Hey all! So this story is flowing fast! Whoot!
HerTenderTouch: Of course Afika is really creepy! XD That's why I lurv him!...plus he's hot. (Malik: Always a good quality) lol Ryou has decided to take your advice about shutting his yapper. ;) Oh Minkah's mom...we're finally getting answers about here this chappie...from Dimah herself. 8D
DMagic: "is wat afika saying trueeeee" Maybeeeee and maybeee not! No, Kek was not killed by Afika. He's alive and kicking. (Kek: -kicks Malik-) (Malik: Fucking hell!) o.o
dragonlady222: Yes Afika is brainwashed. And you're one of the few people who feel bad for him. Minkah did have his mummy. What did Afika have? Let's find out a bit, shall we? xD
XxYourXxDisasterXx: "Afika deserves a long, drawn out, painful death followed by eternity in a hole!" LOL I can't decide whether you'll like this chapter or not. I'm pretty sure you'll like the ones to follow -wink- but not sure about this one. I'm hopeful. Oh, and no worries, as I stated in the first half of this story: MALIK WILL LIVE. (Minkah:...in misery. -grins-) (Malik: Jerk!) lol
RyouLoverForever: Short Afika and Ryou scenes. Nothing much. Ryou has decided talking is a bad idea. :P "You're driving us nuts!" Mwhahahahhaahahahaa! Stop encouraging me! XD (malik: -sigh-)
Memnoch's Heart: Ah, i forgot about the whole got/stealing Minkah's name. Thanks for reminding me. -smirk- "*shakes Ryou* You. Don't. Make. Psychos. Angry. They will end you, man. Pretend to sleep you dolt." Finally he's beginning to follow the reviewers' advice. Oh if only he had a spork. (Afika: O.o)
Peepz: So did Kana sit on you? I hear you caused her some heart attack confusion when it comes to BTBT and this story. :P "I hope Kek died to exposure of the elements. That'd be funny." Wouldn't that be HILARIOUS? Here we're leading up to his ultimate plan and he drops dead from frostbite! XD (Kek: I fail to find what's so funny) (Kasiya: I had plans too, you know!...before you blew my fucking face off!) Lol I forgot about you! (Kasiya: Argh!) Think Afika is beyond redemption? Let us see! 8D
Sagira98: Yes, Afika is insane. I'm hoping you didn't just realize this. I thought maybe it was tipped off in the first half when he was carrying Kaiba's head around in a shopping bag. :P Maybe that's just weird where I'm from. lol You may or may not feel sympathy for Afika. He and Minkah (and now Niu as well) are actually the major focus when it comes to who's "right" and who's "wrong". As a warning, you may feel sympathy or something for him this chapter. Read the end notes for reassurance! Note: They're fighting the army 'cause the army wants to kill them. The majority of the army was killed off at their base. The army knew Niu and Minkah were part of Apophis but had them under house arrest. With their dudes dead, they're after blood. (Minkah: Joy)
Duckweed: -smirk- Why thank you, sweetie!
Flacks: You are confused. But it's a good confused because it's about Dimah (minkah's mom). Fear not! We're getting answers about her starting NOW! Ah, another person who has deemed Afika beyond redemption. (Afika: -huffs- They're just jealous) Uh...right.
Fallin-Alone-Scared-Lost: -grabs bowl of orange tic tacs- Yummers! XD Yes, Kek is still hanging around. :P And Afika too. The little buggers just won't die. (Kek: "buggers"?) (Malik: -mutters- More like "boogers") lol (Afika: WHAT?) XD
This chapter shall be dedicated to DMagic, Flacks, and Duckweed.
SPECIAL NOTE: I know I promised gore and the lot in this chapter, but some new developments came up and I mixed things up a bit. There is still a tiny bit of gore but nothing major. Sad! (lol) In this chapter we are FINALLY getting answers to the truth about Minkah and Afika's childhood. Flashback time! And this time it is a credible source. ;) I would like to say right now that Dimah Rabiya (minkah's mom) is dead, all right? Okay. The song is by Luca Turilli.
Too Late
Too late
Now is too late
For a love never remembered
To a mother dead a stranger
For a victim of your shadow
Pay your shame now
Cry only for yourself 'cause
She does not deserve your tears
Too late
Chapter 22: Bronze
(Kek's POV)
Perception.
The results of watching something or someone closely. Perception and intricately placed lies are what created the ingenious plot which we have fallen into now. It was Nimr's well laid-out plans for Dimah Rabiya and Afika. It was Afika's desire to follow what he believed to be his purpose that drives him on this maddening race for his own liberation. It was Dimah Rabiya's decision to protect the child she had conceived out of wedlock with a man virtually a stranger. It was Minkah's warped memories of his mother and what she stood for that pushed him to become an assassin. They slowly wrapped these webs around one another, unaware of the others' actions.
Fools — the lot of them.
For all of their efforts and time, the pillars holding up their reality are far too fragile. They're quaking under the overwhelming pressure, the foundation below them breaking apart. It's something I've relished in watching as their lives slowly unraveled. Nimr and Dimah have already fallen into the ashes of this hapless charade. It was doomed to failure. That leaves two.
Minkah will come. There is no question in my mind about that. Judging by the short talk I had with him and his new companions, he's figured out quite a bit of it on his own. Maybe Niu helped out a bit. Now they will look up her name with the information I provided and more of the truth will seep into that clouded brain of his.
Afika believes he can make the truth whatever he wants it to be. What my rival fails to see is that the only person he's fooling now is himself. He will fall by my hand. That is a given. But long before that he will break. I might ease him along, but Minkah will probably be the one to accomplish that. It's the one thing I envy the bastard for.
