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Amarissa smiled as Arela recognized her and mentioned that she and her family were visiting for a meeting of the head families. Her explanation was interrupted by the young girl protesting that they were friends and NOT related. "Oh..I see" Amarissa smiled and glanced at Arela with the type of look older girls share when they know one is obviously catering too and looking out for a younger one.
Just as more introductions were about to happen, a group of very rude boys crashed through the small circle of girls for no good reason and scampered off so quickly they didn't even apologize. Amarissa recognized one of them as Amiti of Tzephaniah and glared after them as she moved to help Mazel back up after she'd tripped upon being jostled by the boys. "Hey! You could at least apologize!" she called after them, though they were obviously too far away to hear. Self absorbed and rude to boot. Who needed men anyway. Boys were gross.
"You okay?" she asked Mazel gently, frowning again as the servant nodded but didn't speak in the presence of the other girls. Mazel truly was an odd one. Amarissa was turning to check on the others when she heard the young girl's tearful tone. She looked over, her eyes widening as she saw the toy's leg clearly broken. "Oh, oh no." she said quickly and glancing at Arela as the young woman said she didn't know what to do.
Quickly kneeling next to the younger girl, Amarissa sidled up to her and offered her hand. "May I see it?" she asked gently. "I'm sure we can fix it" she said with confidence. As the merchant protested the broken toy, Amarissa answered at exactly the same time as Arela. "Of course!" though there was a bit more a protective growl in her voice. "Here." she said once more in a soft tone and gave her coin purse to Mazel. "Pay the man please Mazel" she directed and turned her attention back to the girl.
"It wasn't your fault." she tried to comfort her and put a gentle hand on her back. "Those boys were very rude. They should have been more careful" she assured the girl.
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Amarissa smiled as Arela recognized her and mentioned that she and her family were visiting for a meeting of the head families. Her explanation was interrupted by the young girl protesting that they were friends and NOT related. "Oh..I see" Amarissa smiled and glanced at Arela with the type of look older girls share when they know one is obviously catering too and looking out for a younger one.
Just as more introductions were about to happen, a group of very rude boys crashed through the small circle of girls for no good reason and scampered off so quickly they didn't even apologize. Amarissa recognized one of them as Amiti of Tzephaniah and glared after them as she moved to help Mazel back up after she'd tripped upon being jostled by the boys. "Hey! You could at least apologize!" she called after them, though they were obviously too far away to hear. Self absorbed and rude to boot. Who needed men anyway. Boys were gross.
"You okay?" she asked Mazel gently, frowning again as the servant nodded but didn't speak in the presence of the other girls. Mazel truly was an odd one. Amarissa was turning to check on the others when she heard the young girl's tearful tone. She looked over, her eyes widening as she saw the toy's leg clearly broken. "Oh, oh no." she said quickly and glancing at Arela as the young woman said she didn't know what to do.
Quickly kneeling next to the younger girl, Amarissa sidled up to her and offered her hand. "May I see it?" she asked gently. "I'm sure we can fix it" she said with confidence. As the merchant protested the broken toy, Amarissa answered at exactly the same time as Arela. "Of course!" though there was a bit more a protective growl in her voice. "Here." she said once more in a soft tone and gave her coin purse to Mazel. "Pay the man please Mazel" she directed and turned her attention back to the girl.
"It wasn't your fault." she tried to comfort her and put a gentle hand on her back. "Those boys were very rude. They should have been more careful" she assured the girl.
Amarissa smiled as Arela recognized her and mentioned that she and her family were visiting for a meeting of the head families. Her explanation was interrupted by the young girl protesting that they were friends and NOT related. "Oh..I see" Amarissa smiled and glanced at Arela with the type of look older girls share when they know one is obviously catering too and looking out for a younger one.
Just as more introductions were about to happen, a group of very rude boys crashed through the small circle of girls for no good reason and scampered off so quickly they didn't even apologize. Amarissa recognized one of them as Amiti of Tzephaniah and glared after them as she moved to help Mazel back up after she'd tripped upon being jostled by the boys. "Hey! You could at least apologize!" she called after them, though they were obviously too far away to hear. Self absorbed and rude to boot. Who needed men anyway. Boys were gross.
"You okay?" she asked Mazel gently, frowning again as the servant nodded but didn't speak in the presence of the other girls. Mazel truly was an odd one. Amarissa was turning to check on the others when she heard the young girl's tearful tone. She looked over, her eyes widening as she saw the toy's leg clearly broken. "Oh, oh no." she said quickly and glancing at Arela as the young woman said she didn't know what to do.
Quickly kneeling next to the younger girl, Amarissa sidled up to her and offered her hand. "May I see it?" she asked gently. "I'm sure we can fix it" she said with confidence. As the merchant protested the broken toy, Amarissa answered at exactly the same time as Arela. "Of course!" though there was a bit more a protective growl in her voice. "Here." she said once more in a soft tone and gave her coin purse to Mazel. "Pay the man please Mazel" she directed and turned her attention back to the girl.
"It wasn't your fault." she tried to comfort her and put a gentle hand on her back. "Those boys were very rude. They should have been more careful" she assured the girl.
Curveball Market Day
As the people of Israel shop quietly around the market place, there are suddenly screams from the centre of the market. Out of nowhere, masked men have jumped into view, demanding coin and any jewellery worn by the women to be added to the sacks and bags they carry. They operate as a unit... as if they have done this many, many times before...
JD
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JD
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As the people of Israel shop quietly around the market place, there are suddenly screams from the centre of the market. Out of nowhere, masked men have jumped into view, demanding coin and any jewellery worn by the women to be added to the sacks and bags they carry. They operate as a unit... as if they have done this many, many times before...
Curveball Market Day
As the people of Israel shop quietly around the market place, there are suddenly screams from the centre of the market. Out of nowhere, masked men have jumped into view, demanding coin and any jewellery worn by the women to be added to the sacks and bags they carry. They operate as a unit... as if they have done this many, many times before...
Maeri continued sniffing, feeling the tears beginning to flow down her face as the merchant yelled that they were supposed to pay for the merchandise. She had been intending to pay, she wasn’t going to steal it. So she thought it was completely unfair that the man was treating her like a thief. Much to her relief, one of the older girls stepped up to defend her to the merchant, intervening before he could yell at her further and cause her to cry in front of these older girls. Though the battle to keep her tears in was one that she seemed to be losing.
Maeri was a bit surprised to find that instead of being mocked for her tears, the other older girl bent down and offered to take a look at the toy that she was now clutching in two pieces in each hand. Maeri sniffed a bit, and held the pieces out to her, trying not to cry harder as she once again looked on the broken carved cat. Maeri tried to protest the older girl paying for the cat. She had meant to pay for it herself. “I can….” Maeri sniffed. “Pay you back.” She did appreciate the girl’s kindness, but it was supposed to be something she bought for herself.
Then suddenly, there were men in the middle of the market who had jumped out and started demanding that everyone give them their money and jewelry. Maeri started bawling loudly. This was terrifying. She didn’t even have that much money, but she clutched her small purse with a few coins in it tightly to her chest. It was her money, she didn’t want anyone to take it from her, but she didn’t want them to hurt her either. She closed her eyes tightly, hoping that maybe if she closed her eyes it wouldn’t even be real.
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Sept 10, 2019 21:49:08 GMT
Posted In Market Day on Sept 10, 2019 21:49:08 GMT
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Maeri continued sniffing, feeling the tears beginning to flow down her face as the merchant yelled that they were supposed to pay for the merchandise. She had been intending to pay, she wasn’t going to steal it. So she thought it was completely unfair that the man was treating her like a thief. Much to her relief, one of the older girls stepped up to defend her to the merchant, intervening before he could yell at her further and cause her to cry in front of these older girls. Though the battle to keep her tears in was one that she seemed to be losing.
Maeri was a bit surprised to find that instead of being mocked for her tears, the other older girl bent down and offered to take a look at the toy that she was now clutching in two pieces in each hand. Maeri sniffed a bit, and held the pieces out to her, trying not to cry harder as she once again looked on the broken carved cat. Maeri tried to protest the older girl paying for the cat. She had meant to pay for it herself. “I can….” Maeri sniffed. “Pay you back.” She did appreciate the girl’s kindness, but it was supposed to be something she bought for herself.
Then suddenly, there were men in the middle of the market who had jumped out and started demanding that everyone give them their money and jewelry. Maeri started bawling loudly. This was terrifying. She didn’t even have that much money, but she clutched her small purse with a few coins in it tightly to her chest. It was her money, she didn’t want anyone to take it from her, but she didn’t want them to hurt her either. She closed her eyes tightly, hoping that maybe if she closed her eyes it wouldn’t even be real.
Maeri continued sniffing, feeling the tears beginning to flow down her face as the merchant yelled that they were supposed to pay for the merchandise. She had been intending to pay, she wasn’t going to steal it. So she thought it was completely unfair that the man was treating her like a thief. Much to her relief, one of the older girls stepped up to defend her to the merchant, intervening before he could yell at her further and cause her to cry in front of these older girls. Though the battle to keep her tears in was one that she seemed to be losing.
Maeri was a bit surprised to find that instead of being mocked for her tears, the other older girl bent down and offered to take a look at the toy that she was now clutching in two pieces in each hand. Maeri sniffed a bit, and held the pieces out to her, trying not to cry harder as she once again looked on the broken carved cat. Maeri tried to protest the older girl paying for the cat. She had meant to pay for it herself. “I can….” Maeri sniffed. “Pay you back.” She did appreciate the girl’s kindness, but it was supposed to be something she bought for herself.
Then suddenly, there were men in the middle of the market who had jumped out and started demanding that everyone give them their money and jewelry. Maeri started bawling loudly. This was terrifying. She didn’t even have that much money, but she clutched her small purse with a few coins in it tightly to her chest. It was her money, she didn’t want anyone to take it from her, but she didn’t want them to hurt her either. She closed her eyes tightly, hoping that maybe if she closed her eyes it wouldn’t even be real.
Arela breathed a sigh of relief as Amarissa knelt by the crying child and began to comfort it. Children were annoying while they were crying and Arela had a tendency to retreat when a child began to cry. Amarissa was much better at cheering the girl up then she would’ve been anyway.
Dealing with the man was much easier, all one had to do for him was pay him. He was after all, just trying to make a living. Amarissa’s protective growl at the merchant surprised her. Didn’t she know that the merchant was just worried? She could imagine her father doing the same thing if a customer had broken something in their shop. In fact, she was sure that it’d happened while she was visiting the store before.
She hesitated before reaching for her purse though, it didn't seem quite worth the money to pay for a broken carving. Amarissa however appeared to have no such doubts. As she waited not a moment before handing her purse to her servant with orders to pay the man. As the servant did so, Arela couldn't push away the feelings of relief and regret threatening to show on her face.
