BENCHMARK The Watcher continued could find the answer. The world is broken, and must be fixed. Do you know what must be done?’ The Child looked down on the suffering world below him and for the first time in his life, he spoke. His voice was like a great crowd speaking in unison, telling of an end and a beginning, radiating terrible knowledge and an utter, terrifying power. The man with the burning black eyes shivered as a single word reverberated through the room, shattering every window, reducing the iron door to dust. ‘Yes.’ Nick Pether Year 11 27
CREATIVE WRITING The Unseen Foe Amun turned his head from the harsh sting of the desert wind, his dark, powerful legs shifting painfully in the sand with each laboured step he took. Sucking the dry air through his coarse tunic, relief overcame Amun as the steady rattle of heavily laden saddles finally ceased, the weary camels squatting in the golden sand to let down their riders and rest what were undoubtedly exhausted legs. Slumping to the ground like the animals, Amun emptied the last of what had once been a bulging waterskin into is mouth, his parched throat throbbing with pain as he swallowed and observed the other men. Garbed in the dark blue robes of the royal warriors, the eight men stood tall; black silhouettes against the distant sun, their ghostly shadows streaked across the desert as they exchanged glances, waiting grimly by their respective animals. Only one camel remained on its feet, its golden saddle glinting with the touch of loose rays of sunlight, its rider perched seemingly motionless atop its humped back. Engrossed by what appeared to be a thin, tattered scroll and its miniscule glyphs, the King’s eyes scanned the page with intense fixation, as if searching for some crucial detail he’d missed the last million times. Comparing the gaping, stone entrance to one of the faded symbols, the King dismounted, smiling as he rolled the fragile paper up for the first time in many days. The life of a slave was not, traditionally, an adventurous one, and looking back at the vast horizon that extended as far as the eye could see, Amun was acutely aware of how far the King’s journey had taken them from the land they called home. Though the kingdom held little opportunity for Amun, the familiarity of his simple room and palace duties were daily comforts he was learning to live without. As one of the luckier royal slaves, Amun was to be at the beck and call of the divine Prince, and had seen the younger man grow up into the strong and admired King he had become. Although nobody knew with certainty, some speculated that the King and his leading slave had developed a relationship, over the course of years, which was almost akin to friendship. Though merely rumour, just the notion of befriending a slave, let alone one of dark skin, was enough to trigger a strong sense of disapproval amongst various members of the community. Amun was regularly insulted when the King’s back was turned, and had long grown to be grateful for his just master’s unwavering sense of integrity. Only when thinking back to those days gone by, remembering the young King and their close friendship, did Amun appreciate how much had changed as they’d matured. Despite the King’s broader shoulders and ageing face, Amun was one of the few to see that the greatest changes were invisible to the eye, observing his friend on a daily basis. The signs had been subtle at first: a declined meal or a sad glance at his reflection. Yet it wasn’t long before the shroud of mystery was raised from Amun’s eyes. Known as a great and fearless warrior, it seemed that there was no foe that struck fear in the heart of the King, but Amun was astute enough to know that not all foes rode in speeding chariots, spears brandished high. For some, the enemy took the form of the setting sun, the passing of numbered days, and the feeling of time slowly slipping away like sand in an hourglass. Time was the foe which even the fiercest warrior and wisest king were subject to; a concept that Amun could see his friend struggling to accept. Even as his youth inevitably took flight, the King pursued it valiantly, remaining impressively fit and perceptive, while meeting regularly with his healers and priests. Though the King had been able to slow down the clock, Amun could see that he knew he was fighting a losing battle. Though it was not in the nature of their relationship to talk about such issues, Amun often wondered if the obsession with youth stemmed from the absence of children in the King’s life, a respected son or a beautiful daughter. Though he had held many titles, ‘Father’ had never been one of them. Whatever the source was, Amun would look into his friend’s eyes more and more to find defeat, and too often would he hear him speaking about what would become of the kingdom without him. Though Amun had seen otherwise, the King assured him that his worry was for the people and the future of the kingdom, not for himself. So grew an increasing curiosity in immortality, and cheating the bite of death. Seeing his once lively friend withdraw into himself, Amun refused to help his master for the first time, as the King searched the palace archives, uncharacteristically 28
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