A/N Hallo, i had some free time and i'll be off to Venice with my buddies soon. @Auzzie_ice helped with this chapter, which is why it has magically changed from my beloved past tense to her present tense. Whoosh!
Also, if someone has a cure to stop watching Hetalia, i would love to hear it because i'm becoming addicted. >_>
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‘’What on earth-‘’
‘’What is he doing?’’
‘’Oh Allah…’’
‘’Are they dead?’’
Malik sways in his sleep, or something close to sleep anyways. He is not aware of the soft light that has surrounded them, or the steady clop that sounds, and has sounded under his feet for the past however many hours-or days, or months. In the back of his mind, he can hear people commenting on dead bodies and weary horses and wonders why.
‘’Are they together?’’ another man chimes in with something regarding necrophilia. ‘’Allah will chasten sinners.’’ He mutters. This, for some odd reason, is what draws Malik back to reality. He realises, as he slowly sits up, that the air is cold. The next thing he notices is the crowds of civilians gathered by the road sides, staring in awe. He blinks blearily down at the horse, trotting solemnly through the dusty road and with horrible realisation at the body slumped before him. The boy looks worse now, in the full light of what he knows to be Jerusalem. His face is paler than any French Templar he has ever laid eyes on and his white robes have been dyed black with dried blood. No wonder he has attracted the attention of half the city, and to be wandering through a main road too. A feeling of urgency begins in his gut and ignoring the amazed stares being thrown his way, snaps the reins. The horse lurches forward. It may be tired from the tiresome journey or annoyed that its mane has now turned a dark shade of crimson.
Malik is tired beyond belief and has an aching body to work with. Having woken up so suddenly, he is irritable, yet somehow determined to reach to bureau. He is glad they’re now in Jerusalem and not still trotting through the shrubby desert.
He swerves away from the growing crowd and hastily makes his way into the alley that connects the makeshift stables to the bureau. There is no chance of leading the horse through the narrow backstreet roads, so he ties its reins to the pole by the shelter and gives it a gentle pat on its mottled neck. The poor beast looks just about ready to ascend to the heavens. The next part of the journey, though short, Malik knows is probably the hardest.
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The guards enjoyed lingering around the bureau. Most of the time, they didn’t do much harm, perhaps picking on the occasional novice that dropped by, but an assassin could never not be too wary. Especially since Malik was now dragging a half dead body, drained almost completely of blood down the road.
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YOU ARE READING
Somewhere Over the Rainbow
FanfictionFalling off the roof was essentially falling over the rainbow.