I sit back on my snowmobile and wait out of sight from the house where Afika and that Bakura brat are hiding out. There's no need to hurry. The only issue is the cold, but I can withstand it for a long amount of time. I've planned this out carefully and must let all the cards fall into place before I make my move.
It appears my concerns have been minimalized by the disappearance of Kasiya and Severa. Whatever the reason, they have made themselves scarce. Perhaps they decided to make a break for it, not wanting to be involved. Or maybe Afika deemed them nuisances. They would have gotten in the way. And at least one of Minkah's friends is badly injured while others are too cowardly and weak. They'll flee as opposed to try and join us. That makes things all the easier for me. I can always hunt them down later for sport.
"This has been a long time in the making," I mumble almost able to stare through the walls where my adversary is waiting in the dark and cold. "How fitting it is. Before the sun rises you will crumble." …because I'm the only one still alive that knows.
(Dimah Rabiya's POV)
Shouts of anger echo down the dirt streets. I adjust my plain dark blue scarf to hide my face. Wearing it to blend in with the traditional hijab, I listen intently while nearby people hurry into their homes and lock the doors. No one wants to get involved. I cannot blame them. These times, this place—they breed fear.
Hooking my basket of new thread to be made into scarves, I stride in the opposite direction of the racket. I must avoid confrontations and drawing attention to myself. If I get involved we'll have to move again. In the past few years we've been fleeing from cities to remote impoverished villages such as this one. The past isn't something that lets go. Neither are they.
My best intentions are all in vain when I turn the corner to find the crowd cut through the side streets. They are circling around a young thing bleeding on the ground. He couldn't even be ten years of age. My blood boils at the way they scream at the silent child as he curls into a ball to shield himself from the pelting stones.
"Stop it! Back off!" I shout at them rushing forward. "Leave him alone!"
Drawing the hidden firearm I keep on my person at all times, I point it into the air and release several shots. Everyone goes eerily quiet, cynical hate-filled eyes now upon me rather than the frighten child bleeding on the ground.
"No one touch him!" I hiss between clenched teeth, realizing my error but too angry to care. Once again I've drawn more than too much attention.
"This doesn't involve you, slut!" a man bellows, the crowd rumbling in agreement.
I fire another shot to let them know I am dead serious. "You all will leave now. This boy is no longer of your concern."
A young man in his early teen steps forward. "Hell, you know he is!"
The only thing that stops him from attacking me is the gun aimed at his face. Everyone tenses again, unsure of whether to call my bluff. I do as I was taught, never showing fear. Never showing anything that you don't wish them to see. Only your confidence. Only your hate.
"Not one more step!" I warn him, feeding their fears with a lie they will not ignore. "My father taught me in the use of firearms and self defense. Do not think a moment I will waste all the knowledge and skill he gave to me. Now scatter!"
They do as I say without trouble. I ignore the mutterings and curses that spew from their mouths, carefully approaching the child while slowly putting the gun away. It's close, pressed against my ribs, ready should I need it. He hasn't moved and for a moment I fear the worst before realizing he's purely afraid.
"You're safe now, malak. They've all gone," I assure him with a quick glance around the empty streets. "Look."
I move to touch his shoulder but he recoils as if burned. Pity floods through me. He reminds me of them…so many of them. All of them young and full of life. All of them now dead. Children that deserved better. If I can give it to even one child from the streets and spare him from a lifetime of suffering perhaps then that weight will lift if only a little. I know the orphans out on their own trust no one. I know how to speak to them.
"You're hurt," I state the obvious, watching the blood glide through the messy black locks. "Come and I'll get those wounds treated," I continue in the motherly voice I reserve for my own child. All he does it shake. "You look tired and hungry. Let's make a deal." Brown eyes rise, hidden partially by tussled bangs in need of a good trimming.
My heart stops when those eyes meet mine. It is because I recognize them. It's what happened to all of those children that didn't crumble. The life departs from them leaving that hollow stare. He's not a child of the streets. They have a wild look in their eyes like an animal afraid of being cornered. There is no fear in these eyes.
… never showing anything that you don't wish them to see.
He's too far gone. They already have too much control over him. I should have left him to the crowds. What can I do with him now? If he returns to them then I'll be found. My fingers twitch, aching for a weapon. It would be more merciful for him than to linger on as one of Apophis' tools. I swallow as I stare into those empty eyes. He's so young. Is it really too late for him?
"You let me clean those injuries and I'll cook you a nice big meal," I propose with a gentle smile.
Before I make such a decision, I will at least try. I will try to save him.
(Minkah's POV)
"Damn it!" I scream slamming my hand into garage wall.
The place is ransacked. There's nothing here! No cars, army vehicles, or even a snowmobile. Kek probably did it to ensure Ryou would not escape. Now they're gone. Afika has my brother and Kek is on their tail. I'm stuck here helpless because of the damn snow!
"Keep looking," Malik encourages me in a hoarse voice. "There has to be something here we can use."
"Well there isn't!"
I bite into the thick fabric of my glove and squeeze my eyes shut tight. How could this have happened? How did it all come down to this? There is still much I don't know about Um; things that should not have been forgotten. What would she do now? Afika turned her in. Surely she would see justice in what I am about to do. It's justified in so many ways. The lifetime of lies that tarnished everything and everyone he came into contact with cannot be redone. He has to die.
Tears of anger and hatred, tears of hurt and anguish threaten to spill from my eyes as I breathe heavily the frosty mountain air. "Why?" I whisper bitterly. "Why did you do this? After Ryou, what then? What else do you plan to take away from me?" The warmth of salty tears on my cheeks contrasts to the cold. "Damn you!"
"Minkah, come here!"
Hastily brushing my sleeve across my face I hurry in the direction Malik's voice called. Rounding a corner I'm outside. He's standing near what appears to be a shed of some kind. The snow crunching under my boots, I approach with caution, breath catching when I recognize the knife tied to the handle. Gingerly undoing the knot, I stare at the knife I've used preferably whenever possible. Afik gave it to me a long time ago. He didn't leave this here for me though.
