Prompt# 293 - Electricity – Gleaming White – Tekia - Original

[tekia.livejournal.com]

Title: Gleaming White
Fandom: Original
Prompt: Electricity
Warnings: None
Rating: PG
Summary: Jacky and Mata’ka’ala make it to an Inca city.
What was with the ancients and gleaming white?
Jacky paused behind Mata’ka’ala and gaped at the stone walls that towered over the rest of the city, at the terraces that were overabundant with startling green growth, framed in by the white stones. Water glittered in the bright sunlight, flowing down the walkways and between the stones forever on a course downwards. The air was crisp and fresh, filled with the low murmur of people; people that he could only see as dots of color at this distance.
Mata’ka’ala had paused to turn and look at him, his head tilted to one side, his heavy fall of hair over one bared shoulder. “Jacky?”
Jacky smiled. “It’s beautiful.” He shook his head. “I can’t even begin to describe my thoughts.” His eyes returned to the sight before him. “In my time this is all ruins. There’s not a single person that remembers when it looked like this.”
“You know this city?” Mata’ka’ala returned to his side, standing shoulder to shoulder with him, gazing out at the city laid out below.
“No, but I know the people. They were an empire and then not well before anybody found a trace of them.”
“We will find peace here.”
Jacky started to smile then he stopped. “Maybe.”
Mata’ka’ala’s hand on his shoulder made him pause as he began following their now distant guide. “What do you know of these people?”
Jacky didn’t want to say anything. He didn’t want to say a word. It would be true then, and then they will be threatened and they will have to leave. This place was so beautiful, with its gleaming white walls and brightly painted murals. It was so peaceful with its massive pyramid towering over the city like a crouching leopard.
He was tired of always fleeing for his life. He hoped that here, high up in the mountains, they could find a home, a place for them to settle down and never have to fear for their lives. For the lives of their gods.
He took a deep breath and faced Mata’ka’ala. He would never forgive Jacky if Jacky didn’t tell him the truth from the start.
“The gods here demand blood sacrifice. Just as the people at home did, so do these people take the lives of their Chosen Ones.” He shrugged. “They may decide we need to go back to the world of the gods and kill us.”
He saw the anger flood Mata’ka’ala’s face before he took a deep calming breath. He closed his eyes on the exhale and then nodded once. “Hurry up, they’re leaving us behind.”
He stepped around Jacky and descended down the road that would lead them from one mountain and toward the other. Jacky followed, forever obedient.
Their guides didn’t wait for them, their bare feet padding along the smooth dirt road, leaving the two of them to quicken their pace.
There were no more bridges, thank the gods, Jacky thought as they skipped over a small stream, then began their accent toward the city.
From this angle they couldn’t see the city at all, only the wealthy growth of farms on the terraces. The forest had been hacked away by the farmers and the builders, the trees chopped and burnt as fuel for their massive furnaces. Even now there was a black cloud of smoke raising up over them from one such furnace, the smell of fire filling their lungs.
Jacky pointed to the source. “Look, that’s where they make their lime. They coat their structures with it, making everything so very white.” Mata’ka’ala wasn’t interested, but he looked and nodded his head anyway. Jacky smiled and pressed onward.
They began passing other people, all who stopped to gape at them, the two white men in their midst. Jacky braved a smile, ignoring the thrill like electricity running through his veins, refusing to call it fear. He smiled and even dared to wave at a pair of young children gawking at them. One brave young boy smiled, but was pulled away by his mother.
Ropes hung from the cliff side and wiry young men scaled up and down as if gravity were merely a suggestion. Jacky watched them until he had to crank his neck about to keep them in sight. Then he turned his eyes to the pyramid.
He liked pyramids, once upon a time. Back when they were distant and only in photos. Now he had experienced far too much to look upon a pyramid with anything other than trepidation.
Their guides stopped them before they could reach the main gates into the city. Guards had gathered around, men covered in black body paint and bright feathers. They held stone spears at the ready and Mata’ka’ala held out his hands in the universal gesture of surrender.
Their guides and the guards spoke and exchanged a length of rope. One man ran off up the length of stone path that bisected the terraces, and Jacky leaned forward to whisper in Mata’ka’ala’s ear.
“I don’t know what they’re called here, but further north they could be called the Eagle Warriors. They are city guards and scouts. These people are known for their endurance. It is believed that they can run for days without getting tired.” He motioned to a distant mountain peak where they could just see the plum of another smoke cloud. “They have vast distances to trespass between their cities. Their empire is massive.”
Mata’ka’ala nodded once. This information he was interested in. Any military knowledge was useful to him, wasn’t it, as a war god? Jacky sighed and looked around them, noting the crowd that was gathering. He smiled at the children again, but kept close to Mata’ka’ala.
Finally, the guards seemed to come to a decision and they were motioned to move forward, toward the city.
Holding his breath, Jacky placed one foot on the massive stone that made up the first step up the terraces. It was gleaming white, as were all the others, and it was hand carved to fit into its place like a puzzle piece. He exhaled and let his eyes travel up the path and over the manmade waterfalls and terraces of cornfields. The people were stopping their labors to watch them, their skins dark and eyes intent.
Every new place was like this for him. There was so much culture laid out before him that he, in his past life, would have killed to know. Now it was here, his for the learning. He bit his lip to keep the smile from blooming, for the people around him were all very serious and they could be very deadly.
Still, there was a thrill going up his spine and this time he didn’t bother not naming it, because it was the passion of his trade. Excitement.
The wind picked up and rustled his hair until he had to pull it out of his face and he couldn’t hold back a chuckle. “Look, Mata’ka’ala, up there.” He pointed up at the pyramid. “That’s their sky and weather god.” He grinned. “It’s you.”