At the back of my mind, I wonder about Calista. She never disclosed the nature of her assignment; I didn’t understand why. We’ve always told each other about our assignments, but this particular one she insisted on keeping to herself. This bothered me. What did she have to hide? I remember the look she gave me when I tried to press the answer out of her. She shrugged her shoulders, raising them as high as the top of her pointed ears, her arms spread wide, eyes rolled to the ceiling. She wanted me to drop the matter, and when I didn’t, she decided to distract me. Slipping her fingers around my neck, playing with the thick cornrows that rest on my shoulders, her lips inches from my ears. At that moment I faltered, she knew my ears were sensitive, and she also knew I’d never forget what she secretly swore not to tell.
This is the first time we’ve been separated on assignments. It feels strange, almost like she has deserted me. There’s a vacant space by my side - a constant reminder that I am alone, even though I am not - with Khari, her older brother as my companion. From that day when her family took us in, and I laid eyes on the thick curls framing her oval-shaped face, the inquisitive stare in her light brown eyes, I knew this was the beginning of a feeling that I trusted would later make me feel whole. I was enfolded in a loving embrace as if I was a long lost sibling of theirs. It helped after the life I had lived.
Khari touches my shoulder, and I snap back to reality.
The first Earthling we encounter happens to be my neighbour. When we walk into my apartment on the 9th floor, she is coming out of her own. A quizzical look display across her face. I’m not one to judge, but she is giving off some vibe. Her aura is chilling but soothing. I am unaccustomed to this dichotomy with such rawness beneath.
Khari, on the other hand, enjoys her inquisitive stare. A smirk plays across his face, as he admires her curvy figure, his knuckles in his mouth. Her small black heels click together as she straightens her pencil skirt. The girls back home loved him, so in his eyes, he didn’t think the females here would be any different. Once a player always a player, or as he likes to call it…a lady’s man. He’s convinced they just can’t live without him -not to mention he’s the Prince of the First Dynasty. Even without such a title his charisma and robust character are a real draw for any female that lays eyes on him. This one, however, appears immune to his charms.
Her silver-grey eyes look us up and down. She notices the way Khari’s thick reddish brown locks rubs against his chiseled jaw as he removes his hood. Khari caresses the half-formed stubble around his mouth. She continues to admire his broad shoulders and lanky build as she folds her arms across her chest. Khari watches her, his dark brown eyes staring into her soul. When she looks in my direction, I feel her arms loosen. She smiles as her eyes trace the baby hairs that have frayed at my hairline. The stud earring in my right ear glistens in the light above almost willing her to step closer.
“Hi, I’m Tahir.” Khari steps forward out of the doorway his gloved hand outstretched. She cocks her head to the side a smile parting her full lips. “You don’t look like a Tahir,” she said with a honeyed voice that matches her midnight skin. Khari lets out a low chuckle. If only you knew the half of it. She slips her bare hand in his as her eyes meet mine. “And you are?”
I place my hand on Khari’s shoulder steering him into the apartment. “By the looks of it, your new neighbour.” My eyes slip to her blazer which has a name tag reading Maliyah. Without a second thought, I give her the satisfaction of knowing my name, while proceeding to act disinterested. “Michael.” She makes a sound of disbelief, shaking her head. Whether she believes us or not that doesn’t matter. She flicks her bone straight hair over her shoulder and makes a quick glance at my lips before taking off. I am use to women throwing themselves at me, but unlike Khari, I don’t give them the attention they crave. Only one person deserves it beside my mother. The way her energy reaches out to me has me shivering in disgust. Fascination and desperation is in the air. I can only laugh at her flirtatious efforts as she makes a fool of herself.
That night we plot how best to complete our assignment. In a square box, our false identities are tucked into envelopes. Khari is Tahir Moore a bartender/mixologist, and I’m Detective Michael Williams. Since Khari is twenty-four he doesn’t need to do much to fit into his role. We create a mood board with the description of the assignment at its centre. The task is to observe and monitor the Earthlings, looking out for potential threats to Genapa, Acirfa. Easy enough right? If it were, Emperor Rameses wouldn’t have sent two of his most skilled Supreme Warriors to Earth. He believes a group of people are leaking confidential information as well as seeking to infiltrate our world. We are to track them down, interrogate and send back confirmation, but by all means we must not bring them to Genapa.
Later, when my head touches my pillow, I feel the dream realm call to me. A purple haze circulates my head and dances across my eyes. I have the same nightmare that has been taunting me for years, still powerless to stop its outcome. Red sand slips between my toes. A boy shouts my name in alarm, as he rushes to push me out of the way. All of a sudden, I feel my heart pounding in my ears. My mouth forms to shout ‘no’, a hand outstretched. The intruder’s eyes meet mine, a cruel smile staining his lips. Red-light streams from his weapon as it aims for my head. I hear the trigger release, a cloud of smoke exploding as the bullet makes its departure. A lump forms in my throat - is this the end? But when the bullet fails to penetrate my skin, I knew it was worse than I thought. A life has been sacrified for my own. My Custodian has pushed me aside, taking the force of a bullet that was solely meant for me. He falls to the ground, and the nightmare ends where it always does - my vision blurring with endless tears and an aching hole that slowly eats away at my heart. My brother has fallen so that I can live another day.
