Chapter VI

Whoosh.

Sao's vision returns to him. Man-made darkness taken away to reveal natural darkness. In front of him stands seven silhouettes. The central figure, a woman, takes a step out of the dark towards Sao. Sao does nothing; his hands and legs are tied to the wooden chair he is locked on, any attempts to resist would be pointless for now.

The woman has olive skin, palm bark hair, a body tuned to her song's emotions, eyes dyed in resent, black cloak, black gloves, unarmed. If free, Sao could escape without resistance.

She speaks with confidence and grit. 'What's your name, eavesdropper?'

'Nothing to you. That is unless we exchange details.'

'Fine, if you're going to be difficult…'

The crackling and murmuring of a hidden source prewarns a maelstrom that surges through Sao's body. Like a swarm of bees, each jolt neutralizes a nerve. Through intense pain, he now feels nothing.

'I'll ask again, what is your name?'

Sao turns to his shoulder, then whips it back, firing a spit ball at the interrogator's face. It collides with a splat and is retaliated with a zap as more storms pass their anger onto Sao. The process continues for an uncountable amount of time. For each second of awareness, Sao loses it through Zeus' wrath. One after another, and another, and another.

'I think he's had enough,' responds the silhouette on the far left. 'If this continues, he will never listen to us.'

A man steps out of the shadow and walks behind Sao. Various clicks reverberate the room. Maybe it's over. Sao's limbs stay drunk on electricity, unable to free themselves from their removed chains. The resolution of his eyes return, somewhat; it is only impressive to a blind man. With which, his belongings expose their trapped state behind one of the silhouettes.

'I apologize for what you have been through. In truth, we wish for your allegiance to switch. We know who you are working for, you're not the first,' the man behind him admits.

The man puts his fingers on Sao's neck. They bounce to the present heartbeat. 'Praise be to Ira.'

In unison, the others follow his words:

'Praise be to Ira.'

'Praise be to Ira.'

He continues his examination, moving from the neck to the palms, from the chest to the back to the thighs. Gloom spreads over the man's face,

'It's no good, he is an outsider. We'll have to dispose of him as we have the others. It is a shame. He looks to be the best pull we've had in mon-'

A door upstairs crashes open. Light's squadron breaks into the room, scaring off darkness' hordes. An even stronger shine blitz through the newfound light, its red tint and burning warmth barging past.

'If you touch Sao one more time, everything in this room can return to dust, including you,' the red shine growls.

The first person to stand before Sao, the woman responds with a winning tone.

'You, boy. What is your name? If you tell us that we can negotiate.'

'I will not negotiate with filth like you. If you're lucky I'll burn you quickly, it's less painful that way.'

'No, I understand you may not wish to negotiate with me, but you understand that I will gladly die as slow of a death as you can offer. I know that for my dream to succeed, I will have to suffer, as will you for yours. Tell me, what is your dream? Would you suffer for it? Would you even kill your friends, your family, your town, for that dream?'

'What do you know about my suffering?'

'What do you know about mine? Nothing! Nothing I tell you! You see me as evil, yet you do not know the definition of such. You call me filth; are you God? Are you my judge for the afterlife? Will you place your opinion over my facts just for your satisfaction? You are a child. You are naïve. What do you know of my suffering? What makes you assume everyone you believe is evil is evil to others? If I must be perceived as evil by some kid, who knows not of this world and the foundation of blood it is built upon, so I may find reason to my suffering, then I will. Now child, what is your name? What is your dream? What is your suffering?'

'Akuma,' Sao answers with desperation. 'All he wants is to see his parents, he has suffered enough. Let him go.'

'So, you are Akuma and Sao,' she says, pointing at Akuma, then drawing a line with her finger to Sao. 'Sao and Akuma. Well, I'm glad we have reached this point. All you need to know is that we wish for your cooperation. We propose that you become our spies and infiltrate that eyesore of a palace. If you do that, we will supply you with a sizable portion of its riches and offer this town as a safe place for you on your travels.'

Akuma's fists clench as he marches his way down towards the woman. 'We will never-'

'We accept,' Sao interrupts. 'We accept your conditions; now can I know your name?'

'That you may, since now you work for us. I am Fajr, it is the name I bestowed upon myself. I am the leader of this organisation, the Seven Heavenly Virtues. I am the virtue of humility. Now the rest will introduce themselves.'

The man, who examined Sao, clears his throat. 'My name is Asif, I once again apologize for the violence brought upon you, Sao.'

With a clearer mind, Sao gets a better look at Asif. He is a brawny man, well-toned and arms with a mountain range of muscles. He has a deep scar under his right eye, which is vein in colour, while his gold hair covers his left.

A second man stands out from the shadows. His hands are hidden underneath a large fur hooded coat, the arms of which are empty. 'Anas.' His body is much leaner, like a straw, and he covers most of his face with a baseball cap.

Next emerges a woman. 'Hi there, I'm Rahat. I look forward to working with the two of you. This is going to fun; I just know it.'

She looks around Hannah's age. Young compared to the rest of the group. Maybe her parents are among the ranks. She is slim, apart from her hamster cheeks.

'I'm Ihsan. Once you're ready, I'll give you your equipment and anything else you need if that's alright.'

He stands out like gold in a river. His clothes are not much worse than those living in the castle. A bright lucid tracksuit comforts his well-fed frame. Even when he smiles, his teeth glimmer while the others survive with their teeth rotting.

'Hiya, the name's Naaji, nice to meet you. I have a feeling we're going to get along.' Typical attire like the other men here, apart from Ihsan, ragged sandbag-clothes; he doesn't stand out.

'Oh yeah, this guy in the corner who's not speaking is Sabri, he doesn't talk much so just don't jump when he does.' Sabri stays in the shadows. He keeps himself hidden, his appearance and his voice are kept locked away.

Asif walks over to Sao and helps him up from the prickly wooden chair. 'If it is ok with you two, do you mind if we move back to our usual meeting place. You two can travel at your own pace, but I can't guarantee that someone won't be watching you. When you are ready, join us back at the inn. Take your time, we'll wait.'

Sao and Akuma are left alone in the room. Akuma attempts to hold his frustration in his head with his hands, but the emotions just slip through the barrier.

'Why are we working with people like that? Aren't we betraying our customer? Come on Sao, don't just sit there all glum, we need to do something about this.'

'No. No we don't. Either way, we get paid, it's just that this way you aren't in any danger.'

'Not in any danger?! I may be a kid, I may barely be able to control what little power I do have, but I can take care of myself. Also, what do you mean 'Either way we get paid'? Isn't that the mindset we're trying to destroy? You said that all the wealthy care about is money, but now you are using money as a deciding factor. What's the difference between what we're doing and what our enemy is doing?'

'Listen, Akuma. As Fajr said, you're just a child. There are things you can only understand through experience. This is one of those-'

'Now you're listening to Fabir, or whatever her name is. I saw what they had attached to you, I heard what they said; they were trying to kill-'

'I know what they were trying to do. All I said is that we will work for Fajr for now. I never said anything about what happens afterwards. I may not have been in any danger myself, but I have a bad habit of holding grudges. Now let's play their game for a little while, who knows, you might just learn something.'