Wednesday 14 November 2018

Where The Sands Fly Free



*Warmth enveloping her chest, Rodessa could feel the helplessly affectionate smile spreading across her lips*

Rodessa: *Weak chuckle* ...Idiot.

*In the Izumo province, Rodessa stretched out over her current bed. Unlike some of the more traditional rooms within the inn they were staying in, the room that Madam Povel shared with them was more a western style, complete with raised beds rather than futons, likely for the comfort of foreign guests. There was touches to it that did seem to fit the decor that Rodessa recalled back when she had been informed about her transfer to Pandora. It was no real wonder that Madam Pouvel had made certain they were housed here.

Not that Rodessa was complaining. She couldn’t say that the beds weren’t comfy. Only made sense she was to get some compensation, considering the circumstances.

Speaking of comforts...Rodessa turned her attention back to her communicator, complete with the picture and message that her partner had sent to her one more time, before finally clicking off the screen, only to open up his contact information. After a message like that, how could she not want to talk to him, especially with him being on that mission all the way in China without her watching his back.

It only rang twice before it picked up, the familiar, yet oddly hoarse voice of her partner caught her ear*

Huxian: Morning, beautiful. Sleep well?

*Oh, wait, she hadn’t even considered the time difference...Honestly, she wasn’t entirely sure how much of a difference there was, considering she wasn’t entirely sure which part of China Huxian was in at that moment. (Was it Beijing? She thought it might be. At least, that was where he had been, but a mission didn’t always keep a person in the same area, after all). Even so, he sounded tired...*

Rodessa: Oh...did I wake you?

Huxian: Ah, no, I’ve been up for a while. There’s a lot going on right now...buuuuut, I’m...sort of stuck in the med bay-

Rodessa: YOU’RE HURT?!!

Huxian: *Weak yawn* Nah, nothing like that. I’ve just been...Overworked. Using too much energy, I guess you could say. Still, no good to the mission if I keel over, right? So for the next few days I’m going to be resting here.

*That was a relief. Much better than the horror stories her mind had come up with the moment she heard he was confined to a medical room, thank god*

Rodessa: Idiot! Don’t get me worried like that, ok...? I need you here with me once this mission is over.

Huxian: Awwww, how sw- wait a minute, this is because of that free shopping trip, isn’t it?

Rodessa: *Mischievous grin* Well, that too, but-

Huxian: Did you sleep well?

*Slightly thrown off by the topic change, Rodessa blinked*

Rodessa: Huh?

Huxian: My original question, rosebud - did you have pleasant dreams?

Rodessa: Oh. Yeah. I was making out with that hot guy from my dreams, then I woke up to you and Mr Fluffington. And set it as my screensaver.

Huxian: *Chuckle* You know, people will talk if you have me as your wallpaper and screensaver. My my, I might think you like me, ahaha!

Rodessa: Oh buzz off, Mr Spoil-You-Rotten-Pick-Me-Up

Huxian: What, you don’t need one? Well, I guess I could always take back my off-

Rodessa: Don’t you fucking dare! And here I was going to tell you something interesting as well, but if you aint gonna to play nice…

Huxian: Alright, alright, I’ll behave myself. So, what were you going to tell me? I’m all ears.

Rodessa: Well, you know how I told you about some research materials I was given when I came here to ‘bring me up to scratch’? I found something interesting a collection of stories and accounts from ancient egypt, it took a while translating it but...


Huxian: Oh?

Rodessa: Well, if you have some time, there’s a cute story you might want to hear. It’s about a father and son...or...two brothers...Yeah, two brothers.

Huxian: ...Which is it?

Rodessa: They’re Egyptians, so god knows! Anyway, wanna hear the story?

Huxian: Sure, I have time.

*Well, he was stuck in the medical bay, so he likely had nothing but time, other than to sleep. Still, she made sure to pull up the relevant document on her communicator, before clearing her throat*

Rodessa: Well then, I’ll begin. The story takes place in Ancient Egypt, long before the first pyramid had been constructed…

*Ra’s journey across the sky was still in its early stages, casting his bright light across the golden desert sands, not yet scorched by his intense gaze. The gentle breeze, delightfully temperate, carried with it the life song of the bazaar, already lively, and livelier still by the procession of noblemen en route to the palace, bearing gifts and offering to their Pharaoh.

