by Jamie Le Fay
"I'm not," he said, swiftly raising both hands, palms towards her, "his campaign dares to shatter taboos. Those who think privately what he speaks publicly perceive him as speaking truth to power. And, the journalists struggling with a broken business model are happy to use his sensationalist statements as clickbait. They are selling out in exchange for eyeballs that bring them advertising dollars. It's working in his favour."
"Sure, but progress is everywhere. You have an African American President in office, women and minorities are slowly gaining consumer power, and there are many good, progressive Caucasian men supporting them."
"Some, not all."
"Yeah, I know. But, I don't see how Zanus would ever get a serious shot at the White House. Plus, the jobless working class can't blame the minorities, it's the one percent who're stealing their economic power. And the software, the robots, the artificial intelligence and the value extraction economics."
"That's not what the clickbait headlines are selling to the masses in the US."
"Do you really think that Walter has a chance of becoming president in two years?"
"Yes, I do. I believe that, in the next few years, we are likely to experience a war between a large population of disenfranchised, jobless, Western Caucasian men and everyone else. The status quo is being disrupted, and they don't like it. Don't expect them to give up power willingly. The forces you challenge are dangerous and don't play fair or clean."
They sat there for a while in silence. Morgan was too shaken by the possibility of a future where Zanus was President of the United States. Gabriel broke the silence by talking about art and history. He explained that the Ange'el Foundation spent a lot of its resources on the preservation of artefacts from all over the world. He said that it was very sad how much great knowledge from ancient civilisations had been lost. They discussed her favourite sculpture, The Rape of the Sabine Women by Giambologna. She talked about the three-dimensional nature of that sculpture and how Giambologna was a master of turning marble into flesh. Gabriel continued to impress her with his knowledge of the things she loved most. He added that the actual Roman story did not include rape and that the word "rape," in this particular case, was derived from the Latin word "raptio," which meant "abduction." In return, she showed off her own knowledge of the tale.
"Women were once again both the victims and heroes of the story. The women ended the war by imploring to their Sabine fathers and their Roman husbands. Why are men so cruel?"
"You are full of contradictions Morgan. Is cruelty really a gendered quality?" He remarked, raising one eyebrow. She loved the way he challenged her with her own arguments. She shook her head in a gesture of hopelessness.
"Sometimes it's hard to believe in the goodness of men. The two hundred plus Chibok schoolgirls kidnapped by the Boko Haram are still missing. One day, if they are still alive, they too, may have to plead for their children and kidnapper husbands to their parents. I'm so sick of the violence of men trapped by prehistorical expectations of manhood."
"Manhood is, today, an uncertain, frail status that is easily threatened. Insecure men attempt to affirm their manliness physically and symbolically. Zanus's appeal speaks to the insecurities of men raised with traditional values; men trapped in a world that is pulling the rug under their feet and challenging everything they believe in."
"We're all to blame; we are teaching our daughters that they can be whatever they wish to be, while our boys are still hopelessly stuck in the man box." The thought of Zanus brought fire to her gut, the type of frustration she struggled to contain. "Sometimes it's difficult to take a peaceful stand when some men only understand the language of violence and war. These people don't want a fairer world; they want power, control and destruction. You don't see women acting like that."
His eyebrows sunk and his eyes focused on the floor. "Women are capable of as much destruction and greed as men."
"Give me one example of a place in the world where that happens."
"Perhaps one day," he murmured and changed the topic. "You won't find the magic of Giambologna here, but I trust you'll still enjoy the sculptures of the American masters."
"Indeed, it's not Florence nor the Louvre, but I can assure you it will do just fine. Unless you plan to fly me to Europe this evening?" She smiled, teasing him. He was so considerate and eager to please that she could not help but playfully retaliate with lighthearted irreverence.
He blushed. They both struggled to look into each other's eyes, constantly playing a game of hide-and-seek: brief eye contact followed by swift escapes away from the electric charge that rushed through their bodies every time their eyes met.
Illicit Lust
Ahe'ey
Quinn was practising her hunting skills by following unnoticed a small herd of white-tail deer. She laid on the ground hidden by a shrub of Sapote. The animals fled the site as Amalia's voice resonated in the forest a few metres away.
"Disgusting creature!" Quinn heard the old woman scream. "Who do you think you are to disgrace your lineage and waste the few royal genes present in your blood." Quinn looked around to find Amalia standing in front of Scout, who was lying who was lying naked on a grassy mound with another young woman barely in her teens. Scout jumped to her feet, grabbed her leather tunic that lay on the floor and held it over her breasts. Amalia pulled the girl's purple and white hair and screamed to her face.
"You shame us all with your deviant lust." Amalia punched Scout's jaw so hard that she fell to the ground, hitting her head on the hard rocky ground to the side of the mound. Scout's young companion picked up her clothes and ran away in the direction of the village.
"Your body does not belong to you," said the old woman, unsheathing her sword and pointing it to Scout's womb. Blood stained Scout's white hair as she moved back, away from Amalia's sword. She stood up, attempting to cover her body with her hands.