On one hand she didn't have to pay for the broken toy but it also made her look bad by letting Amarissa pay the money. She didn't protest though and once paid the merchant turned away from them.
Dimly she heard Maeri insisting she'd pay Amarissa back, but even with the merchant gone Arela's attention had not returned to the child. Partly avoiding the inevitable tears and partly distracted by movement in the market.
Before she knew it, men were yelling. It was cacophony, and she realized that they were demanding money and jewellery. If the trio wanted to avoid being robbed they had to do something fast, and judging by the child clutching her purse she figured that they did indeed want to avoid the robbing.
But how were they supposed to disappear?
For a moment Arela considered running from the market but as she looked around at the panicking people, she decided that it was just as likely that she'd be trampled instead. Running away, leaving Maeri even though Amarissa was doing a perfectly good job of looking after the child by herself would reflect badly upon her. It would make her look like a coward. Something that she definitely didn't want to be.
She should've stayed with Nissa.
So, willing herself to remain calm, she stepped up to Maeri, touching her shoulder briefly and making eye contact with Amarissa. A look that betrayed Arela's fear that she held inside.
"We should move away" she whispered.
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Arela breathed a sigh of relief as Amarissa knelt by the crying child and began to comfort it. Children were annoying while they were crying and Arela had a tendency to retreat when a child began to cry. Amarissa was much better at cheering the girl up then she would’ve been anyway.
Dealing with the man was much easier, all one had to do for him was pay him. He was after all, just trying to make a living. Amarissa’s protective growl at the merchant surprised her. Didn’t she know that the merchant was just worried? She could imagine her father doing the same thing if a customer had broken something in their shop. In fact, she was sure that it’d happened while she was visiting the store before.
She hesitated before reaching for her purse though, it didn't seem quite worth the money to pay for a broken carving. Amarissa however appeared to have no such doubts. As she waited not a moment before handing her purse to her servant with orders to pay the man. As the servant did so, Arela couldn't push away the feelings of relief and regret threatening to show on her face.
On one hand she didn't have to pay for the broken toy but it also made her look bad by letting Amarissa pay the money. She didn't protest though and once paid the merchant turned away from them.
Dimly she heard Maeri insisting she'd pay Amarissa back, but even with the merchant gone Arela's attention had not returned to the child. Partly avoiding the inevitable tears and partly distracted by movement in the market.
Before she knew it, men were yelling. It was cacophony, and she realized that they were demanding money and jewellery. If the trio wanted to avoid being robbed they had to do something fast, and judging by the child clutching her purse she figured that they did indeed want to avoid the robbing.
But how were they supposed to disappear?
For a moment Arela considered running from the market but as she looked around at the panicking people, she decided that it was just as likely that she'd be trampled instead. Running away, leaving Maeri even though Amarissa was doing a perfectly good job of looking after the child by herself would reflect badly upon her. It would make her look like a coward. Something that she definitely didn't want to be.
She should've stayed with Nissa.
So, willing herself to remain calm, she stepped up to Maeri, touching her shoulder briefly and making eye contact with Amarissa. A look that betrayed Arela's fear that she held inside.
"We should move away" she whispered.
Arela breathed a sigh of relief as Amarissa knelt by the crying child and began to comfort it. Children were annoying while they were crying and Arela had a tendency to retreat when a child began to cry. Amarissa was much better at cheering the girl up then she would’ve been anyway.
Dealing with the man was much easier, all one had to do for him was pay him. He was after all, just trying to make a living. Amarissa’s protective growl at the merchant surprised her. Didn’t she know that the merchant was just worried? She could imagine her father doing the same thing if a customer had broken something in their shop. In fact, she was sure that it’d happened while she was visiting the store before.
She hesitated before reaching for her purse though, it didn't seem quite worth the money to pay for a broken carving. Amarissa however appeared to have no such doubts. As she waited not a moment before handing her purse to her servant with orders to pay the man. As the servant did so, Arela couldn't push away the feelings of relief and regret threatening to show on her face.
On one hand she didn't have to pay for the broken toy but it also made her look bad by letting Amarissa pay the money. She didn't protest though and once paid the merchant turned away from them.
Dimly she heard Maeri insisting she'd pay Amarissa back, but even with the merchant gone Arela's attention had not returned to the child. Partly avoiding the inevitable tears and partly distracted by movement in the market.
Before she knew it, men were yelling. It was cacophony, and she realized that they were demanding money and jewellery. If the trio wanted to avoid being robbed they had to do something fast, and judging by the child clutching her purse she figured that they did indeed want to avoid the robbing.
But how were they supposed to disappear?
For a moment Arela considered running from the market but as she looked around at the panicking people, she decided that it was just as likely that she'd be trampled instead. Running away, leaving Maeri even though Amarissa was doing a perfectly good job of looking after the child by herself would reflect badly upon her. It would make her look like a coward. Something that she definitely didn't want to be.
She should've stayed with Nissa.
So, willing herself to remain calm, she stepped up to Maeri, touching her shoulder briefly and making eye contact with Amarissa. A look that betrayed Arela's fear that she held inside.
"We should move away" she whispered.
Hazael wasn’t too sure what had happened. One moment he was talking with Rivkah, smiling at the compliment that she had given him. The next, he had been knocked into the dirt and a strange man stood above him, asking if the boy was alright.
Was he alright?
Pulling himself off the ground, Hazael was relieved to see that he hadn’t been hurt in the chaos unleashed by Shiloh. Granted, he was a little sore and the fabric of his simlah was stained from the dirt, but all in all, it could have been much worse.
“ Yeah, I think so…” Hazael said a little dazed as he tried to brush off the grime as best as he could, but it was a fruitless task. As soon as he realized this, a small grimace crossed his face, already fully aware that his step-mother would never let him hear the end of it once she saw what had happened. Shaking this aside though, he turned his head to where Rivkah had been just a moment before, as if to ask if she was alright and joke about how their mothers would kill them for getting their outfits dirty, but to his shock she wasn’t there.
With a panicked look in his eyes, Hazael looked about the thick crowd, trying to see if he could catch a glimpse of that familiar crop of dark curls. Standing on the tips of his toes, he silently prayed that she was close by and just missing for a moment; but there was no sign of her. It was like she had disappeared into thin air.
“ Where’s Rivkah?!” He practically shouted Amiti, a man who knew no more than he did as to where his friend was, “ Where did she go?!” It must have been a confusing sight for the older man, this little boy being all in a tizzy about where his companion had disappeared to, but he didn’t know what Hazael knew. Rivkah had already lost her father in the crowd and her mother wasn’t here that day. Now that she had been separated from Haz, that meant that she was now on her own in a crowded market teeming with monstrous Greeks.
“ I have to find her!” The words practically tumbled out his mouth as he quickly broke away from the Jaffe heir and dived into the crowd, not caring anymore about the dirty fabric. He called her name as he moved among the throngs of people, searching frantically for his friend. The hunt was fruitless though and soon enough he was on the edge of the crowd, long separated from both his friends and far away from wherever his family was at that moment.
However, this wasn’t enough to deter his search… or at least it wasn’t until he ran face-first into someone much larger than he.
Falling back onto the dirt again from the sheer impact, Hazael knew that this time his tumble would leave a little more than a few stains on his fabric. Groaning slightly from the bruises that were already blooming under his skin, he glanced up to see who was the second victim of Hazael’s carelessness and instantly, the boy swore that he would never let himself be so klumzy again.
The man before him seemed to be the reincarnation of Goliath. He was at least twice his height and was so muscular that it looked as if he could crush the poor boy like a twig if he so wished. Although this alone was terrifying, it was nothing compared to the fear struck into Hazael’s heart when he saw the other features that the man possessed. Dark hair, olive-colored skin, bright green eyes. This man had all the traits of both an Egyptian and the Greeks… he was more than Goliath. He was the monster that plagued his worst nightmares. The two monsters that plagued his people, all wrapped up into one terrifying man that was known as Khanh of Giza.
“ What are you?...” Hazael quietly stammered out, wide-eyed from the xenophobic fear put into the child by the anger of his father. He didn’t even consider that this was offensive. Nor could little Hazael even remember his plight for a moment ago. Instead, all he could think of was the thousand and one ways this man could kill him and not a single reason as to why he wouldn’t. In fact, the fear was so great that Hazael couldn’t even push himself up from the ground. He just stayed where he was, holding his breath and waiting to see what this monster would do and how he would strike.
But was this man even a monster to begin with?
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Hazael wasn’t too sure what had happened. One moment he was talking with Rivkah, smiling at the compliment that she had given him. The next, he had been knocked into the dirt and a strange man stood above him, asking if the boy was alright.
Was he alright?
Pulling himself off the ground, Hazael was relieved to see that he hadn’t been hurt in the chaos unleashed by Shiloh. Granted, he was a little sore and the fabric of his simlah was stained from the dirt, but all in all, it could have been much worse.
“ Yeah, I think so…” Hazael said a little dazed as he tried to brush off the grime as best as he could, but it was a fruitless task. As soon as he realized this, a small grimace crossed his face, already fully aware that his step-mother would never let him hear the end of it once she saw what had happened. Shaking this aside though, he turned his head to where Rivkah had been just a moment before, as if to ask if she was alright and joke about how their mothers would kill them for getting their outfits dirty, but to his shock she wasn’t there.
With a panicked look in his eyes, Hazael looked about the thick crowd, trying to see if he could catch a glimpse of that familiar crop of dark curls. Standing on the tips of his toes, he silently prayed that she was close by and just missing for a moment; but there was no sign of her. It was like she had disappeared into thin air.
“ Where’s Rivkah?!” He practically shouted Amiti, a man who knew no more than he did as to where his friend was, “ Where did she go?!” It must have been a confusing sight for the older man, this little boy being all in a tizzy about where his companion had disappeared to, but he didn’t know what Hazael knew. Rivkah had already lost her father in the crowd and her mother wasn’t here that day. Now that she had been separated from Haz, that meant that she was now on her own in a crowded market teeming with monstrous Greeks.
“ I have to find her!” The words practically tumbled out his mouth as he quickly broke away from the Jaffe heir and dived into the crowd, not caring anymore about the dirty fabric. He called her name as he moved among the throngs of people, searching frantically for his friend. The hunt was fruitless though and soon enough he was on the edge of the crowd, long separated from both his friends and far away from wherever his family was at that moment.
However, this wasn’t enough to deter his search… or at least it wasn’t until he ran face-first into someone much larger than he.
Falling back onto the dirt again from the sheer impact, Hazael knew that this time his tumble would leave a little more than a few stains on his fabric. Groaning slightly from the bruises that were already blooming under his skin, he glanced up to see who was the second victim of Hazael’s carelessness and instantly, the boy swore that he would never let himself be so klumzy again.
