One Thousand and One Nights

v

The dungeons were just as Scheherazade had imagined; dark and drowning in a putrid smell that carried a hint of metal.

Were the bodies hidden there? Scheherazade wondered. Did they bury the girls or did they treat the corpses like garbage?

The questions flooding her brain were more out of curiosity than any other sentiment. She wanted to know how these people worked and how corrupt they really were.

The staircase ended at the mouth of a hallway. There were writings on the walls similar to those in the round room and they were just as vague, but this time, she could make out the words blood and power repeated over and over like a prayer.

She found the first guard in front of a metal door, his back against the wall and his eyes looking around in a bored manner.

Darkness reigned behind the open door, but Scheherazade decided to worry about that after she somehow managed to get past the guard.

However, the soldiers were loyal to the king despite his monstrous nature, and she had no doubt that anything strange would be reported to him. He was too careful to allow anything to slip away.

Before Scheherazade could think of anything else, the guard straightened up and a figure appeared past the door, his strides wide and quick.

"Akhi," He whispered, his face still in the darkness but his fingers wrapped around an iron bar tightly. There was nothing on his skin, no scars and no rings that could help her identify him in the future, even his voice was barely intelligible.

The guard looked around warily, failing to spot Scheherazade peeking from around the corner.

"The king will be here tonight to...meet with the prisoner." The anonymous man continued. "Tell our brothers to be careful of their behavior."

The guard nodded. "Do not fret, I will warn them. Is there anything else that you want?"

"No, that's all." The man paused. "Power to justice, brother."

Something in Scheherazade's mind clicked as the man left and the guard went back to his previous position.

Jamal had told her the same thing when he had met her in the garden, back when he was convincing her to join the rebellion.

Perhaps the king was not that powerful, after all, and the revolution was beginning to compel his men one by one.

Scheherazade moved hesitantly until she was close enough to the guard to be seen. His eyes widened with panic and he looked around, as if to see if anybody else was spying on him.

"Y-your majesty, I did not know you were here."

"I did not mean to eavesdrop, but I heard your conversation."

The look in his eyes was one of pure horror.

She scratched her forearm in a nervous manner, trying to act as scared as the guard.

"I'm from the rebellion too." She whispered. "There's no need to feel threatened by me. I just want to help end this misery."

"But you're..." The guard trailed off.

Scheherazade knew what he was going to say. But you're the queen. Perhaps he thought that being on top of the hierarchy meant being happy and satisfied.

Even she, a girl who had spent her youth in a brothel, knew that it was never that easy.

"I need your help. I believe that the prisoner you caught yesterday could be of great help to us, but he won't be much use if he's dead."