.:Author's Note:. Wow... man that's depressing. Not a single review for my last chapter. Laaaammmeee guyz~! Well, whatever. Maybe my writing is too cryptic or boring at this point. No worries, shit starts to go down now. Out protagonists start to connect, etc.
Anywho, here's the update. God I'm tired. Sorry it's so short, next chapter should be a bit longer.
Love~!
-DxH
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It's dark.
Of course, I replied. I could feel Marik trembling in my arms.
I'm scared, he whispered.
Of what?
I don't know. Can you help me?
I already have.
Really? He asked dubiously. I pulled the boy closer, sheltering his fragile form, and whispered gently into his ear.
Yes.
Marik moaned and blinked, clearing his blurred vision. His head felt heavy and his body responded with slow, slugged movements that didn't feel quite so familiar. Marik reached a hand to touch his forehead, but winced as he felt his skin connect with a lukewarm, sticky, and damp substance. Marik retracted his hand and looked down. His body flushed and he unconsciously sucked in a sharp breath as he stared back at the bright, crimson liquid splayed on his hand. Marik choked back a scream and fell back, looking up wildly.
His father lay on the ground, his form lifelessly crumpled like a rag doll against a blood-stained wall. No hints of the man's intimidating glare remained in the glazed over eyes which bulged out unnaturally of their sockets and stared emptily at the cringing boy. A pool of sticky red blood clung to the man's tunic and seeped out around him, crawling lethargically at the floor. Marik let out a helpless whimper and managed to raise a hand and slowly reach out to touch the man's still corpse.
A sudden clatter echoed around the room and Marik yelped in surprise. He looked down and realized he'd been holding on to the sacred Sennen Rod. Marik's blood grew cold as he picked up the item with trembling fingers and realized the end of the rod was long and sharp, and dripping with red blood. Marik wanted to scream. He wanted to throw the Rod across the room and cry and shout and turn back time, but he simply turned and vomited on the floor, his body wracked with shock, vile sickness and disgust. Questions, confusion swarmed through his head. He suddenly heard a noise to his left and his head snapped up.
Akefia was sitting on the ground, clutching at his left arm which sported a long, bloody gash across the forearm. He stared warily at Marik, his eyes wide and alert, his body tense with pain and awareness. Marik slowly turned his gaze to the body of his sister, which lay limply against the wall. Marik's eyes widened.
"Ishizu…" he managed to whisper under his breath.
"She's fine," Akefia said calmly and quietly, "just unconscious." Marik felt his body begin to tremble.
"What happened?" He choked out, tears springing to his eyes. "Did… did I do this?"
Marik's gaze returned to Akefia, his expression both imploring and horrified. Akefia met his eyes with relative calm, but said nothing. Marik released a muffled sob and looked back at the corpse of Aknedin.
"Why?" He cried, tears falling freely down his face. Akefia remained silent, letting the boy mourn openly. Suddenly, voices emerged from close by, quick and sharp. Akefia's head sharply swiveled towards the sound, his eyes and ears piqued like a cats. Marik stifled a sob and looked up, suddenly feeling dread course through his body as the seriousness of his predicament jolted him to realization. He looked up in horror at the chamber's open doors, from where the sound of several approaching men could be heard.
Suddenly, before Marik could think, Akefia bolted upright and darted towards Marik. He roughly grabbed Marik by the hair and jerked him alert, causing the boy to emit a squeak of surprise.
"Give me the rod." He hissed, eyes boring into Marik's. Marik stared at him in fear. He suddenly remembered Akefia's original intentions and grit his teeth, clenching the rod harder. Akefia slammed Marik's head against the floor and ripped the rod from his hands as soon as the men came running in. Marik's head swam with pain and everything blurred out of focus for an excruciatingly slow few seconds. He was vaguely aware of Akefia jerking him upright by his hair and suddenly felt a cold, sharp object pressed to his throat. Marik froze immediately and blinked furiously to clear his vision.
A half-dozen Egyptian soldiers armed with brass swords and large shields barked demands at Akefia to release him. Akefia snarled in response, his eyes darting left and right for an exit. The soldiers were slowly advancing on them from either side, causing Akefia to slowly back away, keeping a tight hold on Marik and dragging him along painfully. Akefia noticed a small door to his left and, keeping the point of the rod directed at Marik's throat, kicked it open. As soon as the door's rusty hinges gave way, Akefia grabbed Marik's wrist with his good arm and darted through the doorway, pulling Marik after him.
"Run!" He roared at Marik. Marik ran. He stumbled and ran, forced up by Akefia's propelling momentum. They raced through corridors and chambers that Akefia seemed all too familiar with, the sounds of their footsteps echoing behind them and mingling with the clamor of the guards chasing after them. Akefia suddenly jerked to his right and kicked viciously at a door. It resisted the assault and stood firm until he took the rod, jammed between the wall and the door where the lock would be and pulled it down. A loud snap echoed through the long, torch-lit corridor and the door fell open. Akefia wasted no time and pushed Marik in front of him into a long, spiraling set of stone steps.