The man before him seemed to be the reincarnation of Goliath. He was at least twice his height and was so muscular that it looked as if he could crush the poor boy like a twig if he so wished. Although this alone was terrifying, it was nothing compared to the fear struck into Hazael’s heart when he saw the other features that the man possessed. Dark hair, olive-colored skin, bright green eyes. This man had all the traits of both an Egyptian and the Greeks… he was more than Goliath. He was the monster that plagued his worst nightmares. The two monsters that plagued his people, all wrapped up into one terrifying man that was known as Khanh of Giza.
“ What are you?...” Hazael quietly stammered out, wide-eyed from the xenophobic fear put into the child by the anger of his father. He didn’t even consider that this was offensive. Nor could little Hazael even remember his plight for a moment ago. Instead, all he could think of was the thousand and one ways this man could kill him and not a single reason as to why he wouldn’t. In fact, the fear was so great that Hazael couldn’t even push himself up from the ground. He just stayed where he was, holding his breath and waiting to see what this monster would do and how he would strike.
But was this man even a monster to begin with?
Hazael wasn’t too sure what had happened. One moment he was talking with Rivkah, smiling at the compliment that she had given him. The next, he had been knocked into the dirt and a strange man stood above him, asking if the boy was alright.
Was he alright?
Pulling himself off the ground, Hazael was relieved to see that he hadn’t been hurt in the chaos unleashed by Shiloh. Granted, he was a little sore and the fabric of his simlah was stained from the dirt, but all in all, it could have been much worse.
“ Yeah, I think so…” Hazael said a little dazed as he tried to brush off the grime as best as he could, but it was a fruitless task. As soon as he realized this, a small grimace crossed his face, already fully aware that his step-mother would never let him hear the end of it once she saw what had happened. Shaking this aside though, he turned his head to where Rivkah had been just a moment before, as if to ask if she was alright and joke about how their mothers would kill them for getting their outfits dirty, but to his shock she wasn’t there.
With a panicked look in his eyes, Hazael looked about the thick crowd, trying to see if he could catch a glimpse of that familiar crop of dark curls. Standing on the tips of his toes, he silently prayed that she was close by and just missing for a moment; but there was no sign of her. It was like she had disappeared into thin air.
“ Where’s Rivkah?!” He practically shouted Amiti, a man who knew no more than he did as to where his friend was, “ Where did she go?!” It must have been a confusing sight for the older man, this little boy being all in a tizzy about where his companion had disappeared to, but he didn’t know what Hazael knew. Rivkah had already lost her father in the crowd and her mother wasn’t here that day. Now that she had been separated from Haz, that meant that she was now on her own in a crowded market teeming with monstrous Greeks.
“ I have to find her!” The words practically tumbled out his mouth as he quickly broke away from the Jaffe heir and dived into the crowd, not caring anymore about the dirty fabric. He called her name as he moved among the throngs of people, searching frantically for his friend. The hunt was fruitless though and soon enough he was on the edge of the crowd, long separated from both his friends and far away from wherever his family was at that moment.
However, this wasn’t enough to deter his search… or at least it wasn’t until he ran face-first into someone much larger than he.
Falling back onto the dirt again from the sheer impact, Hazael knew that this time his tumble would leave a little more than a few stains on his fabric. Groaning slightly from the bruises that were already blooming under his skin, he glanced up to see who was the second victim of Hazael’s carelessness and instantly, the boy swore that he would never let himself be so klumzy again.
The man before him seemed to be the reincarnation of Goliath. He was at least twice his height and was so muscular that it looked as if he could crush the poor boy like a twig if he so wished. Although this alone was terrifying, it was nothing compared to the fear struck into Hazael’s heart when he saw the other features that the man possessed. Dark hair, olive-colored skin, bright green eyes. This man had all the traits of both an Egyptian and the Greeks… he was more than Goliath. He was the monster that plagued his worst nightmares. The two monsters that plagued his people, all wrapped up into one terrifying man that was known as Khanh of Giza.
“ What are you?...” Hazael quietly stammered out, wide-eyed from the xenophobic fear put into the child by the anger of his father. He didn’t even consider that this was offensive. Nor could little Hazael even remember his plight for a moment ago. Instead, all he could think of was the thousand and one ways this man could kill him and not a single reason as to why he wouldn’t. In fact, the fear was so great that Hazael couldn’t even push himself up from the ground. He just stayed where he was, holding his breath and waiting to see what this monster would do and how he would strike.
But was this man even a monster to begin with?
The objective was simple: grab as much as they could carry - don’t get caught. Nahash was on a different street and for now, it was Khanh and Zai working this one. Khanh handed the younger boy the mask and put on his own. “Follow me,” he said. His voice was muffled from the fabric in front of his mouth but definitely able to be heard. His eyes and the bridge of his nose were visible, but that was all.
The two of them stood just off to the side of the busy street, sheltered by an alley and a huge stack of crates that sat outside of someone’s shop. Over the narrow opening of this sidestreet, a round arch of stonework connected the two buildings that formed the alleyway. Khanh reached up, gripping this, and poked his head out before looking back at Zai. “Let’s split up. As much coin and jewelry as we can get, see?”
Making sure Zai was looking, he pointed out several likely candidates. Unfortunately, Judeans on the whole just weren’t as decked out in gold as Egyptians, but they did have coins and those would work just as well. Zai, of course, did not need to be told his own business. He was a boy of fifteen, but with ten years between them, Khanh felt he knew more and if anything went wrong and if Zai was harmed in some way through negligence of his own, he was fairly certain Nahash might murder him. In a brotherly way, but death would still be the outcome. Clasping a hand on Zai’s shoulder, he smiled and showed around his vivid green eyes. “We come, we take all the pretty things, and we leave, yes?” All of this was not said in hebrew, which meant that unless someone knew coptic, they were in the clear with not being understood, though it would make it difficult to communicate with the locals.
Khanh’s hebrew wasn’t great. He knew a few key phrases such as ‘give me gold’ and ‘where’s the well?’ and ‘more’. Things that were useful.
Ensuring that Zai followed him, Khanh stepped out onto the street and had just pulled his mask back up when something small but solid slammed into him. He looked down to find a little Judean boy had bounced off him and now sat butt down in the street, staring up in blatant alarm. It was a pity this child looked as though he had nothing of worth on him.
The boy stammered out some gibberish Hebrew, which Khanh did not understand. What he did understand was the blatant fear on the kid’s face, and that he found amusing. Bending down and curling his fist into the boy’s clothes, he hoisted him up into the air, bringing him face level, which meant Hazael’s feet were dangling a good bit off the ground.
“It’s a shame you’re poor,” Khanh said idly. Half turning to Zai, he motioned to the kid. “Look at this. Useless.” Then he dropped Hazael and moved past him and into the crowd and toward another group that looked like they might have some coin between them.
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Sept 29, 2019 12:41:37 GMT
Posted In Market Day on Sept 29, 2019 12:41:37 GMT
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The objective was simple: grab as much as they could carry - don’t get caught. Nahash was on a different street and for now, it was Khanh and Zai working this one. Khanh handed the younger boy the mask and put on his own. “Follow me,” he said. His voice was muffled from the fabric in front of his mouth but definitely able to be heard. His eyes and the bridge of his nose were visible, but that was all.
The two of them stood just off to the side of the busy street, sheltered by an alley and a huge stack of crates that sat outside of someone’s shop. Over the narrow opening of this sidestreet, a round arch of stonework connected the two buildings that formed the alleyway. Khanh reached up, gripping this, and poked his head out before looking back at Zai. “Let’s split up. As much coin and jewelry as we can get, see?”
Making sure Zai was looking, he pointed out several likely candidates. Unfortunately, Judeans on the whole just weren’t as decked out in gold as Egyptians, but they did have coins and those would work just as well. Zai, of course, did not need to be told his own business. He was a boy of fifteen, but with ten years between them, Khanh felt he knew more and if anything went wrong and if Zai was harmed in some way through negligence of his own, he was fairly certain Nahash might murder him. In a brotherly way, but death would still be the outcome. Clasping a hand on Zai’s shoulder, he smiled and showed around his vivid green eyes. “We come, we take all the pretty things, and we leave, yes?” All of this was not said in hebrew, which meant that unless someone knew coptic, they were in the clear with not being understood, though it would make it difficult to communicate with the locals.
Khanh’s hebrew wasn’t great. He knew a few key phrases such as ‘give me gold’ and ‘where’s the well?’ and ‘more’. Things that were useful.
Ensuring that Zai followed him, Khanh stepped out onto the street and had just pulled his mask back up when something small but solid slammed into him. He looked down to find a little Judean boy had bounced off him and now sat butt down in the street, staring up in blatant alarm. It was a pity this child looked as though he had nothing of worth on him.
The boy stammered out some gibberish Hebrew, which Khanh did not understand. What he did understand was the blatant fear on the kid’s face, and that he found amusing. Bending down and curling his fist into the boy’s clothes, he hoisted him up into the air, bringing him face level, which meant Hazael’s feet were dangling a good bit off the ground.
“It’s a shame you’re poor,” Khanh said idly. Half turning to Zai, he motioned to the kid. “Look at this. Useless.” Then he dropped Hazael and moved past him and into the crowd and toward another group that looked like they might have some coin between them.
The objective was simple: grab as much as they could carry - don’t get caught. Nahash was on a different street and for now, it was Khanh and Zai working this one. Khanh handed the younger boy the mask and put on his own. “Follow me,” he said. His voice was muffled from the fabric in front of his mouth but definitely able to be heard. His eyes and the bridge of his nose were visible, but that was all.
The two of them stood just off to the side of the busy street, sheltered by an alley and a huge stack of crates that sat outside of someone’s shop. Over the narrow opening of this sidestreet, a round arch of stonework connected the two buildings that formed the alleyway. Khanh reached up, gripping this, and poked his head out before looking back at Zai. “Let’s split up. As much coin and jewelry as we can get, see?”
Making sure Zai was looking, he pointed out several likely candidates. Unfortunately, Judeans on the whole just weren’t as decked out in gold as Egyptians, but they did have coins and those would work just as well. Zai, of course, did not need to be told his own business. He was a boy of fifteen, but with ten years between them, Khanh felt he knew more and if anything went wrong and if Zai was harmed in some way through negligence of his own, he was fairly certain Nahash might murder him. In a brotherly way, but death would still be the outcome. Clasping a hand on Zai’s shoulder, he smiled and showed around his vivid green eyes. “We come, we take all the pretty things, and we leave, yes?” All of this was not said in hebrew, which meant that unless someone knew coptic, they were in the clear with not being understood, though it would make it difficult to communicate with the locals.
