot from the ground into buckets was a miracle, the Philo, it was a well, why on earth would the boy have wanted to loose that outlook on life. It didn't take long for the donkey's to halt in front of a shop they seemed to have visited before, for several small children came out to feed and pet them as an older boy removed their equipment. The shop keeper emerged wearing robs the resembled Philo's but his body was well muscled and his clothes better kept. The man wore a cloth over his head and mouth and a fancy chisel in his hand. He greeted Philo as a friend and the two of them exchanged words in Greek. Philo was given money and the man took stalk of the rocks in the cart. Philo smiled at Chynddalyn and gestured for him to come with him down the street.
"That man was my customer, he will keep the cart and animals for the night while we arrange for more work."
"And for me ta meet yer friend?"
"Yes, that's the first thing for us to do. Now listen closely to me child I see your eyes wandering, Athens is a beautiful city and there while be time to examine her, but just not now!" Philo took Chynddalyn by the arm and briskly escorted him to one of the large temples.
To Chynddalyn's disappointment they were not going to the mighty temple her self but to a small group of humble houses to her flank. These two were stone, and an object of fascination for the young boy. Philo stopped at the door of one hut that seemed larger than it's neighbors the door stood nine feet tall while the rest were hardly six.
"Wait here while I make sure we aren't intruding." Philo strained to open the door then squeezed through the opening he'd created. Chynddalyn used this time to marvel at the carvings of demons and gods carved into the door. It was beautiful and intrecet, it was a battle scene and the two monsterous armies were engaged with each other. He staired at the cruel faces of the gods and he seemed to loose himself as everthing but that face left him.
He was so taken he hardly noticed when Philo hit him in the head with the opening door.
"Chynddalyn! Are you all right! What were you doing? Hmmf, funny ways you have? Come in my friend will see you now. Chynddalyn continued to stare at the face until he could no longer see it on the other side of the door. The room was dark before him. No external light entered the one room dwelling, Chyanddlyn rubbed his eyes to udjust to the candle light. Philo left, closing the door behind him.
"Philo!" chynddalyn panic feeling as though he'd been left to lions. He looked forward searching for the rooms occupant. There was nothing but the burning candle and it's flicker as the wick disintegrated into wax. It would go out soon. He wondered if he would have to be in this dark room when it happened. Abruptly Chynddalyn heard the sound of sliding and heavy feet planting themselves into mud. His senses detected no danger but the hair still stood up on his forearms. Who ever was in this room was not human. The blackness of the room concealed the details of the creature as it rose from the ground it pushed its self up with it's back to the wall. The thing had no definably human traits as it sat up but slowly it seemed to straiten out until Chynddalyn could recognize a head and shoulders. The black mass stood before him almost eight feet tall, still ambiguously formed in the candle light. After finding form, the creature pause for a moment as if to stretch and breathe for the first time in a long time. When he spoke his voice was deep and clear, he had no accent and a slight growl to the ends of his d's.
" I understand you posses some gifts that are not within human limits?" Chynddalyn remained silent. " Ah, you are frightened don't be, I am no danger to you. Demon." Chynddalyn suddenly grew angry and snarled.
"I'm no demon! You forget me too soon!" The figure grinned.
"Ah, so you do recognize me? Curious, I thought maybe you had forgotten or dismissed it as a dream, but now I see you've chosen to deny our last conversation ever happened." Chynddalyn took a step toward his host.
" I remember every word you said to me. I just couldn't convince myself such cruelty was possible." The man in the shadows laughed, his deep tones boomed off the walls around them.
"Cruel is a matter of prospective…" he lowered his head, the boy looked into mat black eyes that carried no life. " you're still too young to have any of that yet. This is not our final meeting." The boy continued to watch him resolutely. "Philo will take you to apprentice under the town undertaker, there you will learn your trade, learning death in life will better prepare you to judge life in death." Chynddalyn looked at him questioningly trying to find his meaning. "You've already made your choice, you can't turn back now."
"I know. When will we see each other next?"
"I imagine, on the day you die." Chynddalyn looked down, fear and dread now flushing through him as the consequences of his choices became a reality. The man in the shadow set a huge gloved hand on top of his head. The boy slouched a bit with the weight." Don't be afraid, for you, death is but a doorway you'll walk through on the endless road of your existence."
