Someone must go, but who?
Through the many chattering voices, suddenly one echoed throughout the whole catacombs.
" Philomel! Philomel should go! She is the bringer of the bad news! The scavenge that lurks, hidden in the shadows of the light city, and steals food from the light elves! Right from under their noses! She is the perfect candidate! She should go and steal the baby from its crib!"
That sole sudden voice of reason came from no other than, Asclepius. As soon as all tribe members heard her name, their gaze turned to her. Philomel's eyes widened in shock as she stared back at the whole tribe. Slowly her shock turned into anger as she narrowed her eyes at Asclepius.
"That lousy! No good!! ***** of a ****!! How dare he shoves this death sentence upon me!! Just because I refused an impossible request?? Stealing was one thing but from the High Priestess?! For a half-baked plan that would have gotten us all killed?!! "
Philomel mentally screamed to herself as her hands fisted, her nails dug so deep and hard within her palm, that they could draw blood. Philomel was a young maiden of dignity, even though, she was technically a thief. She always kept to her code. Her principles of life were taught to her by her respected Commander. The very same principles that the infuriating Asclepius disrespects at every chance he got. Oh, how she despised him but since he was a brute warrior and not to mention the chief's son. He could overpower her in many ways...
Just like this one...
The crowd soon started gathering around Philomel, chanting her name as a way of telling the elders and the chief, who they have chose for this mission. Bit by bit the villagers corner her, toward the exit of the catacombs.
All Philomel could do was grit her teeth as she picked up her satchel. Her face scrunched up into a scowl as she did all she could... And that was to glare at Asclepius, as she turn her head toward the exit. She caught a glimpse of her mother and father huddled together in a distant corner. Her father holding her mother as she sobs between her hands.
Her mother even though, she couldn't see anything through teary eyes, still did her best to look at Philomel knowing this might be the last time her baby girl. Her father stare at her with watery eyes, wishing he could solve it by using his inner demon. Just like he did so early that day but even he knew that it was hopeless. He couldn't do anything against the vote of the entire tribe.
"If only..... please give me a way...."
Anubis begging within his heart, for some idea to save his daughter, from this death sentence of a mission. Nothing came, it was at that moment, that he felt... fear and hopelessness. Something he never felt in years and it made him angry at himself, for being so useless right now.
Philomel's heart twisted in agonizing sorrow as she stare at her parents. Taking in every last detail of them, remembering this moment.
Her heart said her farewells, hoping that her parents, would somehow hear the unspoken words from her heart. From the corner of her eyes, she noticed Asclepius smirking at her.
Anger melts into tormenting reality, Asclepius was the cause of the mission falling to her, her parent's sorrow... The reason this might be the last she would ever see her parents and there was nothing she could do about it. Tears burn her eyes as she turns away from her parents... from it all. Adjusting the satchel over her shoulder she heads out.
One step at a time, she drags her feet. Ripping throughout the tunnel, the many voices joined as one chanting her name. The calls of her own people rang in her ears and echo throughout the walls. Each wave of chanting sounds, bounce right back at her, making her want to run and scream but then ... An invisible force was holding her back, this would be the last time her parents see her. How could she rob this moment from them? They were already broken.
Each step she took, she took painfully slow. Wanting her parents to remember her even if it was just her back. With each step, the roars of the crowd dim more and more.
Until she finally reached a point where it was nothing more than incoherent mumbles in the distance. She could now hear her thoughts... The thoughts that reminded her, that she was leaving all because she didn't steal for Asclepius. The anger once again came, she slam her clenched fist against the tunnel cursing his name as she took it out on the wall. Angry at him, at herself for not being able to do anything. She could do nothing but watch her parents sob. Frustrated at herself she screamed her name as if she was one with the crowd. Shoving the mission onto someone randomly. Wanting to pretend that it wasn't her name they were screaming. The tears finally roll down her cheeks as she uses both her arms, smashing them against the wall.
" PHILOMEL!!!!!! *SOBS*"
Her knees gave way as she made her slow descent to the ground. Crying into her arms just like her mother, hoping that would bring her some comfort. Her cries echo throughout the tunnel but due to the overwhelming cheers from the main catacomb, no one heard her screams, her fears, her sorrow.
After sobbing for what seems like hours, (when it was probably just 10 minutes) She finally finds the strength to at least stand. With one hand on the cave wall, she slowly stood up, on slightly cramped legs, and slowly wobble her way out of the tunnel. The whole way, her hand dragged across that tunnel's wall. Sniffing as she wipes her tears away with her other hand.
" The hell happened to you?"
A voice suddenly questioned, and her gaze snaps upwards. Outside, standing in the desert, in his white shirt and brown pants. The only item of true color on him was the 5th generation flag of Crimtroy, folded to a thin strip that he used as a belt. Amon was covered in sand from head to toe. With a spear in one hand and a small dead desert jackrabbit in the other. He watched her silently with worried eyes.