Khanh’s hebrew wasn’t great. He knew a few key phrases such as ‘give me gold’ and ‘where’s the well?’ and ‘more’. Things that were useful.
Ensuring that Zai followed him, Khanh stepped out onto the street and had just pulled his mask back up when something small but solid slammed into him. He looked down to find a little Judean boy had bounced off him and now sat butt down in the street, staring up in blatant alarm. It was a pity this child looked as though he had nothing of worth on him.
The boy stammered out some gibberish Hebrew, which Khanh did not understand. What he did understand was the blatant fear on the kid’s face, and that he found amusing. Bending down and curling his fist into the boy’s clothes, he hoisted him up into the air, bringing him face level, which meant Hazael’s feet were dangling a good bit off the ground.
“It’s a shame you’re poor,” Khanh said idly. Half turning to Zai, he motioned to the kid. “Look at this. Useless.” Then he dropped Hazael and moved past him and into the crowd and toward another group that looked like they might have some coin between them.
This day was shot all to pieces and confusing on top of it. His brother was out of sight, this kid screaming in his face, and there was some sort of commotion happening. It was quite a lot to take in. Since the commotion had very little to do with him, at present, he merely offered his hand to Hazael and blinked in surprise when all he received was a bellow in the face about someone named Rivkah.
“Who is Rivkah? Your mother?” he asked, confused.
The boy wasn’t listening. He was growing more and more frenzied, like clouds of steam rising from the edges of a pot. Amiti could practically hear the whistle of the steam whizzing from Hazael’s ears. The child’s face was coated in panic, his arms frantically waving and all he could get out was ”I have to find her!”
“Calm down, lad,” Amiti was alarmed by this child’s loudness. “She’s probably fine.” Before he could get out more, Hazael tore away from him and Amiti, without thinking, gave chase. This child was not fit to be on his own if he was literally going insane. The kid was not all that easy to follow but definitely easy to keep track of. People were moving this way and that, a veritable wall that he had to shove through. Hazael’s voice carried off the stones on either side of the street, echoing around in a never ending ”RIVKAH!”. It was headache inducing and in the middle of it, Amiti wondered what in the world he was even doing, attempting to help a child who obviously didn’t want it.
This crush of bodies was horrible and while he’d kind of given up helping Hazael, he was now having to fight his way to the side of the street, which happened to be the same direction. He looked up just in time to watch Hazael run face first into a monster of a man. A man so huge and broad that Amiti stopped and gawked. He’d never seen someone so big and the mask was worrisome on its own. No one needed a mask within city confines who was up to something innocent. His struggle to reach Hazael increased.
Before he could reach the boy, he saw two masked men emerge from a side street, masked, and looking fairly terrifying. They weren’t Judean. That much was obvious from their clothes and Amiti felt a new rush of panic surge as the gigantic one picked up the boy, spoke, and then dropped him. Amiti wasn’t a brave person and, he wasn’t proud of it, but when Khanh brushed past him, he’d turned his back to hide from the bigger man that he most definitely had coin on him.
Rushing to Hazael’s side, he crouched by the boy. “Are you alright? Let’s get you to your mother. That was an Egyptian who had hold of you, boy.” Amiti hadn’t looked around for the second thief yet and didn’t really see if he’d followed the other man or stayed right here.
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Sept 29, 2019 12:48:27 GMT
Posted In Market Day on Sept 29, 2019 12:48:27 GMT
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This day was shot all to pieces and confusing on top of it. His brother was out of sight, this kid screaming in his face, and there was some sort of commotion happening. It was quite a lot to take in. Since the commotion had very little to do with him, at present, he merely offered his hand to Hazael and blinked in surprise when all he received was a bellow in the face about someone named Rivkah.
“Who is Rivkah? Your mother?” he asked, confused.
The boy wasn’t listening. He was growing more and more frenzied, like clouds of steam rising from the edges of a pot. Amiti could practically hear the whistle of the steam whizzing from Hazael’s ears. The child’s face was coated in panic, his arms frantically waving and all he could get out was ”I have to find her!”
“Calm down, lad,” Amiti was alarmed by this child’s loudness. “She’s probably fine.” Before he could get out more, Hazael tore away from him and Amiti, without thinking, gave chase. This child was not fit to be on his own if he was literally going insane. The kid was not all that easy to follow but definitely easy to keep track of. People were moving this way and that, a veritable wall that he had to shove through. Hazael’s voice carried off the stones on either side of the street, echoing around in a never ending ”RIVKAH!”. It was headache inducing and in the middle of it, Amiti wondered what in the world he was even doing, attempting to help a child who obviously didn’t want it.
This crush of bodies was horrible and while he’d kind of given up helping Hazael, he was now having to fight his way to the side of the street, which happened to be the same direction. He looked up just in time to watch Hazael run face first into a monster of a man. A man so huge and broad that Amiti stopped and gawked. He’d never seen someone so big and the mask was worrisome on its own. No one needed a mask within city confines who was up to something innocent. His struggle to reach Hazael increased.
Before he could reach the boy, he saw two masked men emerge from a side street, masked, and looking fairly terrifying. They weren’t Judean. That much was obvious from their clothes and Amiti felt a new rush of panic surge as the gigantic one picked up the boy, spoke, and then dropped him. Amiti wasn’t a brave person and, he wasn’t proud of it, but when Khanh brushed past him, he’d turned his back to hide from the bigger man that he most definitely had coin on him.
Rushing to Hazael’s side, he crouched by the boy. “Are you alright? Let’s get you to your mother. That was an Egyptian who had hold of you, boy.” Amiti hadn’t looked around for the second thief yet and didn’t really see if he’d followed the other man or stayed right here.
This day was shot all to pieces and confusing on top of it. His brother was out of sight, this kid screaming in his face, and there was some sort of commotion happening. It was quite a lot to take in. Since the commotion had very little to do with him, at present, he merely offered his hand to Hazael and blinked in surprise when all he received was a bellow in the face about someone named Rivkah.
“Who is Rivkah? Your mother?” he asked, confused.
The boy wasn’t listening. He was growing more and more frenzied, like clouds of steam rising from the edges of a pot. Amiti could practically hear the whistle of the steam whizzing from Hazael’s ears. The child’s face was coated in panic, his arms frantically waving and all he could get out was ”I have to find her!”
“Calm down, lad,” Amiti was alarmed by this child’s loudness. “She’s probably fine.” Before he could get out more, Hazael tore away from him and Amiti, without thinking, gave chase. This child was not fit to be on his own if he was literally going insane. The kid was not all that easy to follow but definitely easy to keep track of. People were moving this way and that, a veritable wall that he had to shove through. Hazael’s voice carried off the stones on either side of the street, echoing around in a never ending ”RIVKAH!”. It was headache inducing and in the middle of it, Amiti wondered what in the world he was even doing, attempting to help a child who obviously didn’t want it.
This crush of bodies was horrible and while he’d kind of given up helping Hazael, he was now having to fight his way to the side of the street, which happened to be the same direction. He looked up just in time to watch Hazael run face first into a monster of a man. A man so huge and broad that Amiti stopped and gawked. He’d never seen someone so big and the mask was worrisome on its own. No one needed a mask within city confines who was up to something innocent. His struggle to reach Hazael increased.
Before he could reach the boy, he saw two masked men emerge from a side street, masked, and looking fairly terrifying. They weren’t Judean. That much was obvious from their clothes and Amiti felt a new rush of panic surge as the gigantic one picked up the boy, spoke, and then dropped him. Amiti wasn’t a brave person and, he wasn’t proud of it, but when Khanh brushed past him, he’d turned his back to hide from the bigger man that he most definitely had coin on him.
Rushing to Hazael’s side, he crouched by the boy. “Are you alright? Let’s get you to your mother. That was an Egyptian who had hold of you, boy.” Amiti hadn’t looked around for the second thief yet and didn’t really see if he’d followed the other man or stayed right here.
Zai was now past the age where he was small and innocent looking enough to be used as a decoy or as the cute face that people felt sorry for while his brother robbed someone blind. He was also not large enough to be intimidating either, not like Nahash or Khan. Still, he was quick, clever, and small enough to slip into a crowd and disappear. Still, he was immature and thought himself invincible. So, he also took risks.
Despite this, he knew the code of stepping out line. Even his big brother wouldn't save him from a Khan beating if he disobeyed the man so he followed and did as told. He tensed and stood stock still as the boy ran into Khan. Khanh's reaction was as expected, the boy was poor and therefore useless. He would be tossed aside. Almost literally.
He shouldered past a smaller boy and girl, ripping a necklace from her throat. She cried out and cowered, giving Zai heart. He was scary. He was intimidating. He jumped at them before moving on and looking at his prize. Mostly worthless but one gem looked to be shiny enough to fetch a price.
Braver now, he saw the people Khan was aiming for and rushed them, blade pointed, "Empty your purses." He demanded, his voice low and dangerous. Behind his mask, he saw the fearful people. He knew without Khanh near that these people might laugh him off. Soon enough, he would be as big and be able to do this on his own. He would skip ahead if he could. But, for now, he would have to be satisfied with needing Khanh or Nahash around.
"Do it!" He growled.
ooc: He can be talking to anyone so step right up!
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Zai was now past the age where he was small and innocent looking enough to be used as a decoy or as the cute face that people felt sorry for while his brother robbed someone blind. He was also not large enough to be intimidating either, not like Nahash or Khan. Still, he was quick, clever, and small enough to slip into a crowd and disappear. Still, he was immature and thought himself invincible. So, he also took risks.
Despite this, he knew the code of stepping out line. Even his big brother wouldn't save him from a Khan beating if he disobeyed the man so he followed and did as told. He tensed and stood stock still as the boy ran into Khan. Khanh's reaction was as expected, the boy was poor and therefore useless. He would be tossed aside. Almost literally.
He shouldered past a smaller boy and girl, ripping a necklace from her throat. She cried out and cowered, giving Zai heart. He was scary. He was intimidating. He jumped at them before moving on and looking at his prize. Mostly worthless but one gem looked to be shiny enough to fetch a price.
Braver now, he saw the people Khan was aiming for and rushed them, blade pointed, "Empty your purses." He demanded, his voice low and dangerous. Behind his mask, he saw the fearful people. He knew without Khanh near that these people might laugh him off. Soon enough, he would be as big and be able to do this on his own. He would skip ahead if he could. But, for now, he would have to be satisfied with needing Khanh or Nahash around.
"Do it!" He growled.
ooc: He can be talking to anyone so step right up!
Zai was now past the age where he was small and innocent looking enough to be used as a decoy or as the cute face that people felt sorry for while his brother robbed someone blind. He was also not large enough to be intimidating either, not like Nahash or Khan. Still, he was quick, clever, and small enough to slip into a crowd and disappear. Still, he was immature and thought himself invincible. So, he also took risks.