In the distance stood three ornate royal tents made of fine cotton and golden silk, and were heavily guarded in order to protect the person of great importance within. As the men and their cargo were allowed entry, the elegant drape ‘doors’ pulled aside, they were treated with a rare sight.

A small child of around six summers stood upon a box pointing what appeared to be a crudely made wooden sword towards three elegantly dressed women, candidates to become the great royal wife. The child’s skin was lightly bronzed, large round eyes, as if formed of the sun son brightly as he glared at each candidate, all of whom were steadily becoming irritated by the young child’s tantrum. However, despite this, the child was undeterred*

Boy: No, I will never allow my great brother to marry any of these...fish women!

Candidate 1: Ugh...

Candidate 2: *Under breath* This is ridiculous…

Candidate 3: I think it’s cute, don’t you?

*Glaring all the more intently, the boy’s single braid swayed sharply as he flailed his ‘weapon’ up and down in what he appeared to think as threatening. Behind him sat the very target of the boy’s ‘protection’, the young Pharaoh himself. Far from annoyed by the antics disturbing his work, the Pharaoh, eyes glittering, shook his head in amusement, an almost mischievous smile tugging at his lips. Turning his attention back to his work, he called out to his ‘guard’*

Pharaoh: Oh, Nkosi, my dear Majai, what appears to be the problem?

Nkosi: Lord Brother! These three Jerboa before me attempted to bypass me to get to you! As your protector, I will not let you come to harm!

Candidate 1: Wh-? We are not harming the Pharaoh. This is a marriage meeting.

Candidate 2: ...Or meant to be?

Candidate 3: *Chuckle* Oh come now. If anything, the little one is entertaining.

*From the congregating council of nobles at the doorway, one of the escorting guards stepped forwards - a woman, who’s beauty rivaled that of the candidates but for a long scar that marred her cheek, marking her as not just a woman, but a warrior in her own right. Dressed in fine silk and glinting armour, a great blade strapped to her hip, the woman strode forwards, unfastening her blade and resting it on the ground as she bowed before her Pharaoh. Once respect to the great leader had been met, the woman approached the now exuberant child, gathering him into her arms*

Nkosi: *Hug* NUBIA!

*The child nuzzled into the woman - Nubia’s - bosom. A soft smile crossed the warrior’s face as she, in turn, cradled Nkosi in a tight, yet gentle embrace, kissing his forehead. The Pharaoh himself straightened somewhat in his seat, a welcoming smile warming his face*

Pharaoh: Finally returned, Nubia. You are welcome.

Nubia: Good afternoon, your majesty. I have brought before your your new council. I imagine that young prince Nkosi has not been too much trouble?

Nkosi: *Puffed cheeks* I have not caused trouble. I have been defending my lord brother, as Nubia does to me. Be careful, we are in a harpies lair!!!

Candidate 1: So, we’re harpies now?

Candidate 2: We’ve been called everything else under Ra...Might as well be harpies, too.

Candidate 1: Seriously, if you’re going to call us something, try calling us goddesses?

Nkosi: Silence! The wicked shall be punished by the great Nkosi! Seeker of Justice!

Pharaoh: Pft! Well then, all hail Nkosi, Seeker of Justice!

*Laughter swept through the tent as the procession began to settle within. It was hard for anyone to remain solemn when even the Pharaoh himself was entertained by the scene.

Meanwhile, Nubia glanced towards where the increasingly irked candidates sat, before bowing down to retrieve both the boy’s wooden ‘blade’ and her own, using the movement to hide her smile so as not to agitate the child in her arms. Once she had straightened, she spoke, voice ringing out, as if to train the young child*

Nubia: Oh, you believe that you can protect the Pharaoh? That is the job of a Majai, no? How can you be one, when you cannot yet swing your sword correctly?

Nkosi: I can! I can do it?

Nubia: Oh, you can, can you?

Nkosi: Uh huh! I can, can, can, I can!

Nubia: I see. Then, show me what we have practiced. I am sure that you wish for Pharaoh to see how much you have grown while he was away.

*She exaggerated her tone slightly to give the child motivation as she set him down on his feet, handing to him the wooden blade*

Nubia: *Emphasis* And to show him how strong, smart and capable you have become, now that you are a big boy.

*The small child nodded gravely, determination glinting in his eyes. The warrior bowed to Nkosi before drawing her blade, the child copying her movement the best he could, though lacked the smooth grace of his retainer, fumbling through it as a child would. However, as Nkosi became more vexed, Nubia cut through his temper with calm words*

Nubia: Good. Remember, be elegant, strong, yet graceful. You are doing well. Watch your footing - it is a dance, remember?

