The Curse of the Sands (Part 3)

Zii stood out on the balcony of Gadget’s second twin spire, how could the Detch’kage be ended? In all the years of his service to the hidden order he didn’t fathom that it could happen. A woman walked up beside Zii leaning over the balcony with his head hanging down.

“Itoga Zii...” she said quietly, as she slid up next to him. “ I heard about the house.”

“What about it?” He said heartlessly, he was sick of hearing about that damned house.

“I’m sorry, I know you didn’t do it, you wouldn’t have done it. But I know this is what’s destroying the Detch’kage.” She answered solemnly.

“What happened Syri...What happened in that house? No one will tell me, and I still don’t know...” His every word getting quieter. Syri looked at him with a sad look on her face and said,
“Zii..You-..You murdered your sister.” Zii took a long breath and let it go without exasperation.

“It’s been so long, so many people haven’t told me, all because they think it’s for the better...”

Amerie sat quiet, and motionless in the lower deck of the cargo hold. The boat rocking silently, the people above her going about their happy business. Her thoughts reached out to her dreams, it was happening all over again.
The house was silent, dark, and cold. The desert wind was blowing gently on the house, but staying quiet all the while. She sat in one of the armchairs reading her book silently, her brother in the upper story, playing with his knives again she guessed. The lantern next to her went out again for at least the fifth time tonight. She reached out for her flint and attempted to light the lantern again. Four tries later and it lit up the entire room. Her brother standing in front of her, holding his red-dagger. “Er..Hello again brother.” She regarded him. He stood silently staring into her eyes, a smile formed on his lips as he struck down and grabbed her by the hair and pulled her head sideways. His dagger was faster than her hand and was in her neck before she could reach out and stop him. Blood shot from her neck onto the wall. She started to scream but he twisted the dagger sideways and pulled it further up her neck. Silenced. She fell to the floor with a thud, as the wood cracked beneath her. Zii stepped over her body, knife and arm both covered in blood, and proceeded to the fireplace. He grabbed his pin and hammer off of the fireplace, sat down, and began to etch a dark red insignia on his blade. The rules of the Detch’kage enforced that you mark each kill on your blade in blood red, showing your kill.

Amerie came to with a shock as the boat seemed to rock more than before. Grabbing her sack she snuck up to the top deck, the boat violently jerking. Managing to sneak a peek outside one of the missing planks she saw the sky was dark, and the ocean was black. “Other side...” she thought as she proceeded further up. The boat rocked again, and threw her into the side of the boat. She reached the deck and saw no one out. “Something is wrong here...” she said out loud without even realizing it as a flash of orange shot off in the distance. The boat rocked once more and almost seemed to be sinking. It was then that she realized the boat was being shot at with precise aim, and the crew abandoned ship. The separate boats were gone along with the crew. Amerie said a prayer in her mind as she ran at full speed for the bow of the ship. The head of the maiden coming nearer, and in one final act of grace she set a foot atop the maiden’s head, spread her arms to her side and jumped so far, she looked as if she was flying. The water was cold but she didn’t feel it. Her skin was dead as was her nerve endings; if she could feel pain it’d be a miracle. She floated in the blackness, as her mind seemed to slow down. Her thoughts going nowhere but back to her dream, seeing her brother murder her. She couldn’t believe what she had seen but she knew it happened. She realized now what had happened. She was dead.

Zii looked to the west as he heard light pops that from far away sounded like nothing. He knew what they were though. The Steamwheedle pirates were firing on someone, and there was no doubt that it was an alliance ship. He ignored the minor threat and walked from the balcony back into the room. The silk curtains pushed aside as he entered the room, pillows scattered the room. His bed was large and draped, Syri sleeping peacefully within. His eyes closed as his thoughts moved to the dream, away still and back to the room. He slinked into the bed quietly as he lay beside Syri, his first rest in three days. He closed his eyes, restless, but finally slept as he felt the brush of lips on his cheek.

Cold and dark the ocean threw Amerie around as she made her way to the shore. She knew her limits now, and knew that they were almost endless. She was a Forsaken, and there was no turning back. The sand struck her hard as her body flung onto the shore. Crawling with slight fatigue she made her way up from the shore to the bay. The guards of the city rushed down to the shore and directly to her. Their lanterns bright and their spears long. She looked into one of the guard’s eyes; he was a dark and tall man with no hair. His clothes were that of a desert-native, and she knew she was in the right place.

“Get up, you alliance scum.” The man said, the other guards surrounding Amerie.

“Fool, the alliance wouldn’t have the strength to get to the shore with your army firing upon them, such as I.” She said as her eyes burst into a yellow glow once more.

“You damn Forsaken. You are lucky that you know your guise well, I would have killed you.”

“I’m already dead you idiot.” She replied with a fury, the fury that being a forsaken had brought her. “Leave me be.” She added as she stood to her feet, her sack wrapped tightly around her waist.

“Very well, but you’d do best to watch your back. There is nothing but desolation for you in this desert.”

Amerie, free of the guards and back in her armor, lay down on the hard roof of one of the bay-cities’ small shops. She needed some rest she figured. It couldn’t hurt and it would pass the time.