"Please, my Queen. We weren't harming anyone, we—" Amalia kicked the girl in the face. As Scout hit the ground once again, and the old woman planted her sword in between Scout's thighs leaving an open wound on the inside of the girl's left inner leg. Quinn's heart pounded as she tried to stay still and unnoticed.
"The only reason you will leave this forest alive today is to bear children of royal descent. Do you understand girl?"
"Men are scum; I want nothing to do with them," Scout spat her words.
"Yes, yes they are. Still, you will hunt the highest ranking man you can find and take his seed. That is all the interaction you need to have with them. You will do it this year or next time I will not be so forgiving." Amalia pushed the blade of her sword between the girl's legs. "Use your lust to our advantage." The old woman walked away.
Quinn attempted to leave quietly, sneaking away towards the village. She kept her body flat behind the shrubs that stood between her and Scout.
A dagger zoomed past Quinn's ear and stabbed the trunk of the tree that stood in front of the girl. Quinn turned to face Scout who grabbed her, choked her and pushed her body against the tree.
"If you share a word of what you saw today, I'll cut off both of your ears and feed them to the pigs." Scout pulled her dagger from the Kapok tree, nicked the top of Quinn's ear and disappeared into the forest.
Children of the Moon
Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York
James appeared with their change of clothes. "The offices on the top floor are available for you to change in. The party will start upstairs in the roof garden in half an hour, and the canapés will be served at seven in the Sackler Wing, where the Egyptian Temple of Dendur is located."
"Thank you, James," Gabriel said as James gave them the bags and took the basket away.
She came out wearing a figure-hugging royal blue dress and a pair of high-heeled shoes. It was the best dress she had ever worn. It perfectly suited the curves of her body, and it worked very well with her pale skin. She wore her hair down and held a small silver purse.
"You look stunning," Gabriel said softly
. She was looking at the most handsome man she had ever seen. He was wearing a steel blue fitted suit that shimmered a bit and a pale blue shirt. His eyes were on her, showcasing genuine admiration and kindness. She cringed with embarrassment, fighting the feelings of physical unworthiness that sparked every time her eyes set upon him.
"Thank you, I love your suit," she replied casually as she walked towards him. He offered her his left arm and placed his right hand over hers. As they walked to the roof garden, they enjoyed fairy lights that were positioned on the stairs and the light sculptures that illuminated the way. She suddenly realised this was a very special party. The women were all dressed in the most amazing gowns, and she recognised many famous faces, including movie actors and politicians.
"I wish I had known how fancy this party was. I would have made more of an effort," she said, a little intimidated as she thought of her pale, makeup-free complexion and absence of jewellery.
"You are absolutely beautiful, Morgan," he spoke in an encouraging tone. He stopped for a second, observing her discomfort. "Will you mind if I leave you for just a few minutes?" She was puzzled but nodded. He took a glass of champagne from a waiter's tray, handed it to her and said, "I'll be right back." He headed in the direction of the two security guards that had been following them all day, exchanged a few words with them, and then Gabriel disappeared amongst the crowd.
As she stood on the rooftop looking over Central Park and the city skyline in the distance, she felt quite special. There she was at the centre of the world on a clear winter night with the sky illuminated by a full moon. The outside heaters made the environment welcoming, and although she usually paid no attention to fashion or celebrity, she could not help but enjoy a moment in awe of the way the beautiful dresses integrated perfectly with the design of the building and the vivacious light art installations that surrounded her. The vibrant and sparkling environment made her feel alive and grateful—she always remembered her humble beginnings and her journey through life. Morgan never took anything for granted, and today she wanted to experience this moment as if she were Alice in Wonderland.
She saw Gabriel walking towards her. He was stopped several times. Apparently, he was well known and respected by many of the guests. He was perfectly polite and charming. He always wore his cuffs unbuttoned, allowing his sleeves to cover most of his hands. He had the habit of gently squeezing the tips of his thumbs as he spoke, alternating one to the other. A nervous gesture, she thought. Perhaps he is by nature quite shy. And yet, shy or not, it seemed that the entire world was in line to greet him. He excused himself as he tried to make his way towards her.
"I'm sorry," he said as he finally reached her.
"You're clearly very popular, Gabriel."
"It's just another cheap privilege that took zero effort to attain," he repeated her words. She couldn't detect any hint of sarcasm in his tone. He lowered his eyes and took a blue silk box out of his pocket.
"I thought you may like to wear this tonight," he said, his voice trembling.
She panicked, hoping there were no precious stones in the box. She refused to wear diamonds or other precious stones that likely came from places where people were exploited. But why would I ever doubt his impeccable ability to read my mind? In the box, she found a necklace and a bracelet made of turquoise, her favourite crystal. They were beautiful, the exact tone she liked, the place where the blue sky met the green sea, the same place that lived in his eyes. The necklace was quite long, and the stones small. She could also see some chartreuse glass beads. Precious, she thought.
"I thought it would complement that wonderful dress very well."
"Thank you, it's stunning." Her eyes shined and expressed happiness. She felt spoiled and loved. Everything was perfect. "I'm honoured. But where did you find these?"