Despite this, he knew the code of stepping out line. Even his big brother wouldn't save him from a Khan beating if he disobeyed the man so he followed and did as told. He tensed and stood stock still as the boy ran into Khan. Khanh's reaction was as expected, the boy was poor and therefore useless. He would be tossed aside. Almost literally.
He shouldered past a smaller boy and girl, ripping a necklace from her throat. She cried out and cowered, giving Zai heart. He was scary. He was intimidating. He jumped at them before moving on and looking at his prize. Mostly worthless but one gem looked to be shiny enough to fetch a price.
Braver now, he saw the people Khan was aiming for and rushed them, blade pointed, "Empty your purses." He demanded, his voice low and dangerous. Behind his mask, he saw the fearful people. He knew without Khanh near that these people might laugh him off. Soon enough, he would be as big and be able to do this on his own. He would skip ahead if he could. But, for now, he would have to be satisfied with needing Khanh or Nahash around.
"Do it!" He growled.
ooc: He can be talking to anyone so step right up!
Amarissa was just finding satisfaction at having successfully resolved the situation with the broken cat when chaos seemed to break out in the crowed around them. Women were screaming, men were yelling the names of their loved ones. The calls of children for their mother's filled the air. Exchanging a shocked look with Arela, Amarissa quickly wrapped a protective arm around the young girl with them and looked around for a safe escape. Mazel still had her purse but had seemed to have hidden it in the chaos. Such a smart girl.
Amarissa looked back for the merchant but found he had already disappeared, apparently deciding his wares were less valuable than his life. "Yes" she said in agreement with her friend and out of desperation pointed to what looked like an opening and began guiding Maeri forward, trusting Arela and Mazel to follow along.
The two of them zigged and zagged around the frightened people all trying to get away from whomever was threatening them as Amarissa practically dragged the young girl along by the hand. She saw what looked to be a perfect escape ahead when suddenly she found herself facing the back of a giant of a man.
A small yelp escaped her as she slid a stop, narrowly avoiding running into him and she tried to keep Maeri from doing the same. Her eyes darted in panic, her free hand gripping a small stone from Gali's collection that had been fashioned into a necklace. Her mitzpah normally covered it but in her haste to escape, it was peaking from it's hiding place as she prayed Yahweh would hide them from the giant's notice and let them escape into the crowd once more.
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Amarissa was just finding satisfaction at having successfully resolved the situation with the broken cat when chaos seemed to break out in the crowed around them. Women were screaming, men were yelling the names of their loved ones. The calls of children for their mother's filled the air. Exchanging a shocked look with Arela, Amarissa quickly wrapped a protective arm around the young girl with them and looked around for a safe escape. Mazel still had her purse but had seemed to have hidden it in the chaos. Such a smart girl.
Amarissa looked back for the merchant but found he had already disappeared, apparently deciding his wares were less valuable than his life. "Yes" she said in agreement with her friend and out of desperation pointed to what looked like an opening and began guiding Maeri forward, trusting Arela and Mazel to follow along.
The two of them zigged and zagged around the frightened people all trying to get away from whomever was threatening them as Amarissa practically dragged the young girl along by the hand. She saw what looked to be a perfect escape ahead when suddenly she found herself facing the back of a giant of a man.
A small yelp escaped her as she slid a stop, narrowly avoiding running into him and she tried to keep Maeri from doing the same. Her eyes darted in panic, her free hand gripping a small stone from Gali's collection that had been fashioned into a necklace. Her mitzpah normally covered it but in her haste to escape, it was peaking from it's hiding place as she prayed Yahweh would hide them from the giant's notice and let them escape into the crowd once more.
Amarissa was just finding satisfaction at having successfully resolved the situation with the broken cat when chaos seemed to break out in the crowed around them. Women were screaming, men were yelling the names of their loved ones. The calls of children for their mother's filled the air. Exchanging a shocked look with Arela, Amarissa quickly wrapped a protective arm around the young girl with them and looked around for a safe escape. Mazel still had her purse but had seemed to have hidden it in the chaos. Such a smart girl.
Amarissa looked back for the merchant but found he had already disappeared, apparently deciding his wares were less valuable than his life. "Yes" she said in agreement with her friend and out of desperation pointed to what looked like an opening and began guiding Maeri forward, trusting Arela and Mazel to follow along.
The two of them zigged and zagged around the frightened people all trying to get away from whomever was threatening them as Amarissa practically dragged the young girl along by the hand. She saw what looked to be a perfect escape ahead when suddenly she found herself facing the back of a giant of a man.
A small yelp escaped her as she slid a stop, narrowly avoiding running into him and she tried to keep Maeri from doing the same. Her eyes darted in panic, her free hand gripping a small stone from Gali's collection that had been fashioned into a necklace. Her mitzpah normally covered it but in her haste to escape, it was peaking from it's hiding place as she prayed Yahweh would hide them from the giant's notice and let them escape into the crowd once more.
If Khanh had known of the insecurities plaguing Zai, he would have been a little less harsh. They had been stealing for nearly as long as he could remember and his ordering the younger boy about was more habit than thought that Zai didn’t know what he was doing. He trusted Zai and he trusted Nahash. That was it. These were his two people and he didn’t feel the need for more. That was why he wasn’t watching Zai’s every move. He didn’t turn to survey the crowd or how they perceived what Zai was doing. The goal was simple; acquire valuables. There was no need to supervise Zai doing something that even a child knew how to do.
The crowd around them seethed and parted. It was almost supernatural, the way he could step from side to side and suddenly find no people beside him. Supernatural and frustrating. All he wanted was to rob them. Why couldn’t they have the decency to stand still? Of course, if they did, that was probably worse because then they appeared aggressive and he was not one to back down from a fight.
Reaching out, he grabbed hold of a man running past and relieved him of the burden of a sack of coins. By weight alone, Khanh knew it wasn’t enough. He adjusted his face mask and grinned beneath it when he saw Zai bringing out his knife. Perfect.
And then, all at once, he felt something small pelt into his back. Turning, he found himself looking down into a child’s dark eyes. “Hello,” he greeted in Coptic. “What have we here?” Grabbing Amarissa, he brought her and her friends around, just in time to put them in the path of Zai, who was now shouting at them to empty their purses. Maybe it was mean to do this to children, but the sooner they learned that the world wasn’t fair, the better. Really, he supposed, this was a favor. They shouldn’t be out in the marketplace without their parents anyway. It was just that simple.
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If Khanh had known of the insecurities plaguing Zai, he would have been a little less harsh. They had been stealing for nearly as long as he could remember and his ordering the younger boy about was more habit than thought that Zai didn’t know what he was doing. He trusted Zai and he trusted Nahash. That was it. These were his two people and he didn’t feel the need for more. That was why he wasn’t watching Zai’s every move. He didn’t turn to survey the crowd or how they perceived what Zai was doing. The goal was simple; acquire valuables. There was no need to supervise Zai doing something that even a child knew how to do.
The crowd around them seethed and parted. It was almost supernatural, the way he could step from side to side and suddenly find no people beside him. Supernatural and frustrating. All he wanted was to rob them. Why couldn’t they have the decency to stand still? Of course, if they did, that was probably worse because then they appeared aggressive and he was not one to back down from a fight.
Reaching out, he grabbed hold of a man running past and relieved him of the burden of a sack of coins. By weight alone, Khanh knew it wasn’t enough. He adjusted his face mask and grinned beneath it when he saw Zai bringing out his knife. Perfect.
And then, all at once, he felt something small pelt into his back. Turning, he found himself looking down into a child’s dark eyes. “Hello,” he greeted in Coptic. “What have we here?” Grabbing Amarissa, he brought her and her friends around, just in time to put them in the path of Zai, who was now shouting at them to empty their purses. Maybe it was mean to do this to children, but the sooner they learned that the world wasn’t fair, the better. Really, he supposed, this was a favor. They shouldn’t be out in the marketplace without their parents anyway. It was just that simple.
If Khanh had known of the insecurities plaguing Zai, he would have been a little less harsh. They had been stealing for nearly as long as he could remember and his ordering the younger boy about was more habit than thought that Zai didn’t know what he was doing. He trusted Zai and he trusted Nahash. That was it. These were his two people and he didn’t feel the need for more. That was why he wasn’t watching Zai’s every move. He didn’t turn to survey the crowd or how they perceived what Zai was doing. The goal was simple; acquire valuables. There was no need to supervise Zai doing something that even a child knew how to do.
The crowd around them seethed and parted. It was almost supernatural, the way he could step from side to side and suddenly find no people beside him. Supernatural and frustrating. All he wanted was to rob them. Why couldn’t they have the decency to stand still? Of course, if they did, that was probably worse because then they appeared aggressive and he was not one to back down from a fight.
Reaching out, he grabbed hold of a man running past and relieved him of the burden of a sack of coins. By weight alone, Khanh knew it wasn’t enough. He adjusted his face mask and grinned beneath it when he saw Zai bringing out his knife. Perfect.
And then, all at once, he felt something small pelt into his back. Turning, he found himself looking down into a child’s dark eyes. “Hello,” he greeted in Coptic. “What have we here?” Grabbing Amarissa, he brought her and her friends around, just in time to put them in the path of Zai, who was now shouting at them to empty their purses. Maybe it was mean to do this to children, but the sooner they learned that the world wasn’t fair, the better. Really, he supposed, this was a favor. They shouldn’t be out in the marketplace without their parents anyway. It was just that simple.
It was all Maeri could do to keep up with the two older girls as they dodged through the crowds trying to evade the thieves. Her little legs were moving as quickly as they could trying to avoid being pulled over or knocked off balance as they ran. In all the chaos and terror, she couldn’t stop the sobs from escaping, and the tears from rolling down her cheeks. At least in all the noise and confusion, the older girls might not notice, or so she could only hope. Her little coin purse she clutched in one hand, and the broken cat in the other, clinging tightly as if they were her most prized possessions, and for the moment they were. Fear had narrowed her entire world to just these few moments.
It seemed for a moment that they might be able to escape until suddenly Amarissa came to a halt and Maeri ran headlong into something in front of them. A large, terrifying man spun around to see what had hit him, looming over the group of girls. He grabbed the girls in turn and then spun them around. Maeri squeaked shrilly at the rough treatment. Another scary man in a mask in front of them demanded that they give up their purses and possessions, but Maeri clung tighter to her little purse of coins and sobbed even harder. “Mama said not to lose them,” Maeri protested. She didn’t want her mother to be disappointed in her for losing all her money with nothing to show for it.
Maeri glanced back up at Amarissa and Arela hoping that one of them might be willing to back her up. They were bigger and older, surely they’d know how to make the scary men go away. She clutched the wooden cat even tighter, she wasn’t going to give that up either.
