But why did he wear that disguise? How was it possible?
As Ben looked between Sol and Prince Hulaal and Queen Ashlu, he saw the flare of something indefinable in her eyes as she gazed down upon Ramses’ disguise.
It was the same indefinable flare in her eyes some three thousand years later when she was traveling through a remote back route to the citadel, returning from an extended campaign in a faraway land.
It wasBenshe looked upon then, not her Blood Slave in disguise. Ben’s previous incarnation.
And that day…
This day…
So many fates set in motion. So many lives impacted.
The death duel began between the two final contestants, but Ben did not really hear or see. He was lost in his own head.
Everything hurt.
His mind, his heart, his very bones.
And most of all, his soul.
His spirit cried in anguish. Protested the Destiny it must endure. The past that was buried came roaring into the present. Fragments of memories flashed before Ben’s eyes.
It was then, in the middle of his inner turmoil that he caught a glimpse of a blur of white. For some reason, he zeroed in on it:
A white fox sat at Queen Ashlu’s feet. The same white fox that had traveled with Ben.
It cocked its head a little as it looked directly at him, strange, cat-like eyes glinting brightly. Its many tails wagged a little in recognition, so fluffy Ben couldn’t count them all.
Inconceivably, Ben saw a dark-haired woman’s face transposed over the fox’s furry maw.
Lilith…
The name whispered in his mind unbidden.
Lily…
And suddenly, Ben couldn’t breathe.
He couldn’t think, couldn’t feel. He was lost to a past he never knew he had. Living in a present that was no longer his own.
Overwhelmed, he squeezed his eyes shut and opened his mouth to scream. But no sound came out, as if he no longer had control of all of his faculties.
“Fuck!” Sin’s shout suddenly snapped Ben out of it, and the world around him came blazing back into focus.
“He’s taken off with the fighter! Should we follow them? What say you, human? This is your mission.”
Ben blinked rapidly and realized that while he was submerged in his own alternate reality, the tournament grounds were in total chaos.
A great fire raged in the middle of it, seemingly with a life of its own, for he could see no kindle. The Dark soldiers and spectators ran in all directions, some trying to get away from the scalding flames, others rushing to aid the Queen.
Ben couldn’t see her beyond the tall flames and smoke; she was a hazy mirage and so was the white fox. Their images blurred and distorted like a watery reflection. They didn’t seem real.
It was only a split second that he looked, seeing players in a past that his soul had already lived.
But this was not about him.
This was not his story.