RR AN: Another update, and I'm giving the credit to TDH for writing this chapter of Knowledge Sought And Knowledge Hunted. I hope you enjoy Chapter Two:Excavation And Capture Pt.II.

Chapter Two: Excavation And Capture Pt. II

Filiron heaved a sigh before closing her eyes. She heard the unmistakable ticking of an analog watch on her left. From that, she assumed her captor was right-handed. She opened her eyes again. Inhaling through her nose, she smelled the subtle aroma of cinnamon amidst the alluring scent of the desert sands. She walked to her tent, slightly nerved as a set of footsteps echoed her own. The sound of sand shifting underneath her boots was usually comforting. This time however, it filled her with uncertainty. Reaching the tent, she pulled open the right flap, stepping to the side to allow her… guest to enter first. She resisted getting caught in his stare once more.

He did not take the offer. "I'm quite certain that 'Ladies first' applies here." His tone was tart as he pushed her forward, holding the tent flap open. Filiron huffed lightly, sidestepping into the tent. With a resigned sigh, she sat down on the cot that was untouched the night prior. The sheets were tucked into the cot snugly. She set her hands on the mattress to steady herself. She looked to her right, equally frightened and awed by the man who stared right back at her with piercing amethyst eyes.

But she no longer noticed his eyes alone. Platinum blond hair rested on his shoulders, accenting his bronze skin; both of these features brought out the hue of his eyes. His attire consisted of a loose-fitting dark blue shirt, complementing black cargo pants, and a pair of black leather shoes. Filiron raised an eyebrow at the amount of jewelry he wore consisting of a gold choker, two gold bands on each arm, and one gold earring, designed as a sphere which then dripped to a point, hanging from each ear. She was aware that jewelry was not uncommon for males in this area. She then noticed the gold-colored conservative wristwatch with a black face showing the Roman numerals for three, six, nine, and twelve, secured around his left wrist.

"Are you uncomfortable with that dark clothing on?" She asked tentatively.

"I am quite content, thank you." His answer was terse, yet lacked any perceivable animosity. "You know the climate of this area well, seeing as you are wearing a white shirt and have taken precautions to prevent your ears and neck from burning." His tone was lined with mild amusement as he took three steps over to seat himself in the chair near the desk. He observed the girl's failed attempts at translating the tablet propped on his left with a small frown. "You seem far too young to be an archaeologist."

"How does that concern you?" She retorted calmly.

"It concerns me," He began, noticing one line of writing that did not match the others; "because you are clearly overwhelmed."

"I am not overwhelmed. What makes you think this tires me beyond what I can handle?" Filiron quipped.

"It is indicated by your numerous failed attempts to translate these simple tablets." He smirked, nerving Filiron more than anything else that she had experienced within this encounter.

"What makes you think these are simple?" Filiron inquired through gritted teeth.

"Even I can easily translate them." The blond supplied.

"Just who are you?"

"I will simply say that I am someone who has an objective and also that I will allow nothing to stop me." He smirked again, eying her curiously. He rose from his seat, reaching for an object on his left side from behind with his right hand. He stepped toward the cot, stopping to loom over her. "And I will also say that I am capable of many things." He slowly drew a golden rod that bore an engraved Eye of Horus enclosed by two sharp edges that Filiron could not help compare to bat wings.

"That…where did you get that?" Filiron breathed, shuddering as her captor chuckled darkly. "Th-the Millennium Items have been lost for…millennia…"

"Firstly, I must commend you on the excellent choice of words." His smirk never faded as he traced the girl's jaw line softly with the left wing of the rod and watched her face grow ashen. "Secondly, this item has been in my family for generations." His voice dropped to a whisper with his next phrase. "What would impress me further is if you knew what this allows me to do."

"I-I have no idea; e-en-enlighten me." Her voice shook uncontrollably. She really did not know and would rather have it explained than experience whatever it was that the object held by the man in front of her could do.

"This is the Millennium Rod, an object that allows whoever is fortunate enough to wield it to bend wills and minds to do anything asked of them." When Filiron did not speak, he continued. "Which means that I have no reason to question you further; I can gain the information that I seek without wasting any more of your time or mine."

