Bloodlines of Archaea I. Afira

“Afi, Afi, wake up.” Akuma said, shaking my shoulders. I moaned and sat up, looking around. We were in a tiny mud cell, with iron bars. Outside the bars, was a long hallway made of clay, decorated with torches.

“Tat do oo rember?” I asked, standing up, clumsily. “I tink they chot me twithe.” I touched the spot on my thigh, deep pain shot up my spine. I winced and fell to the floor. I laughed in pain, as I realized how I sounded.

Akuma chuckled quietly, then said, “I only remember being shot once. It hit my shoulder.”

“Why can oo talk nomary?” I asked, annoyed by own slowness to regain the ability to speak normally.

“Probably because they shot you twice. Also, maybe because I have been awake longer.” He said, smiling toothily.

“Don laff at me.” I said, gruffly.

“Just wait. It’ll be back. I mean, obviously we have time, he said, gesturing to the cell.” I sat back, wondering why Akuma suddenly had no care for the amount of time this has taken.

Eventually, my speech returned, and I could once more say what I meant to say, without speaking like my tongue didn’t move. I looked back at Akuma, realizing he had his sword back.

“Why do you suppose they gave you Maktu’s sword back?” I asked suspiciously, knowing Akuma would politely correct me, saying that the blade was actually his father’s.

Akuma stared across the room at me, seeming unsure of what to say next, then, glancing down at his side and looked up at me with uneasy eyes. “Um, maybe they forgot to take it?” He said, his voice shaking.

I became uneasy, realizing that whoever I was sitting in a cell with, was not Akuma. I stared into the eyes of the impostor, saying “I remember very clearly that your sword dropped to the ground before they dragged you off.”

The fake Akuma looked at me, carefully, then said casually, “maybe your memory is wrong,” before glancing around the room nervously.

I stood up, looking down at the impostor Akuma, bringing up all of my confidence to say, “what is your name?”

He looked up at me, nervously, saying “what do you mean? I’m Akuma.”

I grabbed his hand and stood up, looking him in the face saying, “I’m going to ask you one more time, and don’t you lie to me. What is your name?” I said, staring into his glassy eyes.

“My-my name? You want my name?” I nodded. “My name is Pepelo.”

“Now, Pepelo, why and how do you look like my friend Akuma?” I asked, letting go of his arm.

“It’s my job to spy on people. I’m supposed to get them to tell me their secrets, I then report back to my queen, who decides whether or not they would be useful to have around. You see, I too was captured a while ago, and my queen decided to keep me for my… talents.” He said, closing his eyes. Akuma’s face melted away, revealing that of a scaly lizard. The scales were a bright spring-green, with yellow dotted scales once in a while across his entire body. His eyes darted around the room, nervously in opposite directions.

“Clearly the talents of which you speak are not being a convincing deceptor. Now, do you know where my Akuma is?” I asked, calmly.

He thought for a moment, then said, “he should be in a cell nearby. I would guess the queen is having my friend, Kanoa be you.”

“Thank you,” I said, standing up, and moving to the front of the room towards the iron bars.

He jumped up at me knocking me to the ground, yelling, “wait, I can’t let you leave!”