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It was all Maeri could do to keep up with the two older girls as they dodged through the crowds trying to evade the thieves. Her little legs were moving as quickly as they could trying to avoid being pulled over or knocked off balance as they ran. In all the chaos and terror, she couldn’t stop the sobs from escaping, and the tears from rolling down her cheeks. At least in all the noise and confusion, the older girls might not notice, or so she could only hope. Her little coin purse she clutched in one hand, and the broken cat in the other, clinging tightly as if they were her most prized possessions, and for the moment they were. Fear had narrowed her entire world to just these few moments.
It seemed for a moment that they might be able to escape until suddenly Amarissa came to a halt and Maeri ran headlong into something in front of them. A large, terrifying man spun around to see what had hit him, looming over the group of girls. He grabbed the girls in turn and then spun them around. Maeri squeaked shrilly at the rough treatment. Another scary man in a mask in front of them demanded that they give up their purses and possessions, but Maeri clung tighter to her little purse of coins and sobbed even harder. “Mama said not to lose them,” Maeri protested. She didn’t want her mother to be disappointed in her for losing all her money with nothing to show for it.
Maeri glanced back up at Amarissa and Arela hoping that one of them might be willing to back her up. They were bigger and older, surely they’d know how to make the scary men go away. She clutched the wooden cat even tighter, she wasn’t going to give that up either.
It was all Maeri could do to keep up with the two older girls as they dodged through the crowds trying to evade the thieves. Her little legs were moving as quickly as they could trying to avoid being pulled over or knocked off balance as they ran. In all the chaos and terror, she couldn’t stop the sobs from escaping, and the tears from rolling down her cheeks. At least in all the noise and confusion, the older girls might not notice, or so she could only hope. Her little coin purse she clutched in one hand, and the broken cat in the other, clinging tightly as if they were her most prized possessions, and for the moment they were. Fear had narrowed her entire world to just these few moments.
It seemed for a moment that they might be able to escape until suddenly Amarissa came to a halt and Maeri ran headlong into something in front of them. A large, terrifying man spun around to see what had hit him, looming over the group of girls. He grabbed the girls in turn and then spun them around. Maeri squeaked shrilly at the rough treatment. Another scary man in a mask in front of them demanded that they give up their purses and possessions, but Maeri clung tighter to her little purse of coins and sobbed even harder. “Mama said not to lose them,” Maeri protested. She didn’t want her mother to be disappointed in her for losing all her money with nothing to show for it.
Maeri glanced back up at Amarissa and Arela hoping that one of them might be willing to back her up. They were bigger and older, surely they’d know how to make the scary men go away. She clutched the wooden cat even tighter, she wasn’t going to give that up either.
It was clear beneath his clothes and mask that Zai was still a boy as his spindly arms and small frame were impossible to hide, but he surely looked scary to children younger and smaller than he. And they were girls to boot, raised to be more meek and demure and not cause conflict. He growled and surged forward with a threatening stance, like he'd seen his elders do in order to intimidate.
*"Mama said not to lose them."*
Was her weak reply for which Zai felt no pity. This girl had a mother, she had money. She was better off than Zai and would still be better off after he took her money. That fact alone made him want to hurt her, so there was no sympathy felt in the least.
He scoffed, "Did your mother also tell you not lose your nose and fingers too?" He snarled, "Because that's what's about to happen if I have to ask you to empty that purse again."
He took her little hand and pressed the knife up against one of her tiny little fingers so she could feel the sharpness, though he didn't break the skin. Looking up at her elder siblings, he tilted his head as if to say "well?"
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It was clear beneath his clothes and mask that Zai was still a boy as his spindly arms and small frame were impossible to hide, but he surely looked scary to children younger and smaller than he. And they were girls to boot, raised to be more meek and demure and not cause conflict. He growled and surged forward with a threatening stance, like he'd seen his elders do in order to intimidate.
*"Mama said not to lose them."*
Was her weak reply for which Zai felt no pity. This girl had a mother, she had money. She was better off than Zai and would still be better off after he took her money. That fact alone made him want to hurt her, so there was no sympathy felt in the least.
He scoffed, "Did your mother also tell you not lose your nose and fingers too?" He snarled, "Because that's what's about to happen if I have to ask you to empty that purse again."
He took her little hand and pressed the knife up against one of her tiny little fingers so she could feel the sharpness, though he didn't break the skin. Looking up at her elder siblings, he tilted his head as if to say "well?"
It was clear beneath his clothes and mask that Zai was still a boy as his spindly arms and small frame were impossible to hide, but he surely looked scary to children younger and smaller than he. And they were girls to boot, raised to be more meek and demure and not cause conflict. He growled and surged forward with a threatening stance, like he'd seen his elders do in order to intimidate.
*"Mama said not to lose them."*
Was her weak reply for which Zai felt no pity. This girl had a mother, she had money. She was better off than Zai and would still be better off after he took her money. That fact alone made him want to hurt her, so there was no sympathy felt in the least.
He scoffed, "Did your mother also tell you not lose your nose and fingers too?" He snarled, "Because that's what's about to happen if I have to ask you to empty that purse again."
He took her little hand and pressed the knife up against one of her tiny little fingers so she could feel the sharpness, though he didn't break the skin. Looking up at her elder siblings, he tilted his head as if to say "well?"
When Hazael failed to see a glimmer of recognition of his words in the stranger’s expression, he knew instantly that he had just run into someone who was not of Judean descent. The idea of scrambling away from this foreign man only struck him when he saw Kahn bend down to get a closer look at the Israeli. Of course, by then it was too late for Hazael to react and before he could do so much as cry out in protest, the man’s rough grip latched onto the child’s simlah; lifting him up off the ground. At first, Hazael had the split-second hope that the action was done out of kindness -- the odd sort that only a stranger to the doctrines of Judea could muster. However, that was dashed just as soon as his feet dangled above the ground and Kahn did not set the boy down. Instead, he brought the boy upwards far enough to gaze into the terrifying gaze of his monster.
Hazael gave a startled cry as he tried to escape the grip of the Egyptian, but Kahn’s hold was far too strong to be affected by the weak clawings and kicks from the ten-year-old. It also didn’t hurt that Hazael was completely disarmed by the irises of his temporary captor. He had the lightest gaze that little Haz had ever seen and honestly, he wasn’t even sure if milky-green orbs were even real. They looked almost ethereal in the contrast provided by Kahn’s lightly tanned skin, only further adding to Hazael’s initial assumption that the being was more beast than man. A sudden cold fear overtook Hazael as he looked into the gaze of this monster; there was just no other way for the Israeli to describe the foreign man.
This fear was what made Hazael grow almost limp in the grasp of the thief. He was just so thoroughly terrified that he could barely get his limbs to stop shaking long enough to attempt to force the man to let him go. The cold tone of Kahn’s next words only furthered heightened this -- especially as Hazael did not know the language that the man spoke in. The words may have been gibberish, but the callousness was clear as day. He seemed almost bored as he turned to one of the men to speak of the boy in his grasp and for some reason, this scared Hazael more than if he had taken joy from seeing the fear in the boy’s eyes. His actions of his older brother Tiras had long ago taught him what he needed to do to escape from those who were cruel just for the sake of it. What he didn’t know was how to handle cruelty for no clear reason. He couldn’t even think of a way to plead for his safety, especially as he knew for sure that the two of them did not speak the same language. All he could manage to do was weakly whimper as the two men regarded him as some ware in the market behind Haz.
Luckily for the boy though, the novelty of the frightened boy seemed to wear off and Kahn dropped the lad to the ground. Hazael barely had the chance to catch his footing before the Egyptian shoved him roughly to the side in order to hunt for a more profitable target in the Judean crowd. The young boy didn’t know how to react to the sudden change of events. Instead of running off in search of his mother, like any sensible, Hazael stayed rooted to the spot where he was shoved to for a moment, seemingly on the verge of tears with how his body trembled. His quest to find his friend was gone from his mind, lost in the sheer terror that had come with being tossed about like a rag doll. He didn’t want to be here anymore. He wanted to go home.
From his new vantage point on the edge of the crowd, Hazael saw the other man from earlier (the one he had abandoned in his quest to find Rivkah) draw closer from the mass of the crowd that was now beginning to react to the thieves among them. Cries of terror went up as Hazael clearly saw Amiti turn away from the danger, passing on the task of dealing with the threat to someone else. If Hazael had been more like his brother and aware of the man’s status, he may have taken offense by the man’s conscious decision not to act; but Haz was not the brute that Tiras was. He was just as much of a coward as well. Though, who's to say that he wouldn’t remember such actions in the years to come…
All thoughts of cowardice disappeared though when Amiti hurried over to the boy to ensure that he had not been harmed by the monsters in the Judean market. As the man glanced over the boy, looking for any sign of scrapes or cuts, Hazael nodded in affirmation that he was indeed alright. He may have been terrified out of his mind, but he had not been hurt beyond the light soreness from where he had hit the cobbles twice. He was incredibly lucky especially as at that very moment the two thieves were beginning to threaten the marketgoers with the sharp knives they carried.
“ Egyptian?” Hazael asked quietly as the color drained from his face when Amiti informed him of the origins of the beast, “ But they’re not supposed to be here! Not with the greeks around!” He exclaimed in astonishment, not understanding that the rare compliment he had overheard of Israel’s newest guests only applied to the armies of Egypt and not their citizens. He genuinely thought that the Taengean forces would have kept all Egyptians away, which was the only welcome thing about them with the Abrahamic country finally starting to recover from the conflict with their neighbors to the south. Even children like him understood the danger that the Egyptians posed to their culture, there was no need for the indoctrination that his own father accidentally put Hazael and his siblings through in regards to their Greecian counterparts.
The knowledge that there were Greeks and Egyptians among them was enough to send little Hazael teetering over the edge. A few solitary tears of fear leaked from his eyes, even though he was arguably the safest out of the marketgoers, given that the thieves had already deemed him as worthless. Plus, it also didn’t hurt that the man before him was a member of the Damascus manheeg. (Though Hazael had no way of knowing this.) The threat that the men’s nationalities posed was enough to outweigh the boy’s logic in this situation which was made more than clear when he managed to stutter out through the sobs racking his chest, “ They’re going to kill us aren’t they?” Nevermind the fact the thieves were only two men with knives. The fact that they were Egyptian was enough to strike mortal fear into the boy’s heart.
At the mention of reuniting the boy with his mother, Hazael reached up to wipe his tears away for a moment as he managed to sputter out, “ I don’t know where she is. I ran off with Rivkah while she helped Eema Yardena with the baby.” If Amiti was able to hear the boy through his choking sobs, he would have been able to pick up on enough clues to help him identify the structure of Hazael’s family. He had two mothers who were both here with a young toddler in tow.