"Kek," I mutter the foul assassin's name.
The army had confiscated this weapon. We were sure they would use it against me by comparing the blade to the markings on the victims of Apophis crimes. It would have been a match too. One would think it would please Kek to have me being found out and hunted down. Apparently this 'meeting' between he, Afika, Ryou, and me is more important to him. So he retrieved it when he wiped out the army.
"What should we do now?" Malik asks me edgily. "I don't like the fact that we seem to be the least informed about what's going on…especially since they're including us."
I examine the snowmobile. It hasn't been fixed with any traps nor has it been damaged. Kek isn't that careless. He left it here for me. That's why there's only one. It's an invitation. And it's not one I'll turn down. I must accept.
"You don't have to come with me," I tell him bluntly, not wanting to have anyone else get caught in the middle of this.
He grabs my arm roughly, a fierceness in his grasp. "I told you I won't let you do this alone!"
I swallow the lump in my throat at how protective he is. Ever since we met, before he knew who or what I was, he went so far as to stalk me knowing I was suffering. Malik isn't exactly the helpless type, but I fear for his safety with Afika and Kek; not to mention Kasiya and Severa who have been hiding in the shadows. Their fate and loyalties are unknown. It's best to assume they are alive and standing beside no one. Always keep the worst option as the greatest possibility but never lose sight of the rest. Malik has done so much for me at his own expense. I've never had anyone care for me the way he has. Before I would have said Afik, but now it's Malik and Malik alone. If he's taught me anything it's to shield who you care about no matter what the cost.
"Minkah!" Malik shakes me roughly when I don't reply.
Lavender eyes gape and his breath intakes in a gasp as I promptly knock him unconscious. For an instant those wide eyes stray to me in disbelief before he slumps forward into my waiting arms. I pick him up and trudge unsteadily through the snow with him. Entering the abandoned house, I find a room with a couch and fireplace. Gently lowering him onto the piece of furniture, I take off my coat and cover him with it for extra warmth. The fireplace could draw unwanted attention. Niu's radar will pick up on him here. By that time it should all be over.
"This is how it must be," I apologize gingerly drawing the back of my hand across his cheek. "Please understand, Malik."
After double-checking his safety and comfort, I return to the shed behind the place where the snowmobile is waiting for me; an ominous gesture of admittance.
(Dimah's POV)
I keep casting nervous glances at the door to the bedroom where I've put Minkah and Afika down for the night. I'm afraid to leave them alone together. It is clear Afika has been with Apophis for some time judging by the way he acts and speaks. That means he's capable of a great deal. There is also no question as to why he is here. He was sent. What I am yet to discover as to whether or not he is here for us or for new recruits. The chance we would stumble upon one another is almost too much to deny. It cannot be a coincidence.
"What do I do, father?" I murmur as I staring at the blocked window that I dared not leave open after today's events. "What would you want me to do? What would make you proud? I'm blind and lost." Fingers curling, I fight not to weep. "I don't want to do this anymore! I would make a stand if not for Minkah. All of you understand that."
"Who are you talking to?"
I snap around, hand on the gun at my side. Afika is standing in the doorway watching me with sharp inquisitiveness. The boy doesn't react to my reaction, as though he's used to it. That he expected it from me. Relaxing my muscles, I smile lightly.
"My father."
The raven-haired boy eyes me skeptically. "Your ab is dead."
He wouldn't know that if he were a random child on a mission to collect new recruits. It's settled then. Apophis sent him to find me. But why a child?
'Because anyone else they sent would be dead already,' I conclude dryly at my own weakness. 'They knew I wouldn't kill him.'
"That is true," I answer quietly. "I believe he can still hear me." I have to be careful and tactful when getting him to talk. One wrong move and he'll close up. "What about your baba, malak?"
Afika's face remains as blank as an untouched piece of marble. My inquiry gauges no response from him. Not even a reply. I skim over 'mother' and any other family members.
"I know why you are here, malak," I tell him while keeping alert for any signal of distress.
My announcement doesn't faze him. Even so, it doesn't prompt him to speak. What on earth is going through his head? What did they do to this boy?
"Why do you call me that?" he asks instead. "I am not an angel."
To this I can only smile weakly. "Angels come in many forms."
"Angels aren't real," he insists, annoyed at my supposed lack of understanding.
"And how do you know that?" I press while walking to the sink.
"I know."
"But how?" I prompt.
He squares his shoulders. "I was taught…"
"You believe everything you are told?" I interrupt but keep my voice gentle. "What you see or cannot see? What you do or do not hear? If something cannot be touched does it mean it does not exist?"
There it is: A slight crease of doubt on his brow. A sliver of faltering in those usually steely eyes. I repeat the most important question of all.
"Do you believe everything you are told?"
Unable to decide whether this is a trap, Afika's gaze wavers. His stare moves to the gun at my side. This puts me on edge. He didn't have any weapons on him when I brought him here. That's unlike Apophis. Perhaps they didn't want to take a chance he'd lash out at me or my son?
"You know how to use this?"
He nods in affirmation. It's not proud or sad. It's a simple fact to him. The child has already been trained to kill.
"I like knives better." There's a gleam of satisfaction in his eyes as he says this. It's talking about something he enjoys…or believes he should enjoy. "I'm the best with them."
Even as my heart falters, I keep my voice steady. "Is that right? Knives can be very tricky to work with compared to guns." …in the practice of assassinations. "My father had a sword collection, you know," I say, not sure if he did know or not. "Most of them were…taken when he died."
