Hey guys! A new story!! I know I've been neglecting you and such and I should concentrate on my other stories, but don't worry, I'll try to write more!! This story is written by Sebastian Osprey and me, all characters and places and such are made up by us and are completely ours. (a little side note: This story takes place in the old Middle East, you know, genies, harems, sultans...) Enjoy! Read and Review!!!

Chapter 1

--

Airen

-

The wind blows my bangs out of my face. It's amazing how warm it can be in a desert. I grab my waterbottle and take a sip, still walking.

“Airen, stop drinking! You'll finish it before we even reach the oasis!”

I put it away and grin.

“What can I do? I'm thirsty!”

Carmina turns around and walks towards me with a crazy grin on her face. I back off and stand still in a weird stance. Carmina giggles and I grin. The others look at us with amused eyes. Suddenly she yanks my waterbottle outta my belt and runs away. Sigh, I don't wanna run! I just look at my old companion and childhoodfriend and smile. She and I were inseperable since birth. I guess you could say we were even closer than twins! I hear a cry of joy. I force my legs to run and I run towards the voice. After a minute or five, I finally reach the place where the sound came from. My face twists in a huge smile and I quickly begin to refil my bottle with the water in the oasis Carmina found. After awhile, the others from our traveling group join us and we all take the oppurtunity to bathe.

“And how did you find this oasis, Carmina?”

Carmina looks up and smiles at me.

“I threw the bottle and it 'Splash'ed!!”

The cool evening wind gently dries my moist head and I close my eyes. I let my body fall onto the sand, still warm from the day. Without opening my eyes I talk.

“You are a crazy yet lucky creature, Carmina.”

My eyes are closed, but I can almost feel her grin.

“You know me so well!”

My mouth curls up and I feel the last pieces of my consiousness fade away in the soothing darkness of the night.

-

The colours red and yellow are dancing around me.

The gracefull movements linked together with the feelings of the story and the dancers and all that adorned by the beautiful colours of their clothes. A little boy looks at the dancers in awe. The little one tries to stand and dance along, but his little legs aren't strong enough to carry him, as he is still only a year old.

One of the dancers, a lady with long, flowing black hair and purple-gray eyes, smiles and walks to him. She gently picks him up and dances with him in her slender arms. The boy laughs out loud with joy and clings onto his mother. Her smile widens and swirls her little treasure around with the grace of a bird, soaring in the sky.

The music ends and the spell is broken. The mother puts her son down and takes his hand. They walk to the ballroom of the palace, because the mother has to perform infront of the king. The little boy sits down and the mother stands infront of the throne, in her most gracefull stance and greets the King and Queen.

Her dance begins and I feel a strong feeling of recognition. I glance at the little boy and I see his face in utter awe as he looks at his mother. His unusual eye-colour makes me realize.

The little boy's silver eyes widen in excitement and I realize that he is me. The little boy is me in my earliest years of excistance.

Suddenly I hear a shout and my head snaps to the noise. An arrow bursts through the window and shatters the glass. The deadly weapon flies through the air and smuthers the ground with the blood of a dancer. The mother threw herself infront of the arrow so that the Queen could live. The little boy shouts out to his mother as she collapses. The King and Queen run away and leave the woman who saved thier lives.

The little boy runs to his mother and grabs her slender hand in his little ones. He kisses the hand three times and his tears wash away the dust on her face. He feels her body cool off while his surroundings heat up. The little boy looks up as the smell of smoke evades his nose and sees the flames.

The colours red and yellow are dancing around me, but I do not feel the joy of thier dance.

-

“...ren! Airen!”

My eyes snap open and I see Carmina's face. She grins and offers me her hand.

“Rise and shine! It's a few hours until the city and we'll be able to reach it before it gets hot!”

I smile and stand up. I pat the sand offa my pants and collect my stuff.

“Airen! We'll leave you behind!!!”

“Oka, okay, keep our pants on!”

I run towards my friends and punch Gealdon, Carmina's brother, in his back and grin. Gealdon grins back and I point at Carmina.

“Unbelievable that she's your sis, you're calm and smart and she's dumb and she can't sit still!”

“Hey!! I heard that!”

I grin at Carmina.

“I know!”

And our journey continues with laughter and puns.