"We are at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. Everything is possible." He smiled. He took the necklace from the box and helped her put it around her neck. The necklace was designed so that most of its length would hang at the back; he touched her body as he positioned it at the middle of her spine. He was right; both pieces matched perfectly with the rest of her ensemble.
He looked at her face, which was lit by the full moon, and smiled. "Are you a child of the moon, Morgan?"
She looked at him, surprised and confused. "Yes. Yes, I guess I am. The full moon fills me with energy and a sense of well-being. It's usually when I'm at my best. It's like magic."
He became lost in her eyes for a second and then lowered his eyes. She felt he was fighting something. He nodded his head and eyes. "We should find our way downstairs and get some food."
The roof garden was now filled with people. Gabriel held Morgan's hand as he made his way through the crowd. He had strong hands and long fingers. Like the rest of his body, his hands walked the tightrope between elegance and strength. He seemed to be overprotective of her, not allowing any man close to her. His possessiveness unsettled her. It seemed contrary to his gentle nature. He used his body and arms as a barrier; she was so small compared to him that she felt engulfed by his body. Morgan was having a difficult time trying to ignore the sense of well-being, peace, and desire she experienced every time she came close to him. His glow, that glow he had, seemed to have an effect on her. In any other situation, with any other person, she would have kept her guard up and fought the feeling of wanting to submit to him, to love him. After all, she barely knew him. But it just felt so right. Everything felt so right. It was as if she had always known him.
Used
Ahe'ey
Scout walked alone that night along the forest road that connected the Yi'ingo and Hu'urei villages. The Hu'urei used the road at night to seek sexual partners. The builders of Ahe'ey weren't allowed to congregate outside their male-only village since Amalia and Sky had instated martial law. Thirty years of gender segregation imposed by the Royal family left the men isolated and sexually frustrated.
Hu'urei men couldn't socialise in groups with members of the other tribes. They were permitted to work outside of their village as long as they walked alone to and from their destination. Some of the men had managed to establish relationships with women when they visited Ange'el or Yi'ingo for work during the day. But most roamed the roads alone at night, looking for company. The Yi'ingo and Ange'el women preferred the charms of the Ma'asai farmers, so only a few visited the road at night looking for sex or looking to make a baby.
"Your name Hu'urei?" Scout shouted with her hand on the grip of her sword. She gritted her teeth, swung her purple crest of hair from side to side and stamped her feet on the ground. She attempted to look menacing as she faced a man much larger than her. The Hu'urei was unarmed; he leaned against a tree smoking a long wooden pipe. His rust-red hair was pulled back into one single braid that reached the middle of his back. His face, half hidden under a long beard, expressed glimpses of amusement and disdain.
"What do you want, child?" There was the shadow of a knowing smile underneath his beard. He wetted his lips as he appreciated her body. They both knew there was only one reason why Yi'ingo and Hu'urei visited this road at night.
"Your name?" Scout screamed once again, doing a terrible job of attempting to hide her terror.
He offered his credentials swiftly, without apprehension. "Joshua, son of Iblis and Gráinne. Grandson of Sathian, Amalia and Michael, and your equal Scout. Half my blood is royal, just like yours." Joshua's recognition of the young Warrior only caused her distress to grow.
"You are not my equal you scum. You are the son of rape and hate. The descendent of evil himself." She couldn't help her anger as she recognised the leader of the Hu'urei.
He rolled his eyes. "And yet, here you are for my seed. Are you not?" He murmured, looking into the young woman's eyes, reaching his hand over his oversized gut and placing it between his legs. He squeezed the visibly growing bulge that showcased his lust for her.
"Rapist and murderers. All of you."
Joshua grew still as the nervous girl barked
at him. "I haven't killed or raped anyone. I'm an honest working man, like the rest of my men. The culprits are long dead. Killed by your warriors."
"Filth of the Earth."
"You treat us like dogs with rabies. Sky takes our rights and our children. When is it going to stop? Why do I pay for the crimes of my forefathers?" He took one step toward her, his eyebrows were bunched in frustration even as his eyes continued to wander down her body. "Want my seed? I promise I won't disappoint." Scout put her hand on the grip of her sword. Her heart raced so fast she forgot to breathe. "No? Then leave me be. Off you go young rascal."
Scout ran from the man, unable to fulfil Amalia's command. She was angry with herself. Joshua was a Hu'urei, but he was one of the highest ranking Ahe'ey in the land. His blood was not pure, but it was as far up the chain as Scout could hope for. Above Joshua, only Gabriel and Bastian—the first was the devil incarnated and the second, Sky's lover. Every single woman in the land relentlessly pursued the two Royal men; women with sexual prowess and desire that she lacked with the opposite sex.
Scout slowed down, sighing, and turned back to find Joshua, but he was no longer there.
Submission
Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York
Thousands of fairy lights illuminated the Temple of Dendur in the Sackler Wing. In front of it, a band was playing Latin jazz. Many couples were already dancing at the centre of the room on an elevated area where the temple stood. Down at the sides of the platform, people talked and enjoyed extravagant canapés and cocktails. All-light sculptures glowed in different shades of blue, casting a blue tint on their surroundings.