It wasn’t a whole lot to go on, but something was better than nothing when it came to getting Hazael out of danger, right?
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When Hazael failed to see a glimmer of recognition of his words in the stranger’s expression, he knew instantly that he had just run into someone who was not of Judean descent. The idea of scrambling away from this foreign man only struck him when he saw Kahn bend down to get a closer look at the Israeli. Of course, by then it was too late for Hazael to react and before he could do so much as cry out in protest, the man’s rough grip latched onto the child’s simlah; lifting him up off the ground. At first, Hazael had the split-second hope that the action was done out of kindness -- the odd sort that only a stranger to the doctrines of Judea could muster. However, that was dashed just as soon as his feet dangled above the ground and Kahn did not set the boy down. Instead, he brought the boy upwards far enough to gaze into the terrifying gaze of his monster.
Hazael gave a startled cry as he tried to escape the grip of the Egyptian, but Kahn’s hold was far too strong to be affected by the weak clawings and kicks from the ten-year-old. It also didn’t hurt that Hazael was completely disarmed by the irises of his temporary captor. He had the lightest gaze that little Haz had ever seen and honestly, he wasn’t even sure if milky-green orbs were even real. They looked almost ethereal in the contrast provided by Kahn’s lightly tanned skin, only further adding to Hazael’s initial assumption that the being was more beast than man. A sudden cold fear overtook Hazael as he looked into the gaze of this monster; there was just no other way for the Israeli to describe the foreign man.
This fear was what made Hazael grow almost limp in the grasp of the thief. He was just so thoroughly terrified that he could barely get his limbs to stop shaking long enough to attempt to force the man to let him go. The cold tone of Kahn’s next words only furthered heightened this -- especially as Hazael did not know the language that the man spoke in. The words may have been gibberish, but the callousness was clear as day. He seemed almost bored as he turned to one of the men to speak of the boy in his grasp and for some reason, this scared Hazael more than if he had taken joy from seeing the fear in the boy’s eyes. His actions of his older brother Tiras had long ago taught him what he needed to do to escape from those who were cruel just for the sake of it. What he didn’t know was how to handle cruelty for no clear reason. He couldn’t even think of a way to plead for his safety, especially as he knew for sure that the two of them did not speak the same language. All he could manage to do was weakly whimper as the two men regarded him as some ware in the market behind Haz.
Luckily for the boy though, the novelty of the frightened boy seemed to wear off and Kahn dropped the lad to the ground. Hazael barely had the chance to catch his footing before the Egyptian shoved him roughly to the side in order to hunt for a more profitable target in the Judean crowd. The young boy didn’t know how to react to the sudden change of events. Instead of running off in search of his mother, like any sensible, Hazael stayed rooted to the spot where he was shoved to for a moment, seemingly on the verge of tears with how his body trembled. His quest to find his friend was gone from his mind, lost in the sheer terror that had come with being tossed about like a rag doll. He didn’t want to be here anymore. He wanted to go home.
From his new vantage point on the edge of the crowd, Hazael saw the other man from earlier (the one he had abandoned in his quest to find Rivkah) draw closer from the mass of the crowd that was now beginning to react to the thieves among them. Cries of terror went up as Hazael clearly saw Amiti turn away from the danger, passing on the task of dealing with the threat to someone else. If Hazael had been more like his brother and aware of the man’s status, he may have taken offense by the man’s conscious decision not to act; but Haz was not the brute that Tiras was. He was just as much of a coward as well. Though, who's to say that he wouldn’t remember such actions in the years to come…
All thoughts of cowardice disappeared though when Amiti hurried over to the boy to ensure that he had not been harmed by the monsters in the Judean market. As the man glanced over the boy, looking for any sign of scrapes or cuts, Hazael nodded in affirmation that he was indeed alright. He may have been terrified out of his mind, but he had not been hurt beyond the light soreness from where he had hit the cobbles twice. He was incredibly lucky especially as at that very moment the two thieves were beginning to threaten the marketgoers with the sharp knives they carried.
“ Egyptian?” Hazael asked quietly as the color drained from his face when Amiti informed him of the origins of the beast, “ But they’re not supposed to be here! Not with the greeks around!” He exclaimed in astonishment, not understanding that the rare compliment he had overheard of Israel’s newest guests only applied to the armies of Egypt and not their citizens. He genuinely thought that the Taengean forces would have kept all Egyptians away, which was the only welcome thing about them with the Abrahamic country finally starting to recover from the conflict with their neighbors to the south. Even children like him understood the danger that the Egyptians posed to their culture, there was no need for the indoctrination that his own father accidentally put Hazael and his siblings through in regards to their Greecian counterparts.
The knowledge that there were Greeks and Egyptians among them was enough to send little Hazael teetering over the edge. A few solitary tears of fear leaked from his eyes, even though he was arguably the safest out of the marketgoers, given that the thieves had already deemed him as worthless. Plus, it also didn’t hurt that the man before him was a member of the Damascus manheeg. (Though Hazael had no way of knowing this.) The threat that the men’s nationalities posed was enough to outweigh the boy’s logic in this situation which was made more than clear when he managed to stutter out through the sobs racking his chest, “ They’re going to kill us aren’t they?” Nevermind the fact the thieves were only two men with knives. The fact that they were Egyptian was enough to strike mortal fear into the boy’s heart.
At the mention of reuniting the boy with his mother, Hazael reached up to wipe his tears away for a moment as he managed to sputter out, “ I don’t know where she is. I ran off with Rivkah while she helped Eema Yardena with the baby.” If Amiti was able to hear the boy through his choking sobs, he would have been able to pick up on enough clues to help him identify the structure of Hazael’s family. He had two mothers who were both here with a young toddler in tow.
It wasn’t a whole lot to go on, but something was better than nothing when it came to getting Hazael out of danger, right?
When Hazael failed to see a glimmer of recognition of his words in the stranger’s expression, he knew instantly that he had just run into someone who was not of Judean descent. The idea of scrambling away from this foreign man only struck him when he saw Kahn bend down to get a closer look at the Israeli. Of course, by then it was too late for Hazael to react and before he could do so much as cry out in protest, the man’s rough grip latched onto the child’s simlah; lifting him up off the ground. At first, Hazael had the split-second hope that the action was done out of kindness -- the odd sort that only a stranger to the doctrines of Judea could muster. However, that was dashed just as soon as his feet dangled above the ground and Kahn did not set the boy down. Instead, he brought the boy upwards far enough to gaze into the terrifying gaze of his monster.
Hazael gave a startled cry as he tried to escape the grip of the Egyptian, but Kahn’s hold was far too strong to be affected by the weak clawings and kicks from the ten-year-old. It also didn’t hurt that Hazael was completely disarmed by the irises of his temporary captor. He had the lightest gaze that little Haz had ever seen and honestly, he wasn’t even sure if milky-green orbs were even real. They looked almost ethereal in the contrast provided by Kahn’s lightly tanned skin, only further adding to Hazael’s initial assumption that the being was more beast than man. A sudden cold fear overtook Hazael as he looked into the gaze of this monster; there was just no other way for the Israeli to describe the foreign man.
This fear was what made Hazael grow almost limp in the grasp of the thief. He was just so thoroughly terrified that he could barely get his limbs to stop shaking long enough to attempt to force the man to let him go. The cold tone of Kahn’s next words only furthered heightened this -- especially as Hazael did not know the language that the man spoke in. The words may have been gibberish, but the callousness was clear as day. He seemed almost bored as he turned to one of the men to speak of the boy in his grasp and for some reason, this scared Hazael more than if he had taken joy from seeing the fear in the boy’s eyes. His actions of his older brother Tiras had long ago taught him what he needed to do to escape from those who were cruel just for the sake of it. What he didn’t know was how to handle cruelty for no clear reason. He couldn’t even think of a way to plead for his safety, especially as he knew for sure that the two of them did not speak the same language. All he could manage to do was weakly whimper as the two men regarded him as some ware in the market behind Haz.
Luckily for the boy though, the novelty of the frightened boy seemed to wear off and Kahn dropped the lad to the ground. Hazael barely had the chance to catch his footing before the Egyptian shoved him roughly to the side in order to hunt for a more profitable target in the Judean crowd. The young boy didn’t know how to react to the sudden change of events. Instead of running off in search of his mother, like any sensible, Hazael stayed rooted to the spot where he was shoved to for a moment, seemingly on the verge of tears with how his body trembled. His quest to find his friend was gone from his mind, lost in the sheer terror that had come with being tossed about like a rag doll. He didn’t want to be here anymore. He wanted to go home.
From his new vantage point on the edge of the crowd, Hazael saw the other man from earlier (the one he had abandoned in his quest to find Rivkah) draw closer from the mass of the crowd that was now beginning to react to the thieves among them. Cries of terror went up as Hazael clearly saw Amiti turn away from the danger, passing on the task of dealing with the threat to someone else. If Hazael had been more like his brother and aware of the man’s status, he may have taken offense by the man’s conscious decision not to act; but Haz was not the brute that Tiras was. He was just as much of a coward as well. Though, who's to say that he wouldn’t remember such actions in the years to come…
All thoughts of cowardice disappeared though when Amiti hurried over to the boy to ensure that he had not been harmed by the monsters in the Judean market. As the man glanced over the boy, looking for any sign of scrapes or cuts, Hazael nodded in affirmation that he was indeed alright. He may have been terrified out of his mind, but he had not been hurt beyond the light soreness from where he had hit the cobbles twice. He was incredibly lucky especially as at that very moment the two thieves were beginning to threaten the marketgoers with the sharp knives they carried.
“ Egyptian?” Hazael asked quietly as the color drained from his face when Amiti informed him of the origins of the beast, “ But they’re not supposed to be here! Not with the greeks around!” He exclaimed in astonishment, not understanding that the rare compliment he had overheard of Israel’s newest guests only applied to the armies of Egypt and not their citizens. He genuinely thought that the Taengean forces would have kept all Egyptians away, which was the only welcome thing about them with the Abrahamic country finally starting to recover from the conflict with their neighbors to the south. Even children like him understood the danger that the Egyptians posed to their culture, there was no need for the indoctrination that his own father accidentally put Hazael and his siblings through in regards to their Greecian counterparts.
The knowledge that there were Greeks and Egyptians among them was enough to send little Hazael teetering over the edge. A few solitary tears of fear leaked from his eyes, even though he was arguably the safest out of the marketgoers, given that the thieves had already deemed him as worthless. Plus, it also didn’t hurt that the man before him was a member of the Damascus manheeg. (Though Hazael had no way of knowing this.) The threat that the men’s nationalities posed was enough to outweigh the boy’s logic in this situation which was made more than clear when he managed to stutter out through the sobs racking his chest, “ They’re going to kill us aren’t they?” Nevermind the fact the thieves were only two men with knives. The fact that they were Egyptian was enough to strike mortal fear into the boy’s heart.