That horrible morning when Apophis attacked our home, they assassins had not expected the fight my family gave them. In our large house with so many relatives, we were spread out through the place. Being of the most prestigious of archeologists and Egyptologists, my father had our house adorned with ancient artifacts. When he saw there was no escaping that attack, he ordered my sisters and I to destroy as we attempted to get away. Even though I was the youngest, I was the fastest runner. For that, I curse myself.
The shards of light in those brown eyes brighten ever so slightly. "Do you have any of them?"
A hope is in his features and he doesn't try to conceal it. It's so innocent, yet the nature of his anticipation is dreadful. He could be playing up the innocent child act as a trick to getting his hands on special weapons. The Apophis leaders would praise him for it. And yet…That look. This isn't about pleasing anyone else. The child is genuinely excited. I may have just found a way to win him over.
"I have two khepesh," I tell him to which those orbs widen. "Would you like to see them?"
Afika nods quickly, struggling to keep a hold of his trained composure. With a slight smile I walk to the cupboards. Opening the top one, I balance carefully on my toes in order to reach the top shelf. There, wrapped in old brown fabric to not draw attention, are the two swords of ancient Egypt.
"They stopped using these after the…"
"19th dynasty," Afika finishes my sentence.
"You've done your homework," I commend while gently placing the bundles on the ground and untying the thin rope around them. "My father discovered them during a dig." I hold one up and it glints in the dim light. Afika is utterly transfixed upon it. After a moment of hesitation, I hold it out to him. "Careful."
He takes it with an expert grip, eyes roving across the detail of the short ivory handle and along the small curved blade that was used for slashing as opposed to stabbing. This weapon has seen its fair share of war and reaped a good amount of blood. The blade is worn down not only from time but usage. Afika is frowning as he allows a finger to skim across the blade.
"Bronze is not as effective as steel."
"It was the metal of the time. When weapons began to be made out of steel they no longer used the khepesh," I remind him as he continues to inspect the sword as if dubious of its potential.
"But you could replace it now."
"I don't use it for its former purpose."
The disdainful look I receive is like nothing I've seen on a child's face before. "What's the point of keeping something if you don't use it?"
There is no use in speaking of sentimental value. Someone brought up as he was would fail to understand. I cannot fault him for that but it does complicate things. For my son's sake, for my sake, and for this boy, I must make this work. Everything depends on it. I don't want his blood on my hands. It would be a permanent stain I would see long after scrubbing until my skin was raw.
"Why doesn't your ibn have one?" he inquires about Minkah when I don't answer. "Does he know how to use a gun or knife?"
"No," I reply tightly. "He does not."
"Why?"
'Because I don't want him to be like you,' I think sadly as he goes back to gazing at the knife as if it were the most beautiful thing he's ever seen.
(Mr. Mutou's POV)
"What if they can't find anything?" Yugi is rambling nervously as he circles the large sofa. "They won't be able to find Ryou! And Yami will…!"
"That's enough of that kind of talk," I cut him off even though I share those same fears with him.
I don't know which I dread more: The boys finding snow vehicles and going after Kek and the other assassins or having them left stranded in the freezing temperatures, no aid for Yami and no saving Ryou. Even if they do manage to catch up with the assassins I fear for those boys. None of them are in a condition to be fighting. None of them should be fighting.
The flames in the fireplace are dancing at the latest batch of wood thrown in as an offering. There's no need to put it out. They know we're here. There's no point in freezing ourselves needlessly. The atmosphere must be as comfortable as possible for Yami.
My grandson's skin is flushed with fever from the infection festering his hand. We've ran out of bandages a long while ago. Now we're using clean dish towels wrapped tight around the wound. With the army and their medics dead we're on our own. There is a small town we stopped in for groceries and gasoline. If we could even get there…
"He's wheezing more," Marik states from beside Yami who we've situated on the sofa.
The fact that Yami isn't waking up is the most frightening of all. Even with a wound like that, he should still be somewhat aware. Instead the only sounds he makes are moans of pain and the raspy passing of air through his lungs. He's fading fast.
"I'll get more blankets from…!" Yugi makes for the stairs.
"No!" I bark. "No one is leaving this room. We stay together."
Ryou was snatched from under our noses. We were all in the house and no one sensed the intruder. Minkah and Niu informed us that Kek is not even the most 'talented' when it comes to sneaking about undetected. With our best line of defense out looking for help, we cannot make another mistake.
"Just add a few more logs to the fire," Marik suggests while pressing a damp cloth to Yami's forehead.
"We're running low," Yugi informs us but complies. Red embers jump like tiny shimmering insects as the wood stirs.
The weariness and fright in the boys plagues me with guilt. I brought them out here. I'm responsible for them being exposed to these horrible events. There was no stopping Minkah, but why did I allow Jounouchi and Honda to go too? Hearing about what these people are capable of and witnessing it firsthand are two very different things. The emotional impact could be catastrophic. I knew the risks when I brought Marik and Malik into our home, revealing a whole other world – a crueler, less kind one – to Yami and Yugi. This is even more extreme. It's actual warfare.
"Maybe they've found Kasiya and Severa," Marik continues to give more positive inputs even though he knows better than either Yugi or I the true graveness of the situation. "It would take a little while to gain trust and strategize with them."
"It would be a great help," I sigh leaning back into my chair, the gun at my side offering little comfort. "Perhaps they'll be able to assist Niu in calming Minkah a bit."
"Good luck with that," Yugi winces as he joins us, sitting on the other side of his brother who is leaning against Marik. "He's completely obsessed with his mother and all the lies Afika told him."
"Don't jump to conclusions so quickly," Marik warns his friend.
Yugi and I watch him, growing concerned when he won't look at us. Instead he tends to Yami, all the while knowing we're watching him with increasing worry.
"Marik…?"
