When my skin is not my own and the heart is tainted, there is still one thing that will always belong to me. My soul! No more shall it weep in the darkest of nights but it shall become a beacon of light for all those who cannot see. I am a warrior...
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(click, click, clang)
One of Laham's men opened the door to the kings layer with a distressed expression plastered on his old sunken face. His nostrils flared and his mouth was slightly open, his forehead wrinkles coming down to lay over his eyebrows like the hood on eyes.
"Master... The Boblas... They couldn't give you your power bath" he stuttered as he watched the kings face turn in dismay. Laham's whole body began to shake, his clenched fists ready to puncture through anything that was in his way like a bulldozer. The king had used the power baths weekly as a mean to optain the mightiness he had. Rituals with young female blood were used to bathe Laham for he believed with the power of the spirits the blood would seep into his pores and give him exactly what he desired.
"WHAT DO YOU MEAN?" Laham roared as fumes erupted from his head as if he had an internal flame.
"They seem to... Umm... They seem to have been stopped by some... Some warrior" Laham hid his face in his slimy long fingers as he shook his head. His jewels and gold hitting against each other making a loud continuous clanging.
"No! No! No! No! This can't be! My youth! My power! It will all disappear! Go to the Boblas now! And find out who did this?!" Laham ordered. The servant rushed away to find an answer that even the Boblas didn't have an answer to.
Igazu slowly pulled the shoulders of her shirt down as she groaned in agony. "Tsssssk ahhh" she moaned, the Bobla had gripped the petite Armala so tightly that he had punctured her skin with his dirty untrimmed nails like a vulture. The bruised maiden applied some ointment that she had made onto the area, shutting her eyes tightly to endure the pain.
"That's quite a deep wound" Senescent sighed from behind as he came up to Igazu. She quickly put her blouse back up to cover her skin. Senescent approached the table she was sitting at and placed a cup of hot herbal tea down circling the edges of the cup with his finger.
"You seem to have something on your mind" Igazu bespoke, knowing how Senescent wasn't the type to confide in others. The wounded Armala sat down at the edge of her bed as she watched Senescent stall like a rain filled cloud that refuses to let go.
"How are... We supposed to just... Stop?" He confided as he sloughed down on the bed besides her.
"She will protect us. But we have to stop Senescent. Do you think... Do you think Ayanna would be happy to see you doing all these things?" Igazu asked as she watched Senescent's face scrunch and soon after his eyes were filled with tears for his beloved wife that once use to sleep next to him.
"I hate my life" Senescent gasped as the memories of his Ayanna were playing movies of love in his mind. Igazu sat quietly before she looked up at him trying to hold the very same tears back.
"We all do" she said with a shivering quiver like that of crusty autumn leaves.
"Ayanna was like an elegant swan that would pace my waters with her delicate feathers. I always feared that whenever she ran her fingers through my hair she would lose her soft touch. I should've... Protected my Ayanna" Senescent cried with a heavy chesty cough. The young widower got married as soon as his eyes fell on Ayanna. She was so delicate and small with a type of love Senescent longed for. Yet, now all she was, was just a memory in the past.