The sounds of the city floated up to the room as Zii rolled over in his bed and saw Syri still asleep, peaceful, and serene. How did he come to love one so powerful, so beautiful? Her black hair laid strewn across the pillow her head rested on, smooth and reflective, her small face, flawless and soft. He gently kissed her forehead as he stood from his bed, the sun not above the mountains of the dragon-keep. He stepped out once more to the balcony as he took in the morning air. The sounds of the city reaching him, and making more sense now. Listening with skill and precision he found words he strained for. “Forsaken... Boat sunk... Strange girl. Killed a guard...” Something had happened last night, he had a feeling, was tied to the firing of the cannons last night. His brow scrunched as he lost the words in the bustle of the city. He returned into the room to find Syri yawning and stretching out, she looked at him and smiled a warm smile. He smiled back,
“Good morning lady.” He spoke out to her.

“Itoga Zii. Did you sleep well?” His gaze turned to her eyes, green as the grass that he once used to play in, and glowing like no other eyes he had seen before.

“I slept well knowing you were by my side once more.” She laughed oh-so-softly with a smile that could have sailed a thousand ships.

“Ah, I love you Zii.” Her words warmed his body as his smile became meaningful.

“I love you more.” He replied, her smile remaining as she laid back down into the soft bed.

Zii had made his way down into the city streets, and let his eyes wander around. Syri had said she loved him, Syri, leader of the Detch’kage, loved him. Was this to be used for power? Or was this to be taken as one of life’s gifts? No matter the course, he was pleased. Walking down the alleyways the city seemed more alive, happier. Perhaps it was Syri’s words, or perhaps it was simply the day, but he moved with a light heart and a happy expression on his face. A young girl with skin as white as cream walked towards him, weapons sheathed to her. Though not uncommon, an odd sight to see was a girl so young. Her hair was long and black, flowing down her back, her eyes a strange yellow. She didn’t bother Zii’s mind or conscience as she moved closer. Their shoulders met and they bumped slightly. With the sound of a sheathe unlocking Zii had turned and had his dagger immediately parried with another one. He stood motionless with his dagger in the air, holding tight the blade of the young girl. Her face expressionless, and motionless as well. Zii knew she had killed before, and knew that this halt in his day would not end well. They both stood completely motionless as the onlookers backed away from them, afraid of getting hurt, but entranced at their concentration. Zii stared into the yellow eyes, their emotionless gaze meeting his. They twitched and without a millisecond’s delay she had moved her dagger to strike his leg, only to have it met by Zii’s dagger resting tightly upon it. Her eyes never moving from his, both of their faces expressionless. He slowly slid his dagger up, making the blades emit a sharp shrill whine. His dagger hand had shot out, of instinct to the girls neck, where her shoulder meets, but the girl had beat him to it once more, and laid her dagger on her neck, stopping his strike. His left hand now out in front of him, the girls met his just as hard. Hand against hand, blade against blade the onlookers gasped each time they moved. Zii’s hand pulsed upon hers. There it was, he knew what was wrong. This girl was dead. He had not seen a forsaken since he was the young, ripe age of eighty-three, and he didn’t want to meet one again. But here one was in front of him, dead and pressing her hand against his. He gazed into her eyes, using an ancient mind trick that he learned years ago in the Detch’kage, his eyes burst into a flaming green glow, as hers burned yellow almost simultaneously. She was not unknowing of the art. His dagger was sharp, twisted and decorated with only a few marks. Hers bore many marks, though in yellow. She was of a different clan; he could tell by her dagger, they must have done things differently there. Her dagger was simple, a small Katana it looked like. Yelling was heard in the difference as his eyes motioned to where the yelling had come from, her head nodding a “Yes”. The both turned at the same time the vindicators of the city has struck down on them with their spears. Both of the spears from each vindicator was blocked, and knocked to the side. The young girl shot the vindicators spear to the side, and kicked him in the chest, knocking him over. She pounced on top of his body and a wrist-spike protruded from under her dark armor. Jamming the guard in the neck she broke his spinal column, and hopped to her feet dagger in her left hand, wrist spike on the right. Zii caught the other vindicator’s spear in a notch in his dagger. Twisting the blade with immense strength and speed he severed the spear in half. Flicking his wrist the broken side of the spear flew out from the dagger, which was plunged into the stomach of the vindicator. The young girl’s fight hadn’t nearly ended as two more vindicators rushed at her. She jumped in time to avoid a spear aimed at her feet, kicking one vindicator in the head, and spiking the first in the eye. Her wrist blade retreated into it’s sheathe as her left hand shot out, her body bending backward, she sliced viciously and cut the second guard’s throat. Zii turned on his heel, to face the girl, but was interrupted by another spear that struck the ground next to his foot. He looked down and stomped on the spear head, turning on it and ran up the spear, leaping off of the guard’s head and landed on another guard, on his dagger. The guard screamed in pain as the first who attacked Zii swung the spear around blindly and missed him. Zii ducked under the spear, and kicked sideways at the guard’s feet, knocking him down. The guard wiped the sand out of his eyes in time to see Zii stand on his chest, and kick his head sideways. The young girl look around as if paranoid, looking for more enemies, Zii turned and saw no one behind him. Each turned to each other, and within a matter of a second were back at attacking each other. The young girl had speed that was almost unmatched, Zii thought to himself. Her movements were matched always though, every step she took, Zii took, and every blow she sought to strike was parried and matched. The young girl kicked sand with every step she took, Zii kicked just as much, keeping in time with her movements.

“You are a damn pest.”