"I don't know who's right or wrong," he admits in the whisper that is his voice. "Who should be blamed…I don't think anyone is. Kek, Afika, and the others…They all have their reasons."
"And those reasons include killing us!" Yugi exclaims in disbelief at what he is hearing. "Marik, I thought you of all people would understand how Minkah feels! Being mistreated, forced to live in forms of slavery, being told lies about how the world really is…!"
"Then you must also understand that I see it from their perspective as well," Marik disrupts somberly, lavender eyes dull. "Malik helped me escape. Malik stole, and murdered, and did whatever was necessary for me." He lifts his head and stares straight at me. "I have few memories of those times. The ones I do have are horrific. Even now he won't tell me the truth about our lives in the tombs and on the streets. Sometimes I wonder if the little bits he does tell me are factual at all. Isn't that what Afika did for Minkah?"
Yugi shakes his head determinedly. "You can't compare Afika to your brother. Marik, they're completely different people! Malik isn't running around trying to kill everyone!"
"But he did," I remind him quietly, having been contemplating Marik's words as they argue. "When I found him and Marik he tried to kill me. Malik had murdered anyone who came near them up until that point. Don't you remember how hostile he was when they first moved in, Yugi? He even broke Yami's arm."
Yugi looks back and forth between us. "But it's still not the same!"
"No, it isn't," Marik agrees. "Afika, unlike Malik, doesn't have anyone to give him a new direction. His purpose in life has always been doing the bidding of Apophis and slaughtering people. Well that purpose is gone and he's left to roam free with absolutely no idea what he should be doing. He only has one thing left to cling to that he recognizes."
"Minkah."
Marik nods with his mouth in a tight grim line. "Exactly. Just like with Malik and I living on the streets. When we escaped the tombs he focused solely on me. Everything he did was for me. What if something had happened to me? What if I'd died or became unable for him to control? What would he have done?"
Fear mounts in me at the uncanny similarities between the two cases. In my grandsons' case, I took them in and gave them new reasons to live. My biological grandsons and I showed them there was more to life than what they had been taught in the tombs. Afika and Minkah escaped Apophis, but later in their lives than Malik and Marik. That gave more time for them to be brainwashed. The problem is that Minkah found comfort and a new perception with us. Afika did not. Along with the secrets he has yet to share with anyone regarding the past, Afika basically is Malik back in Egypt without Marik.
He yearned for freedom but didn't really find it. While he led the revolution that defeated Apophis, in doing so he unintentionally destroyed his purpose in life. Now Afika is scrambling to grab the remaining pieces but has found only one: Minkah. His mental stability won't be nearly as intact as before. Even if he masks it, he will be confused and on edge. It won't take much to set him off. The only way to keep him calm is for Minkah to go along with Afika's plan. And in Minkah's current state of mind that is the last thing that's going to happen.
(Afika's POV)
Pacing back and forth in the small space, I am growing impatient. That's unlike me. I knew it would take Minkah time to get here. Kek won't just barge in either. If he would, he'd have been here a long time ago. No, he's lying in wait. That leaves me stuck here with this kid.
Glancing at Ryou's unconscious form on the sofa, I try not to compare him to Minkah. It isn't just the physically similarities passed through their shared genes. He acts as Minkah did way back when. It's aggravating me.
I wrap my fingers tightly around the hilt of the knife in my hands, running them along the detailed ivory carvings, the steel of the blade glinting dangerously. It's nearly time. Soon this will be over. A lifetime of battles has lead to this.
She said she wanted to show me how to live. She said she had dreams for the three of us. Dreams are just that: dreams. They are not a reality. She would deny that, say you could make realities. In some ways she was correct. I did just that, as did she. Both of us did it for Minkah. It was something he never knew and never will. If he does find out the entire truth then it is already over. That isn't possible though. Not without conversing with Kek. And I'm not about to let Ryou speak when Minkah gets here.
Telling the facts to the teen could have been a mistake on my part. That is of little importance provided he keeps his mouth shut. I could always cut out his tongue if necessary. It's not like he'll be needing it.
Staring at the ancient sword in my hand, I recall when she first showed me the weapon. She was so foolish about that useless bronze blade. What good was it to anyone that way? I've never understood the idea of mounting such a magnificent piece on a wall or putting it behind glass. That's not what it was made for. If something doesn't have a purpose then all of its real value is gone no matter what anyone claims.
Another moment of doubt creeps into my mind and I hastily slide the knife into its sheath. When the time comes I shall not falter. Ryou moans on the couch, puffs of breath like smoke. I'll only be eased when there are no more breaths from him.
(Dimah's POV)
"…and then Afika grabbed it an' threw it against the wall and it was dead!" Minkah squeals as I tuck them in for the night.
It's at least the tenth time my son has recounted this story to me since it occurred earlier in the day when a viper found its way into our home. Afika had taken action without delay. While Minkah's reports become more and more exaggerated each time they are told, I had not seen someone with such a lack of fear for snakes since my family. My mother cowered before the sight of no snake. If it was non-venomous she allowed it to remain where it was. And unless an immediate threat, venomous serpents were moved unharmed to a safe place away from where they might encounter humans.
"It's time for sleep not for tales, Minkah," I chastise without much conviction as he wriggles under the blankets to get comfortable.
Afika slithers beside him, never once speaking of the incident with the snake. Over the weeks he's been here I've grown to believe that he hasn't interacted much with other children. Or perhaps he's not used to another kid being so enthusiastic to have him around. It made him very uncomfortable at first. Afika didn't know what to do with regards to my son. The black-haired child is different than most of the children I came across. What is his purpose then? What do they want of him?
"Sing us a song so we can get to sleep," Minkah chirps before releasing a big yawn.
