Peaceful Death
"Are you sure you want to go on with this?" Nefertari asked, worry clear in her voice.
"Yes, I'm alright…ouch! Hey don't touch there," Azar groaned as the maid helping him put on the last of his clothes applied pressure on his wound. No matter how much Tari tried to make him rest, he wouldn't listen to her – a typical Azar act.
"You know we can postpone it a little while longer, you barely stand on alone," Nefertari stated, pointing at him. "Just look at yourself, you are a mess!"
"If you are talking about my hair then it's always a mess, what's new?" he said moving his fingers through his golden hair. "And if it's the wound then I have seen worse." He wasn't lying when he said that he has seen worse, that day when he was tied up with a blade that cuts through anything hanging a foot above his head. He didn't get hurt that day but, he felt death, it was almost as if he saw the grim reaper, and then came Akhenaton, like a celestial being coming straight from the sky to help him.