Chapter 4. Crypts of Bane

I brush off a spider from my hand, clearing cobwebs from my fingers as my horse halts. I shake my head in disapproval of the familiar taste in my mouth. Black dust from the sand beneath has somehow found its way into my mouth, leaving a taste of ash on my tongue.

Looking around, dry forests surround me— mainly tall trees, thorns, tare, and wilted grasses. However, a vast temple stands tall on the horizon, almost kissing the sky—the Crypts of Bane, the hell where innocent children are turned into monstrous killers. Around it are paltry stone-walled habitations where the Priests of Asure keep and torture kids with hunger, thirst, and violence until they become something they were never meant to be—destroyers of flesh.

Faded sounds of screaming voices hang in the air, triggering my curiosity. Usually, the Crypts of Bane is a quiet place, as her stone walls have been built to swallow echoes and screams within it, but today is different, and shouts are heard from it. Why? I blink severally in an attempt to clear the blur in my vision conceivably induced by pallets of dust in the air. After this, I squint as the image of numerous dark-skinned, bare-chest soldiers becomes apparent, like black ants running around the expanse in stylish white skirts and bronze helmets.

I see them dragging innocent children on the floor, man-handling our priestesses who cannot defend themselves, and slaughtering the male servants and aids who cannot fight but attempt to defend themselves and the Crypts.

“My goodness!” I shake my head in disapproval, righteous rage brewing inside me.

“Only one army wears pleated skirts to battle. Those imbeciles,” Karen spits out, then turns to me with sunken eyes— a depiction of her fury. “Egyptians!” She growls. “I wonder why they decided to go down this road.”

I scratch my head, pondering a possible explanation for this melee because, for decades, Egypt had been our strongest ally. So, what could have got them so bitter that they would target our sacred place — our women and children? “It seems the whole world has turned on Assyria for reasons best known to them. For one, I know we did no wrong to Egypt, only Babylon.”

“No wrong, you say?” Karen snaps. “The subjugation, killing, amassing of tributes even if it kills an entire nation’s economy… What are you even saying, Razal? The other nations are insignificant?”

“I mean, it’s been a norm for over a century until the recent Babylonian revolt. Now, everyone wants to fight back or what?”

“But I told you, Razal, didn’t I? That one day, the nations were going to have enough of this brutality and rebel massively!” Her words ring a bell in my head. She’s been saying this for ages. Maybe it is finally happening.

Even if you are right, Karen, this remains unjust.”

“How?”

I point at the scene. “Does this look like a mere revolt to you? This is obliteration! They are wiping us out!”

“What did you expect? You saw the pain we caused governments, tribes, countries, the bloodshed...”

“So what? Does it justify the murder of innocent women and children?” I shoot back, and she goes mute instantly. Her face is void of expression. I have always known that she has an agitation towards Assyria, but she is not like us. We are brutal Assyrians. She is built differently; she is very compassionate. And although she hates showing it, it remains apparent to me. Perhaps because we’re so close.

“We have a task, Razal.” She lets out after about a minute of silence. Then, she hides her face beneath her hooded cape, a sickle-shaped blade glinting in her hand.

Flapping the bridles of her horse, she charges toward the violence, and I follow suit, my horse neighing and galloping behind hers. As her body becomes one with the charging horse, I find it difficult to take my eyes off her.

Beautiful Hebrew! Being Neem suits her, unlike me, who doesn’t even have gray eyes. My thoughts wander off. The delicate curves of her body make it difficult for anyone to see her as a threat, the sleekness of her skin enough to bring men to their knees. Especially me.

I force myself back to reality, covering my hair with my hoodie as we draw closer to the scene. At the sight of the dusty chaos, my pulse begins to race, and my tongue suddenly dries up. A tiny voice in my head whispers to me, urging me not to be a coward, that maybe I will not die in vain, and this battle might mold me into a legend. What a joke! I only force myself to focus on the good deed— rescuing an innocent Neem Prince from this barbarity and savagery.

My impulses are suspended when a spear emerges from the chaos and pierces the neck of my horse. Down I go, tumbling roughly onto black dust without a sword in my hand! A pungent smell erodes my throat, and several hearty coughs push out of my mouth resultantly. Some hazy sheath blurs my vision, and through the cloudy sight, a dark figure emerges, lunging towards me with a javelin.

I put in an attempt to stand, but my body fails me. His spear vigorously thrusts at me, but somehow, I manage to grip it by the stalk just before its pointed tip reaches me. I reverse his energy by dragging it toward myself and hitting the wooden stalk as hard as I can with my elbow. It breaks, sending the Egyptian plummeting onto me. I promptly reverse the direction of the tip, allowing it to sink into his throat as he falls on it.

The warm sensation of blood splattering all over my face is partially relieving. At least it shows I’m still alive! I shove his body away, staggering to my feet while gasping for air. I can taste his blood in my mouth, and it irks me badly. I bend over and begin to throw up vigorously as if my intestines would spill out of my mouth.

This is my first taste of war, a perfect disaster, far from what was taught in the Crypts of Bane about glory and honor. Bullshit!

As the intense contractions of my abdomen cease, my gaze quickly scans the chaos for Karen, and the world swirls in my eyes. Some momentary sadness grips me, and my eyes grow smart with tears, for I have finally become it. An Assyrian animal!

While all these things torment me, two more soldiers burst out of the black clouds, swinging their blades at me. Karen is still nowhere to be found!

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