At the mention of reuniting the boy with his mother, Hazael reached up to wipe his tears away for a moment as he managed to sputter out, “ I don’t know where she is. I ran off with Rivkah while she helped Eema Yardena with the baby.” If Amiti was able to hear the boy through his choking sobs, he would have been able to pick up on enough clues to help him identify the structure of Hazael’s family. He had two mothers who were both here with a young toddler in tow.
It wasn’t a whole lot to go on, but something was better than nothing when it came to getting Hazael out of danger, right?
Amiti wouldn’t have liked being thought of as a coward, but it wasn’t inaccurate. He wasn’t a fighter and knew his limitations and would have defended those to this child, if cornered. However, he didn’t know this boy’s opinion and didn’t care about it either.
”They’re going to kill us aren’t they?” Hazael whimpered.
“No,” Amiti answered, watching the retreating back of the Egyptians as his fists twisted in the fabric of the kid’s robes in order to drag him to his feet. He was relieved when Hazael didn’t fight the need to go and extra relieved when the kid wiped away his tears. Amiti had no children but he felt that a boy of ten should not be openly weeping. It was unseemly. At 21, Amiti felt he knew most things better than other people. He had not yet reached the age of maturity where he would accept that others knew more and better than he did. Sometimes even children could know more than an adult.
“No, see? They’re heading off. Now come, up, up.” The boy was crying again by the time Amiti got him to his feet. Through the tears, he managed to understand something about a baby, and something about two women. Not wanting to draw any more attention to themselves, he hustled Hazael off in the complete opposite direction. With his back turned, he didn’t see the thieves accosting children, but he couldn’t have helped even if he had. There were too many people between him and the group of girls, plus he had his own little brother to find. Amiti was by no means the only man on the street and there were any number who also weren’t assisting.
It took some doing, but eventually he got both himself and Hazael to safety, depositing the child with his mother. Shiloh, it turned out, was perfectly fine. His little brother had a mouthful of baklava that Amiti found himself having to pay for. By then the guard had the market under control and he and Shiloh returned to the safety of where they were staying in the city.
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Amiti wouldn’t have liked being thought of as a coward, but it wasn’t inaccurate. He wasn’t a fighter and knew his limitations and would have defended those to this child, if cornered. However, he didn’t know this boy’s opinion and didn’t care about it either.
”They’re going to kill us aren’t they?” Hazael whimpered.
“No,” Amiti answered, watching the retreating back of the Egyptians as his fists twisted in the fabric of the kid’s robes in order to drag him to his feet. He was relieved when Hazael didn’t fight the need to go and extra relieved when the kid wiped away his tears. Amiti had no children but he felt that a boy of ten should not be openly weeping. It was unseemly. At 21, Amiti felt he knew most things better than other people. He had not yet reached the age of maturity where he would accept that others knew more and better than he did. Sometimes even children could know more than an adult.
“No, see? They’re heading off. Now come, up, up.” The boy was crying again by the time Amiti got him to his feet. Through the tears, he managed to understand something about a baby, and something about two women. Not wanting to draw any more attention to themselves, he hustled Hazael off in the complete opposite direction. With his back turned, he didn’t see the thieves accosting children, but he couldn’t have helped even if he had. There were too many people between him and the group of girls, plus he had his own little brother to find. Amiti was by no means the only man on the street and there were any number who also weren’t assisting.
It took some doing, but eventually he got both himself and Hazael to safety, depositing the child with his mother. Shiloh, it turned out, was perfectly fine. His little brother had a mouthful of baklava that Amiti found himself having to pay for. By then the guard had the market under control and he and Shiloh returned to the safety of where they were staying in the city.
Amiti wouldn’t have liked being thought of as a coward, but it wasn’t inaccurate. He wasn’t a fighter and knew his limitations and would have defended those to this child, if cornered. However, he didn’t know this boy’s opinion and didn’t care about it either.
”They’re going to kill us aren’t they?” Hazael whimpered.
“No,” Amiti answered, watching the retreating back of the Egyptians as his fists twisted in the fabric of the kid’s robes in order to drag him to his feet. He was relieved when Hazael didn’t fight the need to go and extra relieved when the kid wiped away his tears. Amiti had no children but he felt that a boy of ten should not be openly weeping. It was unseemly. At 21, Amiti felt he knew most things better than other people. He had not yet reached the age of maturity where he would accept that others knew more and better than he did. Sometimes even children could know more than an adult.
“No, see? They’re heading off. Now come, up, up.” The boy was crying again by the time Amiti got him to his feet. Through the tears, he managed to understand something about a baby, and something about two women. Not wanting to draw any more attention to themselves, he hustled Hazael off in the complete opposite direction. With his back turned, he didn’t see the thieves accosting children, but he couldn’t have helped even if he had. There were too many people between him and the group of girls, plus he had his own little brother to find. Amiti was by no means the only man on the street and there were any number who also weren’t assisting.
It took some doing, but eventually he got both himself and Hazael to safety, depositing the child with his mother. Shiloh, it turned out, was perfectly fine. His little brother had a mouthful of baklava that Amiti found himself having to pay for. By then the guard had the market under control and he and Shiloh returned to the safety of where they were staying in the city.
Khanh yanked Amarissa’s head covering off her head and let it flutter to the ground. Usually he wasn’t this mean to children, but he was caught up in the adrenaline of the moment. Zai’s aggression fed into his, and his fed Zai’s, turning it into a cycle that was nigh impossible to break at the moment. “What do we have, what do we have,” he muttered to himself, patting his hand down Amarissa’s uninteresting body, not seeking anything but a coin purse. “Nothing useful.” Turning her loose, he grabbed up Arela. She squealed and struggled in his grip but on this child, he did find a small pouch of coin.
“Got one, Zai,” he said, his voice muffled by the fabric. “Just take her purse. The whole thing. Let’s go.” As much as he’d have loved to see the younger boy draw blood, they didn’t have the time. Guards were coming. His wish for Zai to exert violence had nothing to do with Maeri herself and everything to do with Zai’s training. If the kid was afraid to use force, then he’d find himself in trouble one day. It was Khanh’s way of being kind to the younger boy at the expense of others that Khanh cared absolutely nothing for.
“This way,” he dropped Arela back on the ground as though she was a sack of potatoes. The girl cried out, bounced, and darted away. “Zai, come on.” Khanh took hold of Zai’s shirt sleeve, gave it a sharp tug, but then let go. Zai was his own man. If he wanted to stay and get caught, so be it, but Khanh wasn’t going to stand around and wait for his own turn at the gallows.
At the far end of the street, sunlight glinted off the armor of guards who were fast approaching. Khanh melted into the crowd with the practiced ease of someone used to disappearing when necessary. He slipped into a narrow side street and peeked around the corner for Zai, intending to snatch the other boy in here with him and then the two of them would make a break for it. They would get away scott free, too, just as they usually did. All they had to do was follow this street into the next, yank off their masks, and pretend to shop. Easy. And that was exactly what they’d do.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
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Khanh yanked Amarissa’s head covering off her head and let it flutter to the ground. Usually he wasn’t this mean to children, but he was caught up in the adrenaline of the moment. Zai’s aggression fed into his, and his fed Zai’s, turning it into a cycle that was nigh impossible to break at the moment. “What do we have, what do we have,” he muttered to himself, patting his hand down Amarissa’s uninteresting body, not seeking anything but a coin purse. “Nothing useful.” Turning her loose, he grabbed up Arela. She squealed and struggled in his grip but on this child, he did find a small pouch of coin.
“Got one, Zai,” he said, his voice muffled by the fabric. “Just take her purse. The whole thing. Let’s go.” As much as he’d have loved to see the younger boy draw blood, they didn’t have the time. Guards were coming. His wish for Zai to exert violence had nothing to do with Maeri herself and everything to do with Zai’s training. If the kid was afraid to use force, then he’d find himself in trouble one day. It was Khanh’s way of being kind to the younger boy at the expense of others that Khanh cared absolutely nothing for.
“This way,” he dropped Arela back on the ground as though she was a sack of potatoes. The girl cried out, bounced, and darted away. “Zai, come on.” Khanh took hold of Zai’s shirt sleeve, gave it a sharp tug, but then let go. Zai was his own man. If he wanted to stay and get caught, so be it, but Khanh wasn’t going to stand around and wait for his own turn at the gallows.
At the far end of the street, sunlight glinted off the armor of guards who were fast approaching. Khanh melted into the crowd with the practiced ease of someone used to disappearing when necessary. He slipped into a narrow side street and peeked around the corner for Zai, intending to snatch the other boy in here with him and then the two of them would make a break for it. They would get away scott free, too, just as they usually did. All they had to do was follow this street into the next, yank off their masks, and pretend to shop. Easy. And that was exactly what they’d do.
Khanh yanked Amarissa’s head covering off her head and let it flutter to the ground. Usually he wasn’t this mean to children, but he was caught up in the adrenaline of the moment. Zai’s aggression fed into his, and his fed Zai’s, turning it into a cycle that was nigh impossible to break at the moment. “What do we have, what do we have,” he muttered to himself, patting his hand down Amarissa’s uninteresting body, not seeking anything but a coin purse. “Nothing useful.” Turning her loose, he grabbed up Arela. She squealed and struggled in his grip but on this child, he did find a small pouch of coin.
“Got one, Zai,” he said, his voice muffled by the fabric. “Just take her purse. The whole thing. Let’s go.” As much as he’d have loved to see the younger boy draw blood, they didn’t have the time. Guards were coming. His wish for Zai to exert violence had nothing to do with Maeri herself and everything to do with Zai’s training. If the kid was afraid to use force, then he’d find himself in trouble one day. It was Khanh’s way of being kind to the younger boy at the expense of others that Khanh cared absolutely nothing for.
“This way,” he dropped Arela back on the ground as though she was a sack of potatoes. The girl cried out, bounced, and darted away. “Zai, come on.” Khanh took hold of Zai’s shirt sleeve, gave it a sharp tug, but then let go. Zai was his own man. If he wanted to stay and get caught, so be it, but Khanh wasn’t going to stand around and wait for his own turn at the gallows.
At the far end of the street, sunlight glinted off the armor of guards who were fast approaching. Khanh melted into the crowd with the practiced ease of someone used to disappearing when necessary. He slipped into a narrow side street and peeked around the corner for Zai, intending to snatch the other boy in here with him and then the two of them would make a break for it. They would get away scott free, too, just as they usually did. All they had to do was follow this street into the next, yank off their masks, and pretend to shop. Easy. And that was exactly what they’d do.