MIDAS

The view was saddening to say the least; the groaning and muffled cries could be heard from afar, reaching almost up to the boy. With every slice of meat he ate, chewing became harder. With time, the old man turned to the table, with shaky fingers, lifting off the metal plate covering his face, his hollowed, loosly hanging cheeks marking his old age. He stretched to reach the basket of bread on the table, a dry sigh escaping him before he finally grabbed a hold onto the crumbly bread.

Midas wasn't able to look any of the two into the eye, as he was unsure of why exactly he hadn't stood amongst these people. Silently chowing down onto the spiced slice of meat, as the old man began to quaggle, his annoyed tone directed to the man, yet his critical sight focused on the boy. His hand shaking and directing wildly towards him, then Alma, seemingly directed without any real thought behind it, Midas was for sure not the only one who was supriced by the fact that a prisoner like him was walking around with such a man as Alma.

"Jihid.." Alma's tone was composed, yet it slipped through some kind of frustration, an undertone hidden behind his usual soft way of speaking. The old man stopped talking, still seemingly unpleased by the fact he was lunching at the same table as a prisoner; his loud preaching put stress on the boy as he hung his head lower, hiding his hand he ate with under the other set of fingers he had. Quiet again, with the old man combing through his grayish beard, Alma filled up one of the empty cups with what seemed to be some dark brown liquid. After refilling not only his but the old man's cup, he let Midas have a drink of his very own as well.

Nodding at the boy once again, with his brows slightly stressed, he ensured Midas once again to take a drink out of the cup as he raised his clay cup, only two fingers resting on it as Alma held it to the air, before drinking some of it. Midas joined, opting to not follow his motion completely, as the old man hadn't done so as well. Getting a whiff of the liquid, the boy was hit with the aroma of multiple herbs, and as he drunk from the cup, their bitter taste got stuck onto his tongue. It took a while to get used to it; Midas wasn't able to fully empty the cup in a fast manner as the other two of them did. 

"Sarbahrm Na'av, Jihid." Alma spoke; after they had waited for a while, the can of the herb liquid emptied. The old man raised his right hand at the both of them as the boy gripped onto the palm of Alma, ready to leave. As they headed towards the stairs, Midas couldn't help but look to the last row of stairs leading up to the walls surrounding the main building in the middle. Some of the rays the setting sun gave off hit onto the last few steps it would take to see what was on the top. 

Without noticing Midas stopping slightly, Alma took the first few steps down; Midas had to wait before he could enter. Going around the actual building, as they walked down the floors that were built like balconies, hanging off a cliff or giant wall, the walkway forced them to always loop around the building's facade, from which they had an open view onto the wide space, cutting off the main building from the walls and the tinier side building they were walking around. From a distance, the boy took a glimpse of the chain of imprisoned men, women, and children entering the fort's gate, probably never leaving once again.

As he walked past some of the guards taking a break, watching the scene unfold with the boy at the same time while leaning onto the mud wall, saving them from accidently falling, Midas couldn't help but wonder why exactly so many people were stored here. Was the state he found himself in at war? Perhaps they captured foreign invaders to use them as slaves of some sort? Who exactly were these people—those who roam the same pathways and buildings, who enter and leave from the same doors Alma had used? Were these people really invaders? Or normal citizen of some sort? 

Midas' worry thickened once again as Alma sat him down onto the same chair he sat on after Alma brought him out of his cell. Without any word, the boy quietly observed him stroking his beard while looking down onto a pile of books and loosely stored papers, observing the stacked, dated books from multiple angles as he silently murred, possibly searching for a book. Stopping abruptly in his step, he locked his sight onto one of the books, struggling to grab it without any books that were laid on top, falling off the stack.

Alma stood on his side, to the right of him, as he placed down the book. Its inscription looked unfamiliar, much different from the text that had been put on the papers surrounding Midas' seat. The book symbols seemed much more thin, not as blocky in shape as the symbols of the papers that were facing the opposite side of the table. Alma began to open the book, page by page searching around the rugged paper, as his murmur became slightly more noticeable. 

The boy's eyes widened as he whitened the man's fingers, switching from one map to another, marking paths, regions, and lands that seemed completely unfamiliar to him, finally being able to stretch his vision beyond the clay wall surrounding him, even though these were simple depictions, rough maps of what probably was the dessert he aimlessly wandered around. His finger stopped onto a page depicting the lower end of some larger landmass, probably the continent Midas was somehow transported onto; he couldn't tell for sure, as the maps were depictions of tinier parts of the land he stood on. 

The finger tapped onto one of the four red dots and smeared onto the map, most likely after the book was made, as some sort of text was smudged under the red paint. "Maeq o' Hij'Shama." the man tapped onto the dated paper as he spoke with a tough tone. Midas looked up to him, his finger pointing to the door, in the direction of the main building. "Maeq o.. Shama..?" he raised one of his brows as he looked back onto the man, searching for his awnser. Met with a nod, Alma continued, his finger pointing to the dot near the west coast of whatever landmass the Fort was on.

"Maeq o Hij'Alain." The next was right on the coast of the tip of the pointed land, resting nearby what seemed to be some bigger lake. "Maeq o Hij'Dafaq," he mumbled to the boy. His finger twitched slightly, curling up before landing onto the last dot, "Maeq o'Jashae." His voice sounded slightly deeper, somehow tainted with regret. Midas couldn't fully wrap around the different names, instead focusing on what they had in common. Probably being forts like this one or at least similar to whatever he was brought to. The boy could only wonder why exactly Alan decided to show him these, but asking him directly would prove quite difficult.

The boy couldn't hide his yawn, the walking, the sudden encapturement, his lost feeling of time. All of these things seemed to add up, amplified by the calming orange tone of the candlelight. Alma began to hick of amusement, shortly exclaiming a dim tone of laughter. Straightening his back, he held out his hand towards the boy. Midas had grown supportive of the fact to stay by Alma's side, hoping for him to not have any part in the imprisonment of these people. He followed him up the stairs.

Alma shoved the door open. The dorm was small, but enough for the boy to rest in. Over him, he could dimly hear the tone of steps sounding down from the mud roof. Judging by the dust that had settled on the table, Midas was sure that the room he would sleep in must've been abandoned by its owner a long time ago. The bearded man took a look at the boy as he helped himself onto the thin rug made out of braided grass. Softly crunching under the weight of the boy's body, he made himself comfortable, looking up to Alma again, before shutting his eyes for good.

"Sarbahrm Na'av, na'vide hebrat.. Midas." He crouched down to the boy, looking at him with opportunism hidden in his sight, as he watched the boy fall asleep at a rapid pace. The room darkening, as the sun faded more and more away from the windows' frame, Alma turned once again, looking to the boy, before shutting the room's door.