Chapter Text
“Ughh, you won again Arad!”
King Enmerkar threw down his dice as he grabbed his head in frustration.
“I haven’t won once since we’ve begun playing. I know the other slaves said you were good but I didn’t expect you to be this good!”
“Well,” the young boy said while packing up the board game, “you are getting better my Lord. You had me on my toes for the second half of the round.”
The king smiled, “that was a good attempt at making me feel better Arad, but it doesn’t change the fact that you're completely obliterating me with a score of 374 to 0.”
Arad let out a light chuckle, finally beginning to feel comfortable around his majesty.
“Don’t worry my Lord, you will definitely get much better one day.”
“If I keep playing with you, I know I’ll get better,” he stood up and brushed the dirt off his clothes,” also, don’t call me that! It's too formal.”
Arad looked up at his majesty, confusion clear on his face.
“Then...what should I call you?”
He put a finger on his chin. His sun-kissed feet gripping the brownish soil as he paced around thinking of a nickname for Arad to call him.
“Hmm,” he wondered,” what should you call me?... I don’t know,” he sat back down, “do you have any ideas, Arad?”
It only took a few seconds for him to think of the perfect nickname for his new friend.
Clearly, he had a talent for nicknames.
The King looked his way and gestured for him to speak.
“Since you’re the first friend I’ve ever had, how about Anpa . To represent the peak I’ve reached in my life because of you.”
He stopped his pacing and stared at Arad, eyes twinkling with pride.
Arad quickly spun on his heel and walked to the door, “I’m sorry for that your majesty. That was uncalled for. I shouldn't have—”
Before he could even finish his statement, the King responded, “that’s perfect.”
“What?”
He got up and walked over to Arad, a smile ever-present on his face and some tears trickling down his face, “I think it's the perfect nickname.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
###
“Hey, your Maje-, I mean, Anpa! You there?” Arad called into the chambers, but all he could hear was his voice echoing back at him.
“I’m coming in okay?” he stepped through the ox hide covering and gasped at the sight before him.
Scrolls of papyrus were torn, scrunched up, and thrown around with cracked and crumbling clay tablets laying all over the floor of the room.
He continued inspecting the area until he found something concerning.
He reached down and rubbed the dark red substance that was splattered all over some spare tablets onto his fingers.
He slowly brought the liquid to his nose and sniffed it, a metallic scent running through his nostrils.
“This is...blood?!”
Leaving the game guide he wrote for his friend on the dirt floor, he quickly stood and ran out of the room.
###
He sprinted through the palace corridors, kicking up dirt wherever he went. Many of the wealthy class made mental notes to punish the vile slave boy later.
He checked all the doors.
His skin was covered in dirt and tears brimming in his eyes.
Don’t cry. I know he’s fine, just don’t cry.
He stopped in front of his master’s chambers, hoping to see if he knew anything.
The room was dark, even though it was mid-day, the window coverings were drawn.
“Master? Are you in there? Do you know where his majesty is? I went to his chambers early but all I found was-“
His master got up from where he was sitting. Slowly walking over towards the young slave boy.
Suddenly, a strange feeling started overcoming Arad’s entire body.
He’s seen this exact scene thousands of times, so how come now it felt different?
Apprehension and dread settled snugly into the folds of his stomach. Eyes losing their focus as he concentrated on the strange feeling.
His sixth sense blared off like a fire alarm in his head.
It wasn’t until he refocused on his master, did he realize he was in trouble.
All he could remember was being thwacked by his master with a club and passing out as his head bounced off the ground.
From then on, he’ll learn to trust his gut instinct. It always leads to disaster when that feeling is ignored.
###
He woke up to a faint musty smell invading his nostrils.
He looked around, doing his best to take in the setting before him while grogginess took over.
It was dark but the natural sunlight shone through a small circular hole in the wall.
Trying to stand up, Arad fell back to the ground as he felt some sort of object provide resistance to his efforts.
Ox hide restraints, protruding from the walls and the ground, were wrapped around his arms and legs.
“What the fuck?” he questioned out loud as he tried yanking the restraints from the wall.
“What... the f-fuck... indeed, A-Arad,” the dry heaving severely impacting his verbal communications.
Arad froze.
Wait a second. I know that voice!
He whipped his head around and was shocked at the sight before him.
The King, Anpa, was in a similar situation to Arad. He, too, was restrained by ox hide. The only difference being he was beaten black and blue.
A busted lip and head lacerations spilled blood all over his face. More lacerations and abrasions all over his arms, legs, and feet. Platelets and fibrins working overtime to try and stop the bleeding.
“M-My Lord!” he shrieked, “What has happened to you!?”
The older man winced at the noise.
“Ahh...Arad. P-Please, lower y-your voice, it’s giving m-me a headache.”
He bowed his head in apology.
“Also, wh-what did I t-tell you about c-calling me by my n-nickname, A-Anpa?”
“B-But sir! This situation is-“
The king held up his hand as far as possible and Arad knew to stop arguing.
“Well, well, well. What do we have here? The spineless king and his dirty little slave boy.”
Arad looked up, he couldn’t believe what he saw.
Dressed top to bottom in gold pieces and diamonds, his master, Amnanu, stood there smirking devilishly. Alongside him stood another man, someone Arad’s never seen before.
“M-Master!? What's going on? Where are we-“
A knife was lodged into his arm.
Before he could even register enough to scream, he was being gagged by the unknown man and his former master hollered.
“I want to see you suffer Arad! So,” he stepped up and yanked out the knife, “you can watch as I kill his majesty.”
What the fuck is going on!
“HMMMPH MMMPHH!!” was all that could be heard as the metallic knife cut through the Anpa’s trachea and crimson blood flew out like a fountain, dousing everything and everyone in the crimson liquid.
###
Arad struggled against the iron grip Amnanu had on his shoulder.
He’s dead.
“Now now Arad. All you have to do is renounce your loyalty to the former king and pledge your loyalty to me. Do this simple act and you’ll be free to go.”
He looked down at his friend’s lifeless body, blood still seeping out of the wound.
He curled his fists, anger flowing through him.
“I couldn't care less about what you have to say!” he yelled.
Amnanu sighed, “well that’s rather disap-”
Splat.
“It’ll be a bright day in Kur before I ever betrayed him!”
Arad’s saliva dripped down Amnanu’s cheek and onto his neck.
An all-encompassing rage flew through the man, how dare a filthy slave spit on him!
He stepped up to Arad, plunged his knife deep into Arad's belly, and then dragged it in a semi-circular motion.
Letting the contents of his digestive system fall onto the floor as he gagged and his eyes darkened.
Amnanu scrunched his nose at the smell, unzipped his pants, and began to relieve his bladder on top of the corpse.
###
He looked down upon the city, unbothered by what he saw.
The mountain tops were a nice vantage point if you wanted to watch the commotion.
His desert-colored cloak swayed in the wind.
“It’s been a while, Uruk. 2,000 years to be exact.”
It was in shambles. Invasions occurring left and right while citizens tried to escape. Yelling and screaming reverberated across the lands as blood splattered against buildings and children were kidnapped.
He sighed, “I’m sorry Anpa. Goodbye.”
He turned around and walked into the sunset. The beginning of his new hellish life awaiting him.
“-ey -ugou! -ake up!”
“What the hell?”
He clenched onto the sides of his head, a migraine reverberating throughout his skull. His knees dug into the sand as he braced against the waves of pain.
“-kugou! Wake up!”
“What the fuck...”
“BAKUGOU!