I smile and ruffle his white locks. Afika still shies away from such contact. He's grown accustomed to many things. Being mistreated as he has, I am amazed at the progress he's made in the small amount of time he's been with us. It gives me conviction that he still is redeemable.
Glancing back down at the boys on the mattress Minkah has snuggled against Afika and is fast asleep. The other is quite used to this. The first night it happened I was certain he was going to harm Minkah with that wild look in his eyes. Now he is borderline overprotective of my son. To him, everyone who so much as looks at Minkah is a threat. While it's unsettling at his attachment to Minkah, it's a bond he's never experienced before. Due to his reaction, it would appear he wants these new relationships with Minkah and me even if he doesn't fully grasp the concept. There's no ability to hate Afika. My fear intensifies nonetheless when no one comes looking for him. That is not Apophis' way. Deserters are tracked down and butchered like animals. He must notice the tension in my face and I quickly mask it with reassurance.
"Would you like a song, malak?" I honestly don't know if he likes the lullabies or not. Minkah is always the one making the requests.
Tenderly I reach out and brush black bangs from his eyes. That is all he permits. He does not shy away, allowing the foreign touch. Understanding is lacking when it comes to everyday things. Behind the curtains and masks is a mystified child who has taken off the tinted lenses and is seeing the full spectrum of colors for the first time. I cannot begin to imagine what it is like for the boy.
"Which is your favorite? 'The Chickens'? 'Sleep'?" I venture several of the ones Minkah desires to hear the most often.
Afika shakes his head, hair messy around him as the back of his head is pressed into the lumpy pillow. Those eyes are sharp like diamonds used to cut other gems. They cut into me.
"Which is it then, malak?"
"Doha ya doha."
I gaze at him in perplexity. "What?"
"The song," he prompts. "That is the best one."
(Ryou's POV)
This time when I awaken I don't open my eye. There's a violent pounding in my temple like someone is taking a sledgehammer to it. I fight the urge to hold my hand to my throbbing head, knowing it will only attract Afika's attention. His behavior is becoming more erratic. It's frightening. I don't want him focused on me at all. He can dwell in his own demented world until my brother gets here.
I can hear frayed breathing quite faintly. The cold is getting to him at last. No matter how hard he was trained and taught to endure the elements the human body has its limits. He's gradually shutting down. The problem is I don't think I can outlast him in such a contest. The blood loss is a critical factor that not even his presented coat can change. My bare fingers and shoeless toes are going numb. To top that off, I cannot even remain conscious.
My ears strain when I hear him whisper something. It's almost like a mantra of some kind. There's a slow steady rhythm to it. It's eerie yet soothing. Almost like the lulling drum of a heartbeat.
"…Wa al-ka'aka fi al'makhzan
Wa al'makhzan yih'yaj muftah…"
The murmur is melodious in the flowing language I recognize as Arabic. I'm able to catch only a few words from it. Barely knowing the basics, I cannot keep up with the pace as the words string together in an elaborate weaving my mind cannot follow. Listening raptly, I search for a meaning as to what he's saying or the reason behind it. No one is answering. I don't hear any radio device he might be talking into. It can't be a prayer. He wouldn't believe in anything like that. What is it then? Is he relaying a message to someone? There are no regular pauses as in a conversation.
"…Wa al-bagara tibgh'a al-hasheesh
Wa al-hasheesh foog al-jabal…"
I dare not ask. I'm not sure I'm even capable of speaking anymore. It's like he's casting a spell upon me. The alien words pacify my fears and I feel myself slipping away again. The soft peculiar chanting is calming me like a...
…almost…like a…
"Doha ya doha…"
(Niu's POV)
"Please!" the soldier begs cowering before Honda who stands poised, gun aimed at the man.
There is emptiness in the teen's hazel eyes as he attempts to pent up any and all emotions. The snow around us is dyed a dark red and the smell is repugnant. Jounouchi is leaning against a tree vomiting violently. My weapons were, as Apophis would call it, a success. Even with their experience in battle, it is the soldiers who lay dead at our feet. Jounouchi took a bullet to his arm. Having slowed the bleeding, and given we now have a mode of transportation, it is not life threatening. Now he's dry-heaving, stomach acid dripping from his open mouth like saliva.
"Please d-don't!" the man implores, cringing as Honda's finger curls around the trigger.
"Enough," I speak, stalking forward. "It is enough."
Honda's chest is heaving at the adrenaline rush, eyes feral when they snap to me. He, like Jounouchi and I, is covered in blood spatter. Aside from the blonde, it is not ours. In a daze Honda looks back and forth between me and the remaining soldier as if unable to believe what he's seeing. Lieutenant Hiroki and his men are scattered in a bloodbath. The power of our weapons ripped them to shreds.
Walking up to Honda, I gingerly take the gun from him. "Get Jounouchi inside. We must leave."
Too shaken to argue, he stumbles away from me towards his friend. I watch him with a sinking feeling in my gut. They should not have had to do this. This is my first time killing as well but I have seen my fair share of bloodshed. I made the weapons used to commit these horrendous atrocities. That was the part I played. Who are they? They're two ordinary teens who go to school and hang out with their friends. They grew up getting in trouble and goofing around. They didn't kill their peers or watch their families die. They are not assassins, mercenaries, or soldiers.
I should never have put guns in their hands.
The soldier cringing on the ground cannot be much older than me. He reminds me of that kind private Ichiro who I must assume is dead. He was most likely at the encampment when Kek infiltrated it. I stare into the young man's terror-filled eyes, my ears tracking Honda and Jounouchi's movements. The door of one of the army vehicles slams shut.
Motioning with an arm for the soldier to get up he hastily scrambles to his feet. There's blood oozing from a wound to his side. With his heavy jacket and gear it's difficult to tell the extent of the injury.
"I won't…tell any-anybody!" he stutters with pleading eyes as I pilot him to a clearing away from his fallen comrades and their weapons.