Philomel, stood there stunned for a moment as she studied him from head to toe. It was obvious that Amon had just come back from his patrol and was completely oblivious to what had just happened to her. Heck, he probably doesn't even know about the Messiah. Philomel couldn't help but leap with joy, just at the sight of him. Two people along any quest, bring a better chance of survival than just one!
Happiness filled her heart, at the sight of the clueless Amon as tears of joy stung her eyes. Now knowing, that she doesn't have to go through this alone. She leaps into his arms sobbing happily.
Amon drops his jackrabbit and spear in shock at the sudden girl clinging to his chest and sobbing into his sandy shirt.
" Hey.. hey ... What happened?"
He soothingly asks in a soft gentle tone as he wraps his arms around her, rubbing her back trying to comfort her. He could feel the wetness of her tears through his shirt and started feeling scared for her as he wondered, what terrible thing happened.
" Among! It was so horrid! That jerk Asclepius has shoved an impossible task to me! He wants me to kill a horrific beast that is a huge threat to the tribe, alone! Knowing this beast! I know..... I know I'm not strong enough!!"
Philomel cried to him, her words filled with a twisted version of the truth since she knew that sneaking into the bedroom of the Messiah was no easy task, and killing the baby?? An actual innocent elf baby?? That was a whole different story!
Amon calmly listen to her outburst between her sobs, and couldn't help but pity Philomel even though he didn't really know her. All they did was exchange words of 'Morning' and 'Welcome back'. For Amon was the guardian of the tribe's entrance or that's what he likes to call himself. Since it was a self-appointed task.
Amon lost his father in an orc raid. His father actually almost made it back home, just half a mile away but since he was badly injured and weak..... The orc managed to get him. If only there was someone at the cave entrance at the time... His father might not have met his demise that day. Ever since Amon has made it his life duty to guard the entrance of the cave. Not wanting the same fate to befall on anyone else.
He has stayed at that entrance ever since and has been watching Philomel's coming and going, long before she even took on the duty of a scavenger. In fact, he watched the coming and going of every tribe member. Unfortunately, only 6 others including Philomel and her family were the only people kind enough to return the greetings of an orphan.
Some people in their tribe would even consider Amon as an outsider. For he never involves himself in anything, other than standing guard at that entrance. Even though, the tribe had declared that an entrance guard isn't needed. At the sign of the slightest threat, hundreds of dark elves were just seconds away from storming out to face, any threat against their tribe. And those who aren't strong enough to make it back alive to warn the tribe, deserve to die. There is no place for the weak in the Dark Elf tribe. Those with demon blood in their veins must be strong.
"What's the point of even making a deal with the devils to have it, if you're still weak?"
This was a question that Chief Bloodfist asked Amon, during Amon's attempt to convince the Chief. Even after Amon, delivered his suggestion and reasons for an entrance guard in a very realistic detailed speech. A flawless delivery of a well-planned strategy that would have worked on anyone else. Unfortunately, Chief Bloodfist had a heart of stone and only held respect for the strong.
" Those with demon blood in their veins are strong. If not... What's the point of making a deal to have it?"
Amon softly repeated the motto of their tribe to Philomel, reminding her what flows in her veins and that she is a strong dark elf through and through.
Philomel hearing these words, knew that she would have to be cunning if she wanted to recruit Amon's help. She knew it was wrong of her to do so but... she feared facing such an impossible task alone. Knowing the past of Amon's father's death, she wreaks her mind trying to use that to her advance.
" Among... "
She made her voice trembles as she calls out to him.
" Dark blood flows within your father's veins. Didn't demise befall him when he faces the odds of 5 orcs?"
She questioned him softly as she held onto Amon. Amon's mind warped, shivering in terror and trauma as he recall the fate that had befallen his father. The crippling agonizing sorrow, that Amon had to pull himself out of when he saw the lifeless body. The beloved body of his father was ripped to shreds, laying in a pool of blood. Vultures picked and fed on a terror-froze expression of his father. How he wanted to scream but the sight and smell made him puke before he could.
Amon with memories freshly burnt in his mind, now looked down at Philomel. The image of his father's face changes into Philomel's face. The very same terror froze on her half-eaten face. Suddenly her lifeless eyes, turn to look at him as her mouth moved " Help me."
Amon jolted back to reality out of fear as he shook his head trying to forget that memory. He remind himself that Philomel was right there before him. He closed his eyes, focusing on her beating heart against his chest.
"She is alive and well, here in my arms"
Amon repeated to himself, trying not to think anymore, about what could happen. But if it did..... Would his presence be able to change it? Could he really save Philomel just by standing guard at that entrance?
No! He will not take any chances!
" Philomel, take me with you and we shall fight the odds together."
The words pass his lips with much confidence. He won't stand by and watch another die! He steps away from Philomel, picking up his spear and rabbit.
" Among... But the elders..."
She said in a trailing tone, wanting to warn him but no matter how hard she tried, the truth didn't pass her lips.
" It doesn't matter."
Amon reassures, nodding toward her, silently telling her to lead the way.
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