"Will there be pain." The hand fell from his head as he looked up at him once more. The older man smiled as if he'd heard this question too many times to be delicate anymore.
"Oh yes, more than you can fathom. But let's not get ahead of ourselves, you're still more than a decade off of that." The heavy door opened behind Chynddalyn, light poured into the room and as the darkness left so did the man in the darkness. The boy stood there thinking for a moment. He then resolved something within himself and turned to find Philo. Once he emerged, the world seemed so much more temporary, like it had been magically transformed since he left it ten minutes earlier. Philo got up from a rock wall he'd used as a seat. He quickly hustled over to the boy. The young man seemed paler and older.
"Well what did he say to you, anything helpful?" Chynddalyn shook his head and walked past him.
"No, just some things I already knew. Do you know an undertaker?" he followed him with his eyes quizzically.
"Yes, as a matter of fact I do?" Philo ran to catch up with him. "Why do you plan on needing a coffin soon?" Chynddalyn turned smiling as wide as he could, tears ran down his dirty face leaving lines on his dusty cheeks. He shuttered as he sobbed.
"No … but I should like to learn to make them." Philo looked at him amazed in the change that had come over him. The boy suddenly spoke perfectly and his demeanor, he suddenly seemed like a man who'd lived twice as long as Philo had. He reminded him of an old man looking back on younger years and knowing he'd never see them again.
Esmeralda had been waiting for the king of Egypt for almost an hour when Phyie finally entered his own sleeping chambers. The king was expecting her. He'd been told she was a gift from his brother, another woman for his harem. He had not been expecting what he found. The King was awkward with women and un aggressive unlike his brother, the tiger that now stat before him was terrifying. She smiled at his obvious discomfort. She'd been told by Shabaka that his brother liked slave girls who didn't speak, not out spoken proud women like her. The King tried to say something he gestured to the door then paced a few steps he fidgeted. Esmeralda couldn't help but roll her eyes. She stood and untied her sash. The King looked away and tried to say something is Eygptian, apparently he only spoke Nubian. Esmeralda approached him slowly like an animal closing in on wounded prey. The king grimaced then stiffly walked to the balcony hoping to escape her. Esmeralda did not increase her gate. The king stood gasping for air, had he lived in modern times he would have been called an asthmatic.
He tried to ignore her by talking about his beautiful city, Nampata had a dark blue tone this time of night, the sun had been gone for an hour but light still filtered from distant hills. He explained this in Nubian hoping to engross his vixen into conversation. Unfortunately Nubian was a language Esmeralda did not speak, unfortunate for him that is, had he spoken better Egyptian, or she better Nubian, the poor bastard might have had more warning.
"My king, it is my pleasure to join you this evening I hope you find me to your liking." She fought hard to suppress laughter. She stopped before his personal supply of opium from china. She drew up the pipe in her mouth and savored the good flavor. "Expensive stuff, I'll have to add this to my tab." She smiled as the poor fool continued to blabber on about architecture. " You know…" she took a drag of the pipe, "a stronger man might have just told me to leave, yet you seam to neither want me to stay or go, is it possible I intimidate you that badly?" He was gesturing to a temple now. " More than a possibility I'd say actually. Tisk tisk, I think I'll be doing a public service by getting rid of you."
With that she lunged on him holding him far too intimately for his comfort, he squirmed and protested in Nubian. She blew smoke in his face and wrapped his sash around his mouth. She held him there for two minutes before she was certain she'd caused him to pass out. She laid his body onto the balcony ledge and unceremoniously pushed him over it to fall to his death. She looked over it in time to watch his body burst and break. Blood all over the lime stone. Pitty, she thought. From her clothes she extracted a suicide note Shabaka had written for the occasion. She set it down next to the opium and left.
When the scene was latter examined, the only strange thing found about the room was that the king's opium pipe was missing.
Esmeralda strolled back to her home confidently, Shabaka would deliver her pay the following morning and she and her daughters would leave the next day. As she turned the corner of the cobblestone street she stopped in horror, in front of where her home had been a bonfire smoldered with the remains of a young girl tied to a stake set in it's center.