For a memory, it never entirely plays out. All I see is his body falling before my eyes, blood leaking from his heart staining his shirt, and I can just about hear my parents call out to me. My motto is always to move forward never back, yet my dreams still drag me back to the past as if there is a lesson amongst it all. What could I possibly learn from the death of my brother from another mother? Other than that, I was physically inexperienced and incapable of protecting him. From that day forward since the First Dynasty took us in, I’ve pushed myself past my limits. Relentlessly, seeking to better my body and mind, vowing never to make the same mistake twice. I would be a protector of my people. My love for them and Calista would be my motivation. A man who doesn’t accept his masculinity and genetic birthright is no man at all.
Moments after another dream come to me that night. The purple haze stretches out into a white glow. This one is new. A white room with no visible door for a way out. I do not seem to be the only one here, but due to the smoke screen that dulls my vision, I am unable to make out their faces. There are about five of them, and they all appear to be connected to some device. A figure in a lab coat approaches, and soon I feel a needle pierce my neck. The dream ends. Forgotten.
“We cannot become what we want by remaining what we are.”
3
Question everything
{Calista}
I’m sitting on the floor, arms raised. A burning sensation marks my wrists where the shackles dig deep. There’s no sound. Water drips from above and slips into my hair mixing with the sweat that has gathered at my scalp. There’s a person opposite me with their head bowed drawing the number five in the ground. Their fingers increase in speed as their nails scratch at the dirt. The number ignites with a blue glow, and for the first time, there is light. It rushes towards me like a magnet picking at my face. My mouth opens wishing to scream, but I feel no pain. The blue glow creeps up my face and seeps into my eyes. When I reopen them, the person before me is closer than they were before.
Rapidly, my heart beats as I realise who it is.
A flutter of my eye, twitching of my hands has me reeling back. It’s me. A mark rests on my forehead: a Phoenix with the Eye of Horus in the Red Sun above i
ts head. It winks at me before disappearing. She presses her palms together and becomes an array of lunatic bats. Slowly, I begin to hear sounds. They flutter their wings and mingle with one another. Their rhythmic flap trapping the air; the droplets of water creating horrifying music- a portent what is to come. They target me with their radar; my chest tightens to the point where I can’t breathe. I rattle my chains. They won’t budge. I’m trapped. Hungrily, the swarm of bats watch me. As one they advance, I scream as their wings cut into my skin, digging deeper than my flesh. They claw their way through me, it and I become one. Its wingss stretch across my skin like wet paint covering me in a cocoon of dried wax. The blue glow goes out, and the number five disappears.
“Where am I?” Groggily, I raise my head from my chest. Remnants of my dream still invade my mind. My fear, most of all, remains. A question I often ask myself: what are you afraid of Cali? If not father and his merciless teachings about life, then what? Do I fear myself? Perhaps the anger that bubbles in my blood, shaking my core after being contained for too long? These are the kind of thoughts that attack my mind in my new confinement.
My hands are in chains against a wall behind bars made of steel. Rust covers its thick poles. Some form of green glow circulates it, which seem to be the reason why it still holds together. From what I can see, there are about three levels with every cell containing two people or more. The dim light above makes it hard to make out their faces. The smell of burning flesh, vomit and reeking body odours stain the air. No matter where I redirect my nose, I cannot rid myself of death’s presence. The walls are caked with a brown substance, tiny fissures sprouting from it like weeds. My shackles are attached to the wall. With slow and controlled movements, I yank at my chains. A stream of debris drips into my hair.
“Would not do that.” A child’s voice drifts to my ears. Desperately, I search for her until I locate two small eyes under the bunk beds. She is completely cloaked in the dark, bathing in its glory. It compliments her skin, if not for her wide eyes I would have thought she was an extension of its embrace. Her small hands rest under her chin as she rocks her head like the chiming of the hands on a wooden clock. When the hook in the wall finally gives she whispers, “They are coming for you.”
I squint my eyes, cocking my head to the side. Slowly she moves closer to the light.
“Who are they?” Her bald head, tattooed with ancient symbols snaps to the gate as footsteps are heard coming into the room on the ground floor. Her birthmark I suppose, some form of badge: a phoenix dancing with a partial eclipse is visible near the periphery of her forehead.
“Who are they?” I repeat more forcefully. She doesn’t reply and creeps back into the shadows. Her silver eyes are all that remains. Two sets of feet, one in shoes, appear at our cell gate.
“She’s awake,” he said. “Tamari, her chains.”
A pair of black shoes comes into my line of vision. My fingers circle the screw at the end of my chains and carefully whip it out in search of the stranger’s face. It misses, he steps back, and my kidnapper catches it with finesse. Like his panther, he moves without a sound. Tamari clenches his jaw and stiffly shakes his head.
“This is kidnapping you know,” I say, my voice sounding hoarse. They ignore me and judging from their silence they could care less how I am feeling. The stranger grabs my wrists and stares at the shackles. I feel the shackles constrict moulding around my skin like clay to take on a permanent form. In his eyes, a blue ring quickly disappears, a minuscule sample of what the Blue Star’s energy can do. Just as impressive, is how easily he commands it without faltering under its purity and overwhelming power.