"Stay here," I command him brandishing my own gun, Honda's slung over my shoulder.
The young man nods hurriedly that he understands. I put him there so I'll catch him if he makes for gun beside any of the other soldiers or if he tries to flee. Keeping him in sight, I make my way to the vehicle where Honda and Jounouchi reside. Undoing the hatch I open the door. They're sitting huddled next to one another with white ashen faces. Both look up at me when I enter.
"Where's the soldier?" Honda asks hoarsely.
"Waiting outside," I brush past them to the controls. "I teach you how to drive."
"And the soldier?" Honda presses as he approaches me on shaking legs. "What about the soldier?"
Scanning the controls, I quickly become accustomed to the mechanics of how to operate it. Thankfully it is not as complicated as I feared. Placing a hand on Honda's shoulder, I move him beside me to view the controls.
"This is…"
"What about the soldier?" he repeats, mind stuck on the man I wouldn't let him kill. "What are we going to do about him?"
I glance at Jounouchi who is sitting back in the 'passenger' section where the soldiers rode. His eyes are closed, facial muscles pinched in psychological and physical pain. He's breathing in deep gulps in an attempt to compose himself. Honda, while he's up and talking, is not faring much better.
"Do not worry about that," I tell him. He needs to concentrate. "The others are waiting for us. You and Jounouchi will drive back and get to place with doctor."
"What about you?" he rasps while his eyes try to focus on the board of switches and lights before us.
"I will go ahead with the other one," I nod out the front window to the second large vehicle, "to help get Ryou return."
It is plain to see how torn he is about having me go on alone. Both he and I are well aware that Jounouchi cannot operate this machine in his current condition. Besides, they both have already experienced too much combat. Their mission is to get the others back at the mansion to safety and Yami to a hospital. The language barrier keeps me from saying all I would like to. He understands nonetheless. If I can train him how to operate this thing and send them in the right direction, it won't have been in vain.
(Honda's POV)
"I program several way for you to go," Niu points to a screen near me after a crash course on how to drive this thing. On it is a map of the area with several different colored lines zigzagging across it. "This is the best." His finger traces over the green line. "Try blue next if needed."
I try to ignore the smear of blood his glove leaves on the screen, taking an unsteady gulp of air. My body won't stop shaking. Jounouchi is curled up on a seat in the back area clutching his arm and staring at nothing. He's never been quiet for this long. I have to hold myself together. Our friends are waiting for us. I can't let them down.
"What will you do?" I ask quietly. "If you catch up with Malik and Minkah what will you do?"
Niu tilts his head slightly to the side. "I do not understand."
"Will you fight Kek and the others?" I clarify though I'm certain of his answer.
"If I have to." His dark intelligent eyes don't miss my apprehension. "You stay on what you do. I worry about me. You worry about you. If we worry about other then we are distracted. If we are distracted we are dead. Aiywa?" Niu offers a bleak smile.
Forcing my lips to lift slightly I nod stiffly. "Right."
Nodding in return, he walks around me to check on Jounouchi one last time. Niu has his gun and mine. I don't ask for it back and he doesn't offer. We still have Jounouchi's if we have no other option. This vehicle is bulletproof and well-armored. With any luck we won't need the gun.
I watch as he says something to our friend who barely acknowledges his presence, too consumed by the chaos earlier. No matter how much you hear about it and talk about it, it doesn't prepare you when it comes time to take a life. And we all took many lives out there. Niu doesn't ask either of us to come with him into another imminent battle. He can perceive we are unable. It makes me feel weak that he can do it and I cannot. That makes me sick. How much of my humanity did I lose by killing those men?
"I must go."
Niu's standing before me again. There are lines on his face etching the strain and weariness but also the determination. There's no talking him out of this. I'm afraid for him. Even with these advanced guns, he's not a fighter. He's not a trained killer like his former comrades. They will murder without hesitation. They relish in the pain of others. Compared to them he doesn't stand a chance in hell. With bile in my throat, I realize this could be the last time I ever see him alive, ever talk to him. The chances of him coming back, even in a body bag, are slim to none.
Images of the screaming terrified soldiers as we blew them to hell…of Afika with Kaiba's mutilated head…of the psychological anguish we've had to watch Minkah, Ryou, and Niu endure…All of it floods into my brain at once in a violent torrent.
How strange I could feel this protective of someone I know virtually nothing about. Or perhaps things like names, family, history, and pastimes aren't all that important. I know who he is. He's repentant of the part he played in Apophis. Niu is doing all he can to make up for it. Whether it's by saving as many innocent lives he can or by killing the remaining assassins, I do not know. I'm praying, for his sake, that it's the former. As he turns to leave I can't help but ask.
"Niu." He looks back over his shoulder at me. "What about the soldier?"
"Do not worry about that. Worry about you. Remember?"
"I can't do that," I say quietly while clutching the doorframe. "Please…"
"If I could, I would stay and tell many things," he muses in a sad but composed manner as he looks out at the soldier trembling on the ground in the distance. "I would change much."
"Then talk to me!" It's an eerie thing, like the last confessional before an execution. Anything he would have someone know about himself or his life, any lasting impressions he wishes to leave…this is his final chance.
"There is too much…and most should never be said again."
"I don't want you to force yourself to kill more people and die a nobody!" I yell at him as anger erupts inside of me.
It's not fair. He was never a murderer. Why should he have to start now? He shouldn't have to die a killer!
He regards me in painful silence before responding to my words and fury. "It would work. Niu was the god of nothingness," he refers to the ancient Egyptian name he was given. "Fitting way to die."
"Don't die as Niu then, die as yourself!" I seethe stepping towards him. "Be who you used to be!"
The ache that appears in his features makes my heart wrench. "I cannot do that."
