Chapter VII

Knock, Knock, Knock.

The room's door opens for Sao and Akuma, both painting happiness in their expressions. The one who opens the door is Naaji.

'Hi, glad you made up your mind, not that the others gave you much of a choice. Come in, make yourself at home.'

'This is business Naaji, not a friendly get-together. Sao, Akuma, please take a seat.'

'Thank you for your hospitality, Naaji, Fajr.' Sao responds, Akuma staying silent behind a smile.

Fajr begins the discussions: 'The truth is that we are staging a rebellion.'

Akuma tightens his grip on the arm of the chair. Sao covers his lapse in façade.

'A rebellion, you say. What is it that you wish we do to aid in that?'

'Well, as a group, we have decided that it would be best for you, Sao, to look for weaknesses in their defence by being our spy in the castle. Report all information to Sabri, he'll be waiting by your room's window every night. Akuma, on the other hand, will be stationed by the single road leading to the palace. Your job is to track who enters and leaves the palace and report that information to Ihsan. You will also be the one who sets up the blockade on the day of the rebellion to prevent any outside interference. Is that understood?'

'Yes, ma'am. I can vouch for Akuma, he is a hard worker and won't let you down. Isn't that right?' Sao nudges Akuma's shoulder.

'Yeah, you can count on me.'

Fajr stands from her seat, with a bottle of wine in hand. 'Now, I do not expect any mistakes from anyone. This is a chance for our freedom. Now, the earlier we act, the better. Akuma, you are to head out straight away; Sao, I ask that you wait a bit longer and head out tomorrow. If you return to early those in the palace will get suspicious."

Standing by the single road, Akuma sits and waits. It is nearing noon; the sun remains ever present. Its heartfelt rays becoming harsher as the day draws nearer. Akuma takes shade under a graceful palm tree, stretching out its leaves for cover. The emerald of its leaves, the ripeness of its fruits, the cooling hug of its bark, the tree survived the blistering heat all its life; it knows suffering. The sand sleeps below Akuma's feet. Like a pillow, it is consoling to Akuma; its chill plays the part of a barrier, preventing Akuma from firing his natural weapon.

Sao enters the palace, nodding to the guards for access. He waits in the entrance, gazing at the art on the walls, until Alexander joins him from upstairs.

'So, I suppose your being here means they have started to take action.'

'That is right, sir. I'd say you have a week to complete your plan.'

'A week! is that all. Oh, the youth of today; us elders have no time to rest. Well, I have had plenty of time to anticipate this all. People are so furious when they don't have something that isn't theirs. All they want is gold. All I want is gold. Are we any different? We are just two side of the mirror arguing. Sao, I suppose you understand what I need you to do.'

'Yes, sir. I suppose I do. Before that I day, I would like to confirm that you know where to send the money.'

'Do not worry, Sao. I may be old in appearance, but I've kept my mind young. I have aged, of course; that is impossible to combat. But, Sao, I advise you to follow my words: never grow up.'

'I'll take your words to heart, sir. I bid you farewell.'

Sao starts his leave, but Alexander calls back to him, 'Oh, I almost forgot, Sao. Do not harm those people, no matter what. I will not forgive you if my resources are hampered.'

Sao nods, and disappears into the sun light.

A miniature earthquake is set off as a cart comes down from the palace. Its wheels shriek as they break in front of…

'Akuma, what are you doing out in the cold?'

Peering from the hole-window, Rose waves for Akuma. Her fair face is much more of a comforter than anything else nature could offer.

'Rose, please, allow me to apologize.'

'No, I have put that behind me, I do not hold any ill-manner towards you Akuma. I do not wish for you to apologize. All I want is for us to have one more dialogue before I take my leave for the ball.'

'You're leaving? For how long?'

'It could be a week or more, I cannot answer that. The thought of you still being here by the time I return is shrouded with doubt in my mind. However, I still wish to speak with you once more. Please, can we talk further in here, you must be freezing?'

Akuma agrees with haste.

Upon entering the cart, he is reminded of the palace's riches. It is a pearly white – like her dress –, a built-in chandelier trimmed with blood diamonds. Paintings are located at every angle, mostly of trees bearing bright fruit: apples, figs, and kumquats, dotted amongst the leaves. A single child, a girl, sits underneath them, sleeping on the grey fields.

'Akuma, I ask that you stop working for my father. I have seen what the people around us go through, I have always seen them. From my bedroom window, it is as if my father intentionally put them into view so I could look down upon them, to brainwash me. What he has done is cruel and an act against God. I do not wish harm upon my father, but I do wish for you to stop working under him. Please.'

'If that is how you feel, I will agree with your wish. I just want you to understand that you should be grateful for your situation, not repent yourself for being born into it.'

'The truth is that my father wishes to marry me away to a rich family up north in Gulhvitt. He wishes to improve his trade and become richer. My father is full of greed, he will keep the money for himself. Please, Akuma, help the poor, not my father nor me, we do not need it.'

'I will do as you ask. But in return, I ask you to not hate your father. Take what you can get.'

'I accept your request begrudgingly.'

Upon hearing this, Akuma storms out the cart, ebbing behind the tree. His face, out of view form Rose as the cart carries her away to a new life, masked by his left hand.

The cart rode past the horizon, leaving Akuma ill. His feverish disgust blew from his mouth in periodic screams.

'I'm sorry Rose, I can't keep all of my promises.'

A week passes. The sun hasn't left, evicting winter early this year. Akuma remains under the palm tree; he has been there all week, watching as scarce truck after scarce truck drives down the roads. Low on water, low on food, low on company, the heat punishing his lack of commitment to either party.

Rahat approaches Akuma holding a cup of water in her hand, passing it down to him and whispering into his ear:

'It's time.'

Rahat leaves, walking back to town, and a few minutes later, drink finished, Akuma walks follows.