This was written for school, and honestly? It's one of the only schoolwork-pieces I'm proud of so far XP I was given three pictures to write a story from (plus I had to add dressups and everything) which I'll post below. Any title-suggestions would be very welcome! X) The pictures were not drawn by me, and I googled some Arab lingo, so please let me know if I used it wrong! :)
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Aziz tore through the city-gates like a demon, robes billowing uncontrollably. Shouts of rage and scornful names followed in his wake, and a stab of pain pierced his heart. They hated him now, the people he had once called friends. They hated him because Murad, outraged at Aziz's refusal to accept bribery, had accused him of treason against Lady Asma herself.
Now he was running for his life - which really wasn't fair.
Rasping grasses snatched grimly at his robes as he ran, as if determined to drag him back, and their sharp stalks jabbed viciously at his bare feet.
Suddenly, a sharp command rang out, and Aziz's heart dropped to his toes as he recognised the voice of the garrison commander. "Ready, men! Aim... and fire!"
Behind him, following close on his heels, came the shrill whine of flying projectiles.
A terrified shriek burst from Aziz's throat, and he flung himself to the ground as if dead. The earthy flavour of dirt coated his tongue, but he could not allow himself to move. His lungs yearned to draw breath, but he could not breathe. The soldiers laughed amongst themselves at his supposed demise, seeming distracted for the moment, but he could - not - move.
"I shall go'n make sure the dog really is dead." A gruff voice grabbed his attention, and the cold ice of fear wound like frigid chains around his heart.
The eerie wail of a sword sliding easily from its scabbard rent the air, and Aziz leapt to his feet once more - and then he was running again, with furious shouts following once more - and he was pulling away! - and his flapping robe wound around his legs, unbalancing him and launching him over the edge of a hidden cliff before he could blink.
* * *
Slowly Aziz came to himself, vaguely aware of a wide cave-mouth before him. He lay motionless for a moment or two, barely conscious; wondering why his body hurt - then, with a terrifying jolt, he remembered the soldiers. Trembling, he painfully forced himself upright.
He didn't know where he was - didn't know where his pursuers were - couldn't understand how he had survived - didn't know how he would continue to survive. With a strangle groan, Aziz buried his face in his hands.
'What am I going to do?
'Alsayha!' He leapt suddenly to his feet, ignoring the messages of aching pain his body sent him. 'Maybe the cave can help!'
He cautiously advanced on the dark opening, straining his eyes to see... anything, really. The interior was dark as pitch, and a niggle of doubt squirmed in his gut. Should he? Could he dare?
"Come, come! 'E went over 'ere, this way! 'Urry!" the same rough voice that had tried to kill him rang out from above,and Aziz dared not hesitate longer - he dashed inside the cave's forbidding maw.
* * *
Darkness clouded his eyes, filled his nose with the dull stench of decay, and lay thick on his tongue like a layer of dust. Shuddering, Aziz sank helplessly to his knees. He couldn't force himself forward - not yet. He was alone. Trapped in the dark. Afraid.
Sudden, urgent calls, too close for comfort, sent Aziz scrambling deeper into the enveloping darkness of the cave - and his breath caught like a stone in his throat as the wind's ever-present melody suddenly ceased.
Ahead, a gleam of light broke the darkness. Frantically he stumbled forward, desperate for relief from the stifling dark, and stumbled into a stone pedestal. Atop it sat a golden lamp, glowing like a spark of hope in the dark. With a strangled sob of relief, Aziz snatched the ornament to his chest and clutched it close, breathing a prayer of thanks to the gods.
'I can see - I can see - I can see.' He took a deep, shuddering breath to calm himself; tried to calm his leaping heart. 'I can see, it's all right - perhaps I can even sell this after I escape, and have a source of income. Because I will escape. It's all right, it's going to be all right - but oh, how I wish I could return home and convince them of the truth!"
A brilliant light burst from the lamp-spout, and Aziz dropped it with a shriek of alarm. He stumbled backwards, crashing into a wall, and watched, panting with terror as golden smoke poured from the spout. The cave was filled with an eerie gold radiance, and Aziz blinked in alarm as shifting wraiths wound in the smog.
He saw himself exit the cave, lamp in hand. He saw the soldiers charging around the hill toward him, swords drawn; their weapons gleamed wickedly, and he knew that all were prepared to kill. He felt, more than heard, himself yelling, and immediately, golden smoke began pouring from the shining apparition. In it played yet another scene: Murad confronting him; Murad attempting to bribe him; Murad growing angry at Aziz's refusal; Murad falsely accusing him of treason.
With a dull sucking sound, all smog hurtled back inside the bottle as if chased by a demon, and Aziz dropped to his knees. He blinked dazedly, trying to calm the shivers that racked his body. He knew what to do.
Stumbling to his feet, Aziz staggered from the cave and out into the open air. He didn't let himself think.
"Ahoy!" he screamed with all his might, waving the lamp above his head like a beacon."OI! Over here! Aziz! I'm over here!!"
"Get 'im, boys," a voice growled from atop the cliff, and Aziz sucked in a shuddery breath. He balanced precariously on one leg, then hopped to the other. If this didn't work - if he could only activate the lamp once - if he was too slow - if -
As the first soldier came tearing toward him, Aziz raised the lamp high above his head and screamed, screamed at the top of his lungs - "I wish they knew the truth!"
The warriors ground to a sudden halt and watched, stunned, as smoke billowed forth from the lamp-spout. Golden radiance filled the air, and Aziz could just barely make out the vague shape of the nearest man. He stood, lamp held high, not daring to move, as his voice and Murad's vibrated through the air.
It had worked! And the soldiers would believe it, too; it wasn't in his people's nature to disbelieve obvious magic. The truth would be revealed, and Murad would be imprisoned for his treachery.
He would be a normal citizen once more. He was free.
Aziz dropped to his knees, tears of fear,relief, pain, joy, anger, wonder, trickling down his face; he would rememberthis moment - the light as it freed him, protected him, dazzled him, infusedevery sense with amazement - forever.
