“You finally made it Atjani. You're finally in Lam Lathi.”
My green eyes take in the sights around me. I hated Lam Lathi, but this was grand. The whole city had a history that was as stubborn as I was. The whole place was made of stone with buildings coated in layers of dark obsidian. The structures seemed to pull their darkness upward to the shingled roofs, which were covered with elegant human statues. I take a look around me.
On every rooftop were thick, navy-blue tiles with fixated statues of copper and precious metals. Poses of authority, slender bodies, air-thin robes, and romanticized hair flowed against the horizon. Every statue had a romanticized and sexual pose that meant something only a Ryoken slang girl would recognize. Yet, no rooftop statue was grander than the statue that dominated the city’s center.
My eyes narrow and I take a few steps forward to get a better view of a looming statue in the distance. A horse’s mane shimmers like hematite over a black horse with an elegant dark finish. A simple helm, curve-bladed spear, and flowing scarf rest confidently over the stone rider. His sculpted bandanna covered his war cry in painted colors. Onyx hands grip the metal reigns that command his stallion to its hind legs. The horse's front hooves raise high above a woman’s kneeling body, covering her face with her smooth bronze hands. It was the lustrous statue of a dancer girl.
The view struck my eyes again and again.
“I wish Melinal was catching this view with me. As much as we hated Lam Lathi, she would have kissed my cheek for the memory.”
I listen to water trickle. I feel it drip on me and I take another look.
Curved roofs held days-old runoff and served as an umbrella for those who walked beneath them and on the balconies. They formed charcoal shadows on the faces below me. The scattered stonework of the wall mosaics made the many shadows dance from the torches in the streets. It was the distinctness of Lam Lathi wind chimes that made the buildings feel alive. I heard it all around me like music against stone.
I put down my binoculars. Some import I bought from Neandeleria. I pick them up again read the inscription beneath the giant statue.
“They call her the land of the ‘Broken Sun’ because the mountain passes are so immense they divide the sunrise without mercy. Here, our women wear their tribal belts with the same fires of a hellish sunset and run their fingers over their metallic tribal names as if they were washing them of sin. Yet, here in Lam Lathi, the day has just begun. Light has shined down from the heavens onto our rising empire and our city called Lam Lathi; and our mountains have coated it with midnight blue.”
I put down my binoculars.
“What a load of propaganda,” I mutter in my head.
I walk back inside. I had to take up my position with the others soon. I needed the money and there was an exchange that was about to be hijacked by us. The split would be even. I was getting my fair share no matter what.
I wait patiently. Probably one of the few times I enjoyed it.
Down below me, I eavesdrop on a meeting between two Lam Lathi scum.
A woman with too much red eyeliner comes out, worn as a effect to mock the blood Lam Lathi had spilled. A tight leather corset moves with her steps and scarf, with heavy buckles keeping her boots unflinching below her miniskirt and exposed upper thighs. There was just enough to see, to desire the mystery behind it all.
The woman's dirty brown eyes shine with the intelligence and cleverness that was only native to Lam Lathi women. Below her naked shoulders. her arm-sleeves traveled all the way to her hands, cutting off at the palm. Her arms were covered in ribbon cords dangling with prestige and influence. She had a chain of seven tempests hanging from her hips. Maturity had done more than accentuate her looks. It had given her the confidence and allure of a mature Lam Lathi messenger.
“Ok. That must be Alana Eloise...” I think “She has a killer body and vibe. Too bad she's on the wrong side. Age 27 is a bad time to lose yourself.” I continue watching everyone.
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Alana traveled with an entourage. They were completely consumed by her influence, including the several Lam Lathi soldiers who refused to follow anyone, but her. Experience had taught her well. I move my view to another approaching. I take a nice good look.
A man shows up. He looked clever, but wore a cloak. I couldn't understand what he was doing, but he was meeting Alana on his terms. He knew something that my possessor being told me about.
“Ok. That's Narassi Esara. He's the one who's going to sell what he knows,” I think.
I listen carefully as the two approach each other. Narassi speaks first.
“Does such a famed messenger have no sense of safety?”