I won't let that be his answer. In several large strides I've grabbed him roughly by the arm as he makes to exit the vehicle. He gazes up at me, already on the steps leading to the ground. We're both coated in blood, our clothes dyed. The metallic stench is revolting. This is enough blood.
"There is a line to cross," he tells me in a soft monotone. "It is when things cannot go back how they were. You and Jounouchi have crossed it by killing. Every time you kill it is harder get back over the line. Do not be like me."
"You're not like them!" I insist not releasing him, tightening my hold. "Promise me you won't be a hero!" He gazes at me in perplexity. "Promise you'll come back!" I get to my point. "Then you will tell me about your life and your friends and family. You'll teach Jou more Arabic so he'll annoy the crap out of us. You'll stay with us and we'll call you by your real name…!"
He gently pries my hand from his arm, all the while wearing a small smile on his face. "If I come back, I do these things."
"When you come back," I say standing in the doorway above him as he reaches the snow. "And you're coming back to do all those things we just talked about, all right?"
He conjures a weak smile that isn't fooling either of us. "Aiywa."
(Dimah's POV)
"What?" I ask at his request.
"The song. That is the best one."
I'm unprepared for this. What do I say? Throwing the truth at him could have an extremely negative effect. We're establishing a fragile trust. I'll have to be sensitive with this. Nevertheless, I am baffled by this turn of events. It's something I would never have foreseen.
"That's your favorite?"
He gives me a strange look. "If you don't like it then why do you sing it?"
"It's not like that, malak," I assure him hurriedly while tucking the blankets around him and Minkah. "It's just…I haven't sung it in a while. I don't remember how it goes."
The child scrutinizes me. "How could you forget it? You sing it all the time."
"Apparently I'm a bit rusty," I grin apologetically sitting on the edge of the mattress. "Remind me how it goes."
Gazing at me doubtfully, gauging to see if this is some sort of test or trick, he begins softly:
"Doha ya doha and they built the Ka'aba
And with zamzam water they put on it
My father traveled to Mecca…"
I listen, rocking lightly to the tune as he croons in a soft voice that does not match his usual demeanor.
"He brought me a kind of cookie
The cookie is now in the storage
And the storage needs a key
The key is with the carpenter
And the carpenter wants money…"
I begin to hum along with his voice, gently running my fingers through his uneven bangs. He slows, and I can hear the sleep enter his voice as he struggles to stay awake.
"…The mountain wants rain
Fall rain fall on the mountain… on my…niece's pumpkins
My niece…gave birth to…a son…"
Tears sting and escape in the dark as I sway back and forth, gently massaging his scalp as he slips into dreams. I continue to hum the tune long after he falls silent. My heart is breaking as I hum the unforgotten lullaby, praying for this child who deserves to be loved like he was before. It wasn't that I didn't wish to sing this song for him. I don't know it.
I've never heard it before in my life.
(Honda's POV)
"There are radio system in the vehicles," Niu explains to me as he and I stand outside. "We can talk through those."
"Sounds good." The knot in my throat won't loosen but I'm trying to keep a brave face. "Is there a range they won't work anymore?"
"When you get down the road away from the houses we will not hear each other," he calculates.
That means I'll have approximately twenty minutes—maybe less with these vehicles—after we pick up Mr. Mutou and the others and head for the nearest town before we lose contact with Niu. There are many modifications he could make but we've already used enough time. The fight with the army was a huge delay. We can't risk waiting any longer.
I cast a glance at the soldier who is watching us warily. He's pale, having lost a good deal of blood from a bullet to his abdomen. I would take him with us but he would rat us out to the first people we come across. We can't trust he'll keep his mouth shut. It's awful because he isn't one of the ones who harassed us before. I don't recognize him. There he is: bleeding, surrounded by his dead comrades, and utterly terrified. To him we are Apophis. If Niu takes him with then he might side with whoever fights Niu. There's no way out of this one.
Niu notes my apprehension resting a hand on my shoulder. "Worry about you. Go."
Without looking at him or the soldier I climb into the army vehicle and slam the door. Taking several deep breaths, I go up the stairs, my feet like blocks of cement. Jou is staring blankly at a wall. More disheartened than ever, I move to the main area and thrust the gears. The machine roars like a monster in a movie. Jou nearly jumps out of his seat. I'm momentarily deaf before becoming accustomed to the noise. When I look out the window I wish I hadn't. The soldier is not far away curled up on the ground. Niu is standing there watching me with a stony face. He's taken his gun out but just waits. It takes me a moment to understand why.
"Thanks," I whisper carefully maneuvering the large vehicle out into a clearing and thundering off through the trees.
For all the racket it makes, I wish it were louder. Even with its blaring engine and shrieking gears, the single gunshot continues to ring in my ears long after Niu pulled the trigger.
The face off will be next chapter! 8D It's been long in the waiting!
Minkah: You're telling me. -.-;
So Dimah is our credible narrator, though Kek knows something no one else (besides Dimah) does. I decided to begin bringing her side of the story in sooner than planned. It was actually all going to be one chapter following the big fight(s). Looking over my plans, it just seemed way too out of place and on its own. Plus it's better to have somewhat of an idea of what is going through the characters' heads when they face-off. :P In the long run, it will make it more emotional. It gives a clearer view of where they stand.
Minkah: -blinks- I'm standing right here.
Brilliant boy. -.-;
So I don't want people panicking thinking I'm turning Afika into a "good-guy" all of a sudden. (I'm talking to you especially, XxYourXxDisasterXx) ;) He also isn't going to be mushy or apologetic next chapter. Quite the opposite. I just don't want to scare anyone concerning his childhood self being "soft". We all know that went downhill regardless of who tells it.
If you haven't had a chapter dedication in a while raise your hand! ;D