-

The sun shines in my eye and I shield it from the burning beams. I smirk and shout out:

“It's the city! I can see it!”

Everyone looks in the direction I point and also see the palace, sticking out. We all increase our pace and within 15 minutes or so, we finally reach our goal. We stand at the gates and the guards stare at us.

“Who's there? Friend or foe?”

Gealdon takes out a piece of paper.

“Friend, we're travelers and performers, we also have a message for the king!”

One of the guards comes down and look at the seal, he gives a sign to the guards and they open the gates.

“Welcome in Quaelia, the home of our beloved king and queen!”

We walk through the vast gates. The scenery is just like I thought it would be! Everywhere you look, you just see wealth! With the occasional poor man, of course.

The houses are decorated with paint and such, making the whole city be colourful. The tents, in which the merchants sell their goods, are made of very durable material and it doesn't have any holes!

Caira, the one playing the flute, takes out his beloved instrument and sits beside Gealdon, he is holding his sistrum, the leading instrument for a good beat.

Dyad starts playing his Cymblas, the instrument most common for belly-dancing in Egypt, and everyone, except Deliw, begins to play his instrument.

Carmina begins her dance (a very tempting belly-dance) and a crowd begins to form around us. A few girls look curiously at me, since I'm the only one doing nothing, not even having an instrument in my hands.

The music slowly gets softer and when it is almost gone, Deliw begins to play her harp and I stand up, my body moving gently on the music that flows from her hands.

The music gets louder, more upbeat, faster!

My movements follow after the music, my hips sway on the gentle, yet energetic melody and my whole body moves without a pause, tempting the females, daring the males.

I'm not taking the time to look, but I know Carmina is doing the same, but she's tempting the males and daring the females.

I turn around and Carmina turns also. Our hands link together and our hips touch as we dance our alluring dance. We both push and pull eachother, still in harmony with the music.

The eyes of the crowd are locked on us, they are captivated by us!

My hands let go of Carmina's and, while hers are dancing in the air, my hands follow the contours of her body, going down and rest on her hips. She lays her hands on my shoulders and we lead eachothers movements.

I smirk and open my mouth and sing the lyrics:

“Even though you may seem unreachable,

level headed and oh so feeble,

Can't keep her tongue

And oh so fun.

Your beauty is unspeakable!”

Carmina's lips part and she sings her part right after me:

“Although I want to keep you away,

I can't ignore and my heart sways,

I cannot see a life without you,

Because your moves are so true!

Don't leave, I want you to stay!”

And our voices join together for the last part:

“Never, ever, go away.

Do not let our bond break!

Let us be together,

together always!”

Deliw took her guitar instead of her harp during the few seconds she didn't need to play and now she's playing an upbeat melody on it which one could never pull of on a harp. Our pace quickens and Carmina and I part, dancing close without touching eachother. We sing one last lyric at the absolute peak:

“Let us be together, always!”

And the music stops, the spell undone.

Carmina walks to the males and I to the females. I glance at Carmina, she takes one of the layers that hides her chest and presents it to the men, she is wearing enough to not show anything though.

I bow slightly and take of the hat, that stayed on my head during the whole dance. I present it to the ladies and girls and they give me all kinds of payment as token of their appreciation: Gold, silver, jewelleries, food, fabric, underwear?! And other stuff.

I bow and smile at the women to show them my thanks and they seem to be very happy with it.

Carmina links her arm with mine and we walk away, waving at the crowd, smiling widely.

“Bye, bye, may we see eachother again!”

And our whole group walks further into the city, to find a good inn so we can wash ourselves and spend the night, so we can be presentable when we go to the palace tommorow.

--

I stare at the new set of clothing Gealdon just gave to me. A red shirt made of a light, see-through material and pants with the same colour, the fabric looks the same, but the pants are not see-through (luckily!!). I saw Carmina's clothing too, it was yellow. We're gonna dance a continuing dance, we're gonna slide, jump, dance like flames do. Like flames do.

The colour red and yellow are dancing around me.

They dance and dance, destroying everything on their path.

Mommy!

“Airen! What are ya staring off for? Come on, we're waiting for you!”

I snap outta the trance I was in and grin at Dyad.

“Okay, I'll change and come, you go already! I know I'm hot but I don't swing that way!”

Dyad punches my arm and leaves.

“Just hurry up!”