*The Pharaoh looked on with interest at the retainer’s graceful movement, and mentally compared it to the earnest attempt at mimicry from his young brother. For his age, it was very good, though he would have been shocked if Nkosi could fully mimic the refined movement of Nubia, who whom was older and more experienced warrior. Still, credit where credit was due, Nkosi, should he continue on the path inspired by Nubia, would one day himself rival her skill. Though, not yet, not yet.

Finally, the impromptu exhibition ended and the boy fought to catch his breath, while Nubia stood tall, not even winded. Graceful as the deadly movements of before, she bowed once more, to her opponent and to the Pharaoh, taking her place behind the boy as he ran to the Pharaoh’s side, clutching at his robes, eyes wide with excitement even while his cheeks still flushed from his efforts*

Nkosi: Did you see that, Brother Pharaoh? I’m strong now! So only I can protect you!

*Endeared by the determination of the small child, the young Pharaoh could barely contain his smile as he pressed his lips to the boy’s forehead. The momentary affection seeming to act as a balm, calming his brother somewhat, more so as the Pharaoh lifted the child into his arms and settled Nkosi at his knee.*

Pharaoh: My strong protector. What would I do without you?

Nkosi: Be eaten by the three snakes behind me?

Candidate 2: Seriously, how did we go from harpies to snakes?

Nkosi: Want to be a camel? A scorpion?

Candidate 1: *Annoyed, deadpan* Never mind...forget I said anything.

Candidate 2: You are fighting with a child, prince or not. Seriously, now, that’s just sad.

Candidate 3: *Giggle, clapping* Snake it is! Yay!

*Roaring laughter broke from the men-turned-audience. Finally, one of the men stood and bowed grandly, before approaching, addressing their king*

Councilman 1: Lord Pharaoh, forgive my interruption of this entertainment. However, I must ask: have you chosen a bride from the candidates?

*The humour quickly faded from the young Pharaoh’s face, a sigh escaping his lips as he leaned back against the throne. In his lap, Nkosi looked up at his brother, worry tweaking at his features before hardening. Without warning, he stood atop the throne beside the ‘living god’s’ lap to gain that much extra height, pointing at the candidates. Taking a deep breath, he called out in a voice as commanding as a six-year-old’s could be*

Nkosi: My Pharaoh Brother will never marry these three!

Councilman 1: If not these three, then who?

*That was something of a good point, though...as he looked around to his brother, it seemed the Pharaoh was just as disinterested in the topic as the child was annoyed by the constant proposal of him taking a wide. Standing tall, chin raised, the boy cried out*

Nkosi: Beloved brother! My Pharaoh! I, Nkosi the first, shall never allow these women to be your great bride! Nor will I allow harm to come to you! The woman you will marry shall be one I, the great and noble Nkosi, will deem worthy of you! I swear it!

Candidate 1: By the gods, the little brat is at it again.

Nkosi: Silence, heathen! I will go on a journey to find My Lord Brother the perfect wife! She should be brave, kind, strong and smart like my brother! She should be beautiful, caring and just - that is the wife I will look for, for the sake of our kingdom! Know this, brother: everything I do is for you!

*Nubia glanced at the Pharaoh to gauge his reaction, but paused as the Pharaoh mouthed something to her, before finally, he addressed the crowd.*

Pharaoh: There you have it, councilman. Prince Nkosi has spoken *To Nkosi* Then, brother, you have until the harvest to produce me this promised bride. May the gods bless you on your travels. Though I ask of you that you would allow your servant to accompany you. However, until this week has passed…

*The young man tickled the child, giving him affectionate pecks on the forehead and cheeks*

Pharaoh: ...You shall be with me, receiving the affection of you elder brother. Does this sund fair, my brave Majai?

*The boy caught his breath, trying to regain his composure despite the giggles breaking from his lips*

Nkosi: This is adequate. If it pleases Pharaoh, then let it be so.

*The young prince hopped from the throne, leaning in to embrace the Pharaoh in one final hug before rushing over to Nubia, tugging her away in order to prepare for his self proclaimed ‘mission’. The Pharaoh watched, resting his chin on his fist, a grin painting his lips*

Pharaoh: This should be interesting.

[END]

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