“Trust me. I’m right where I need to be,” Alana answers, facing Narassi. She takes him in, observing every manner of his psyche. Alana's hair curls and bends against her messenger's bag and equipment, becoming long and slightly wavy, as she drops her bag to the ground. She kicks it to the side and sits on it, very aware Narassi was watching her. She runs her hands down her leg and to the bag she was sitting on, as if that was her intention all along. A zipper is undone with two curling fingers, denoting the “pleasure” could be had within a simple touch.
“I have what you want,” states Narassi gripping a paper slip with black writing. A small vial of ink is held in the same hand, reading to smash itself open if something were to go wrong. It would ruin whatever writing was on the slip.
Alana runs her eyes all across Narassi before she speaks.
“I have what you want too,” she smirks. Alana touches her body with the gesture for “intimacy” before reaching toward her bag. Alana feels her way passed the fabric of her bag as if it were a man's tight shirt to be unbuttoned, or two fingers slipping inside her. Maybe, it even meant “jealousy” like when two fingers slid down the tongue with spite.
“Stupid slang girls....they sexualize everything.....” I mutter in thought.
Alana pulls out another long string of shiny tempest chains from her bag. Her hands play with the jingle for a while. Alana lets Narassi take in the threat of her influence. She had way more than seven tempests.
Alana smiles. Her gesture for “intimacy” was closing aligned with the word for “threat.” She had blended them seamlessly, letting the fantasy play on Narassi's mind. She played herself well, making sure Narassi wasn't quite sure of what to think. There was always a mind game and subtle double meaning. Alana's eye contact was always anticipating Narassi's. Her whole body moved in rhythm - a reaction to his own. Her body was manipulative and a living dance.
“I have the exact location of The Far Away Dream. The large one in Cepertine,” sneers Narassi.
“The real thing, or just a fragment?” asks Alana intriguingly. She looks at Narassi from the corner of her eyes. Her interest seemed to be only him, but it could easily be lost if he didn't provide what satisfied her. She knew he would, though.
“The real thing. I just don't have the means to get it myself,” Narassi pauses. “I do have the means to trade for its capture. My map is in code,” he smirks. Narassi opens up part of his note from the distance, letting the tempests verify its legitimacy and return to Alana. They possess Alana abruptly and she slightly arches her back. Then, they release her slowly of the tension. Alana breathes in deeply. Alana wipes the silver smear around her eyes.
“Well, well, Narassi. I'm very proud of you. You are a genius. I love it. Your accomplishments speak well of you. I rarely get to negotiate with real men.”
Narassi looks at Alana.
“Where's the gold you promised? I want it and my safe delivery.”
“Don't worry, Narassi. I have been very faithful to you, and to you alone. You have your requirements. I enjoy fulfilling them. You suit me well. I want nothing more than your happiness.” Alana motions smoothly to her invisible tempests to do her will. Moments later, soldiers run out from the buildings carrying several large chests. The drop them with a harsh sound, and kick them open. They were filled to the brim with gold coins. Alana smiles at the small army of her own. They were ready to keep her word.
“All this?” questions Narassi.
“That's more gold than I ever dreamed of! She couldn't really be giving it all to him?” I gasp.
Alana smirks. She speaks softly “Name your price, Narassi. You can take as much from me as you desire. I'll let you taste it all.....”
Alana grabs a single gold coin. She approaches Narassi calmly and he remains unsure. She looks at him, tilting her head back slightly in curiosity. She makes eye contact through the bottoms of her eyes, as if to test him. Alana gently places the coin at his lips.
“Taste. See that what I offer is real,” Alana smirks. She backs away anticipating his reaction.
Narassi bites the gold. He smiles. I could tell by his nodding.
“Very well. I'll take it all.”
Narassi walks to hand the note to Alana, However, he never gets the chance to.
I lift up the navy blue tiles beneath me and pull out a hidden rifle. I step forward on the rooftop and motion quietly with the others. We move in unison and in silence. Careful observation would have discovered that many of the rooftop statues weren't statues at all. They were people spying on the conversation below.
I look below and hold Alana at gunpoint. My aim switches to the paper in Narassi's hand and back to her. I shout down at them with a grin
“How about I take it all, instead!”
The two look up to me, very aware they would die if they made the wrong move. We had them both hostage from afar. It felt great. It was time to execute our plan. A gunshot goes off.