"Up, hurry!" He ordered. Marik had no choice but to obey and ran as quickly as he could up the steps, climbing higher and higher than he'd ever climbed. He could hear the voices and clambering footsteps of the soldiers hungering after them from below, spurring him further. As he grew tired, Akefia shoved forward and pulled him along by his wrist. Finally, panting and aching, Marik was slammed to a halt behind Akefia, who quickly but warily opened another wooden door. Marik immediately shut his eyes as a flooding of bright white light flashed against his eyes. He felt himself tugged onward and stepped forward uncertainly, squinting and blinking against the unfamiliar light. As his eyes began to adjust, Marik's breath caught in his throat and his eyes widened to the size of saucers.
Before him lay infinity. Where he looked, there were no walls, no boundaries. Only a wide, uneven horizon which glittered gold against the glare of a bright orange globe. Marik gasped, awestruck by the beauty and limitless gage of his surroundings. He was vaguely aware that they were situated on a mountainous stone ridge, on a narrow ledge that dropped steeply at least 100 meters. He was suddenly jerked to realization as Akefia grabbed his arm and pulled him violently to his right, down a fine path which led down the mountain.
"I blocked off the door but it won't keep them off for long." He said. Akefia thrust the rod into his robe and snapped his gaze at Marik, motioning him to go down first. "If you want to keep your life you'll follow my instructions and keep quiet."
Marik nodded wordlessly and tried to keep his footing as they quickly descended. The relatively unused path wound steeply and narrowly around and down the mountain, overgrown with shoots, weeds, and roots which threatened to trip the unwary traveler. Sometimes, the trail disappeared entirely and Akefia would bark instructions from behind, shoving him in one direction or another. Sharp, jutting rocks tore at Marik's naked feet, but he continued restlessly, a mix of confusion, panic and alarm spurring him on. He felt very conscious of the thief's overbearing presence behind him, and could almost feel his gaze boring into his back. He was afraid, definitely. Questions buzzed through his head like gnats, the most pertinent being "Will he kill me?"
Marik knew the only reason he was likely still alive is that Akefia saw him as a useful hostage and shield. However, once Akefia escaped far enough away, Marik would be nothing but useless baggage. He would either kill him or leave him. Marik shuddered as he worked his way around a jutting boulder and slid down a steep section of the path, using a few protruding roots for support. Suddenly he felt a hand grab his shoulder and violently shove him against the side of the mountain. Akefia stood close behind him, flattered against the wall, his eyes and ears locked on something above and behind them. Marik tried to calm his ragged breaths and hear over his pounding heart. After a few seconds, Marik could make out the sound of several voices, distant and indiscernible but there nonetheless. Akefia pressed him closer to the side of the mountain, and Marik was suddenly aware that the people were high above them and, from their loud footsteps, realized the soldiers were still in pursuit. He tried to quiet his breathing as his heart started up again in panic. He blinked and tried to ignore the salty sweat dripping into his eyes and the burning of the unfamiliar sun across his back. Marik wondered how Akefia, dressed in such a long, heavy robe, could stand the heat.
After the voices faded away, Akefia pushed Marik forward again.
"Quickly." He hissed urgently. With newfound haste, the two descended the rest of the mountain. At the base of the path, they reached a large dirt road that extended in two opposing directions, one of which crossed through a seemingly limited expanse of desert and rock and the other which pointed towards a distant village. Marik looked up at Akefia for further directions. The thief regarded both paths warily, his head raised up high like a predator on alert. Finally, he pushed Marik towards the path heading in the direction of the village, keeping close to the side of the mountain. When no cover was left from there to the village except for a few large boulders scattered here and there, Akefia dragged Marik back against the mountain, pulling him in a crouching position. The thief began taking off his shoes and plopped them in front of Marik, who blinked and looked up questioningly.
"Put those on." Akefia ordered sharply. "The sand is hot and we're going to be moving quickly. I don't need you slowing me down." Marik bobbed his head obediently and slipped the shoes on. Despite being slightly too big, Marik was surprised that the shoes managed to fit him. He realized, for the first time, that Akefia was not a big person. He wasn't short, but not prominently tall either, and sported a relatively small build with long limbs which allowed for a nimble grace and speed to his step that, Marik realized, perfectly befitted him as a thief. With a last look over his shoulder, Akefia shoved Marik forward, and the two began running across the road.
Less than half a minute after taking off, Marik heard heightened voices behind him. He didn't pause to look but knew that they had been spotted. He focused on his breathing and maintaining his speed as he realized he was falling behind Akefia, whose long, sure footed strides caused him to gather distance much more quickly than the stumbling boy behind him.
Suddenly Marik heard something zip past his ear and thud in the dirt in front of him. With a startled yelp, he leapt over a feathered arrow, his heart pounding and his blood flushing cold through his body. Akefia looked back towards him, eyes widening. More arrows began to rain down near them, one missing Akefia's heel by a hair's breadth.