The door closes and I put on the clothes without a second thought. I change the black cloth hiding my right-eye for a red one and stare into the mirror. A silver eye stares back at me. I inherited my silver eye and black hair from my mother. My unusual marble-white skin that doesn't tan and my right eye are the only gift I got from my father. I sigh and pack my stuff and run to my friends.

“How do you guys get up so early?! Everytime I'm the last one!”

Carmina grins and pokes in my chest.

“You need more preperation than a girl, mister sweetcheeks!”

I grin back.

“Are ya jealous, miss tomboy?”

Carmina sticks out her tongue and walks away. She is nothing like a tomboy, with her perfectly rounded body, which comes very in handy with tempting the males. I run after her and tuck on the little bit of silver-white hair peeping outta the shawl on her head.

“Aww, don't be mad, you know you're my little tomboy? Don't forget we need to play two flames in love!”

Carmina grins at me to show she isn't angry and we walk further and further into the city, towards the palace, towards our most spectacular act ever!!

--

Atinyane

-

My name is Atinyane, and I was a princess.

To the unobservant eye, my life was a lustrous, sandalwood-scented dream. The palace in which I lived had been designed, many generations ago, by the best architects in the empire, and its soaring pillars and vast atriums remained the pinnacle of Middle Eastern architecture. No door was barred to me, no garden off-limits. Every day was a whirl of innumerable delights; vast rooms lined with plush Persian carpets and brightly-coloured Chinese silks; burbling, sparkling fountains and emerald palms whose leaves waved gently in a drowsy breeze; dates, pomegranates and the finest delicacies my father’s legion of chefs could concoct; clothing made in far-off lands; henna, kohl and priceless, intricate jewelry that glittered alluringly in the light cast by thousands of lamps. Paradise—

And it was all a cage.

You don’t believe me? Then let me ask you this: are not the bars of a golden cell as impassable as those of one made of iron and wood?

The moment I was born, female and unfit to be heir to my father’s throne, my freedom was forfeit. My childhood was simply the waiting room that preceded my true destiny, a destiny dictated by my father and facilitated by my passive, unresisting mother—a destiny that would invariably include either an arranged marriage to a man I’d never met, or worse, becoming one of hundreds of additions to some far-off sultan’s personal harem.

Yes, it was a cage: a cage I’d been desperate to escape ever since I’d realised the existence of its deceptively beautiful bars. However, desperation, as any captive will know, is almost never enough to achieve freedom, and I’d reached my sixteenth year before my first and only opportunity finally came.

My bare feet made no sound on the smooth stone floor; my slippers, which shuffled noisily when I wore them, lay neglected on the floor of my bedchamber. Eavesdropping was a task which demanded silence.

Padding down corridors, through unused rooms and servants’ passages, I made my way through the palace. Avoiding the conglomeration of chambers which formed the seraglio was impossible, so I tiptoed past the countless curtained doors, hoping I wouldn’t be heard by the flocks of giggling women who inhabited each one.

Finally I came to the door I sought. Its curtains had been drawn back to allow circulation, and I flattened myself against the wall beside them, straining my ears to catch the sounds of conversation taking place inside.

There were three voices, as there had been every day for the past week: my father’s, as deep and bloated with entitlement as ever, my mother’s, nervous and tittery and anxious to please—and the third, belonging to a man called Zabamey, a repugnant, wrinkled old prune of a man, a minor sultan who oversaw a good fraction of my father’s estates. He had first appeared at the palace gates just over five days ago, with a look on his face like a greedy farmer who’s just been granted the pick of the litter. I’d known immediately that that look alone meant trouble for me, and I’d been eavesdropping on their daily discussions ever since. Some days they talked for hours, their voices rising and falling like the music I’d loved since I was small—only not beautiful, not at all, and ominous. Other days the voices would last only for a few minutes, sometimes just a few seconds, and I would have to scramble away and hide as either Zabamey or my father came storming out of the room.

Today, though, was different—chillingly so. The voices my ears detected were amiable, contented… smug.

My heart began to pound, and I strained my ears to hear the words. Finally I picked them out:

“…decided, then—the marriage will take place on the full moon of next month.”

My breath caught, my heart plummeted, and I fled, running as far and fast as I could even though I already knew that there was no escaping the palace--no escaping my golden cage.