He shoves a bottle into my hand. I want to fill the water in my mouth and spit it into their faces, but the grating of my bones in my trachea restrains me.
How dare they, don’t they know who I am?
The stranger steps forward into the light; I feel the water halt in my throat, a low choking sound barely audible. I hardly notice when Tamari snatches the bottle from my closed fists. My heart constricts. Breathe. Tamari’s companion steps forth into the light.
I know him, not personally, but my father, Emperor Rameses, at one point showed me his picture. A charming young man who commands strength and confidence with just the stern look in his eyes and his strong posture, which indicates he is not the person to pick a fight with. With eyes like his, a never-ending burning fire dancing across his gaze, I am the one to see the challenge he wills anyone to take up and accept it in a heartbeat. The fire is my calling.
His eyes glisten in the dark. “What’s the matter?” A devilish smile raises his cheekbones.
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” I lick my lips; maybe I have. Unlike Tamari, he has a skin tone that is very similar to my own, more black-blue than dark brown. It reminds me of Dakarai’s which is just as smooth. Questions bubble in my mind, but none touch my tongue. This is strange. Never have I been speechless. My mind and my mouth have always run as though in a constant flow of debate. But sitting here looking up at him as if I am a scullion deeply disturbs me. We both have the same status and yet to be treated as anything less has my body tensing. I try to communicate my contumacy with my eyes. He seems to notice and laughs. It reminds me of that horrid dry laugh my father would use when I embarrass myself in my attempts to impress him during close combat. Once again, Tamari stiffly shakes his head and clenches his jaw. Either he knows I am making a fool out of myself, or this whole situation sickens him. My father’s words come to mind: they all disappeared, a ghost in the wind, as my vision starts to blur.
They both turn and leave, locking me inside. I look at his shiny black shoes feeling my eyes become lazy.
“Soon it will all make sense. You are here for a purpose far greater than you are yet to understand.” His words leave me with raging thoughts that threaten to take me under.
“Hell is empty, and all the devils are here”
- Shakespeare
4
Deception or reality
{Calista}
My father is known to hand me worthless assignments that barely allow me to prove myself to him. He told us a week before that he was going to issue some new assignments which required high levels of skill and strategy, as he believed an uprising was brewing outside the walls of Aelburn. We never knew where he was getting his information from, and it was clear he wanted to keep that a secret.
To prove my worth, in any way possible, I decided to take up the opportunity of knowing all the assignments. When father was out in his community on official business, I sneaked into his study room. He’s a predictable person depending on what you’re searching for, but to my surprise, they weren’t in his desk drawer. I went to his bookcase and soon after discovered a hidden passage. I followed the energy balls that illuminated a path down the glass stairs and quickly spotted a mirror ahead. Shaped like a spade with thorns wrapped around its base, this was no ordinary looking glass. To my knowledge thorns represented hardship, sin, and sorrow. In the back of my mind, I had wondered what father’s crimes were, to have sprouted such a harsh plant not far from his chambers.
As I continued to look in the mirror, a blue light shone, beckoning me to caress its surface. My fingers reached out for the glass, expecting to feel a hard exterior. Instead, it felt like a jelly substance. My hand passed through. I remembered thinking why my father had a piece of Rimorr, the Mirror Realm, in his lair. On the other side of the ‘jelly’, my hand felt around and soon located an envelope. I pulled it through and carefully opened it, not wanting to break the seal. Inside were two papyrus tablets. Both assignments seemed to be linked, but only one caught my eye. If I had known that day what I know now, I would have considered not switching the assignments. Maybe Dakarai and Khari would have handled themselves better against Tamari and lake Myopia.
*
A buzzer ahead sounds, and the gates to all cells open. Behind me, people with backs hunched and shackles rattling, shuffle out of their cells in an orderly fashion
like zombies. A small hand tugs on mine pulling me to follow the queue. On the ground floor, we are lead outside. I expect the sun to blind me, but it is nowhere in sight. Smoke blankets the sky. Not even the Red Sun could peek through its thickness.
Everyone looks to be in a depressed mood. Rubbish litters sunken roads lined with crumbling buildings. Every block is surrounded with armed soldiers similar to Tamari; the only difference is they wear close-fitted hoodies and loose jeans. The women have their hair slicked back in a bun, whereas the men have their faces completely covered except for their eyes. Their outfits are intriguing, but their aura is chilling and makes my body shiver. I’ve always had an eye for danger, that’s what attracted me to this assignment.
Ahead, I see a massive waterfall shrouded in a green fog. As we approach, everyone breaks formation rushing to drink the water. I look at them strangely, it is clearly contaminated, but that doesn’t seem to bother them. The more I watch, the more my body aches to join them. It isn’t long before I give in and drink a handful. It’s as though I have sucked a lemon rolled in toxic waste with stones. Sickening. I rub my tongue along my arm, which makes it worse. A couple of seconds later everyone is pulled beyond the waterfall.
The Masterpiece (The shadow I cast Book 1) Page 2