"Behind the rocks ahead!" Akefia yelled over the wind. Marik looked up, noticing a few large boulders bundled in place together offside the road about fifty feet ahead of them. With newfound rigor, Marik sped towards the shelter, his feet pounding against the dust and sand. Another arrow shot by his left, narrowly missing his arm. As he closed in on the rocks, Marik veered off the road, Akefia who had slowly slightly, following suit. Within 10 feet of the boulder, Marik's legs were aching and screaming with the exertion and his breath came out in uneven gasps.
Without warning, Marik heard someone scream "Move" and suddenly felt something slam into his side. He fell, tumbling to the ground with a muffled yelp as the wind was knocked out of his lungs. Marik was vaguely aware of someone cursing as he was suddenly shoved against a warm surface. He gagged and gasped for air as his lungs began to recover from the blow, sucking in deep breaths of oxygen and clutching at his stomach. After having somewhat recovered, Marik blinked warm tears of pain from his eyes and looked around. He was sitting against a large boulder, the sun on his left blocked by a peak on the rock allowing him a spot of shade. He looked around for Akefia and saw the man lying at his right, his back against the rock and his breaths thick and ragged. Marik wondered why Akefia looked so high strung until his eyes fell upon a thick, black feathered arrow protruding from his right side surrounded by a spreading welt of crimson red soaking through the scarlet robe.
Akefia hissed, his teeth clenched tightly and his face contorted in anger and pain. Marik watched with a sense of horror as Akefia looked down and peeled the robe from his wound. The arrowhead was buried deep through his side, likely in between one of his ribs, and bled profusely through his clothes. Marik stared at the wound in horror, nausea storming through his head at the sight of blood. Blood dribbled from the robe and fell to the sand, which hungrily soaked it in, staining the grains crimson. Akefia cursed loudly, examining the wound while gingerly prodding it with a finger. He inhaled sharply as he hit a sensitive nerve. Marik looked away as he felt the contents of his stomach threaten to heave out through his throat. After calming down, Marik looked back at Akefia, who was pressing down on his would with one hand and clutching the arrow with the other. His heart sank and his mouth ran dry.
"You can't pull it out!" He cried frantically. "The arrow's the only thing keeping the blood from running out. If you remove it you'll die and –"
"I'm not an idiot." Akefia snapped sharply, glaring at Marik from the corner of his eyes. Marik closed his mouth and watched him, his stomach twisting into knots as Akefia placed the hand holding his wound over the one holding the arrow so that he was clutching the shaft with both hands. He took a few deep breaths, steadying his pulse, and pulled down with his left hand while his right remained locked in place. A loud snap echoed through Marik's ears. Akefia muffled a scream, biting down on his lip until it began bleeding. He held up the splintered, broken half of the arrow up and limply dropped it beside him, his hands shaking. Akefia then turned towards the Marik and outstretched his hand towards the young Tombkeeper.
"Tear off some of your tunic into bandages instead of looking at me like an idiot. Now." The thief growled, his eyes threatening. Marik paused for a minute, processing his request, then complied and began tearing the bottom of his tunic into long strips. Akefia sat up with a grunt and beckoned Marik forward, who gingerly approaching him and handed him the bandages. The thief snatched the strips and hurriedly wrapped them around his waist, covering the wound as best he could, then snapped his gaze towards the young Egyptian.
"How far away are they?" He asked sharply, his voice tense. Marik jerked out of his reverie and scrambled to his knees. He peered cautiously around the large rock and squinted against the glare of the setting sun reflected on the desert. In the far distance he saw several figures steadily advancing.
"They're about 100 meters away." Marik said, darting back behind the shelter of the rocks. He felt himself trembling as panic gnawed at his stomach. "We can't escape them. They'll cut us down with their arrows."
"No they won't." Akefia responded evenly.
The thief was slowly pushing himself to his feet, grunting in pain. Blood trickled down his leg and forked out on his foot like a snake's tongue.
"Get up." Akefia ordered roughly. Marik, filled with a mix of dread, fear, confusion, pity, and even concern, scrambled to his feet. The thief grabbed him roughly by his collar and pulled him close. Marik gasped as Akefia's face glared at him from mere inches away. His deep blue eyes had turned pale, almost glassy, and the scar across his eye seemed even more defined. Sweat ran down his face in rivulets, and his breath was ragged and uneven. Marik tried to ignore the thick scent of blood emanating from the man.
"Follow close behind me, understand? If you run away, I'll kill you." Marik nodded fearfully. The man's deep, threatening eyes offered no alternative, and he was certain the thief was still capable of murder.
"W–what if they start firing at us?" Marik stuttered meekly. Akefia released Marik and straightened with a groan.
"I doubt it. If they're aiming for me, they won't risk firing in the open with the obstruction of the desert's heat waves. They shot at us before because they were on high ground, where they had a clear shot. If they do start shooting arrows, which I doubt unless you're life is not on their priority list, start running in a zigzag pattern. If you run straight, you're an easier target." Marik nodded again, panic clogging his throat. Akefia turned away wordlessly, and with one last look back, began running from the cover of the rock. Marik took a deep breath and ran after him, spurred by a sense of fear and, rather curiously, freedom.
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