Filiron quickly weighed the only options she had. She could either stay and let her captor worm his way into the innermost recesses of her subconscious, or attempt to escape and still face the same outcome. She hung her head in defeat, ignoring the hair that fell into her face. "Do whatever you want with me." Her voice bore traces of that same defeat as well.

"Pity…" He drawled lightly. "I was hoping for a challenge." The eerie whisper returned, uneasily worming up Filiron's spine as he gently tucked a strand of the girl's red-auburn hair behind her ear. "Look at me." He ordered softly, gently stroking her cheek once. When the girl did not respond, he stood and turned from her. "The mind is something that must be protected." His tone was blunt as he slipped the Rod onto his belt. "It is one's last defense, the last place that is truly their own; something that must be defended with every ounce of strength they possess." He glanced at her from the corner of his right eye. "To see someone willingly surrender that as you have…is truly a sign of defeat." Looking back at the desk, he turned to face her, looking at the floor rather than her slack form. "From what little I know of you; you do not seem like one who accepts defeat of any sort willingly."

"Giving up has never been an option." Filiron stated softly.

"If it has never been an option before; what is it about this instance that leads you to give up now?" His icy voice challenged. "You took this occupation, fully aware that you would run the risk of running yourself ragged, be in over your head."

"You know nothing." Filiron hissed vehemently, going rigid.

Ignoring her comment, he spied a sepia toned photograph in a faux brick patterned frame on the small collapsible dresser at the foot of the bed. The picture was of two people standing outside a tent, a man and the same girl that was on the bed. The subjects of the photograph were smiling, holding a stone tablet between them. He took the framed picture and stepped back in front of her. He pointed to the male in the photograph. "Boyfriend?" He asked tersely.

"No." Filiron stated softly.

"Brother?" He suggested

"No." Her voice came out softer.

"A mere acquaintance then?"

"No."

"Then tell me who this man is; it is rather obvious that he was the inspiration for your occupation." He leaned over to place the picture on the desk.

"Why do you ask me?" Filiron tensed slightly. "You implied that asking questions was an unnecessary waste of your time." Her words were tart as she warily eyed the item on his belt. "You could easily find the answers you seek."

"Are you implying I am ignorant?" He quipped dangerously, looming over her once more. His voice was softer with his next statement, but the dangerous edge remained. "I am entirely aware of the ease with which I could obtain the answer to my question."

"A picture can tell you nothing." Filiron stated firmly.

"You are telling me something right now." He murmured. "The picture is merely a method of obtaining that from you." His voice was icily soft once more. "I'll ask you this only once more." Filiron's breath hitched as she heard him softly exhale. "Who is opposite you in this picture?"

"My father." She muttered, defeat fully possessing her tone.

He stepped aside to glance at the picture and then back at the girl on the bed. The male subject and the girl on the bed certainly shared enough traits that her statement seemed accurate. "He looks rather young."

"He was starting to get gray hair." Filiron stated, reminiscent regret lingering after she spoke.

"You said 'was'. Did something happen?" His tone was laced with unmasked intrigue, and inevitable sympathy.

"There was an… an accident two months ago." Her voice was a whisper. "He was rushed to a hospital in Luxor and never returned."

Her captor seemed stricken speechless. He blinked twice. "My condolences." He murmured.

"I don't need your condolences." She murmured hotly.

"That does not make me want to rescind them." He stated icily. "Most who lose one who is as close to them as your father is to you, simply implied from this photograph, would accept any sympathy offered." He sighed softly, intrigue heavily present in his next phrase. "Why is it that you so quickly refuse it?"

"I have simply accepted that I cannot grieve any longer." Defeat lined her voice once more. "I have no reason to." Emerald hesitantly met amethyst. "Why are you taking such an interest in this?"

"It returns back to what I told you about the mind being one's last sanctuary." He stated, turning away from her once more before speaking again. "No one should see all aspects of another's life, even if they have the means to do so. Why I am so interested in what led you to your current circumstances is simple."

"What is so simple about playing twenty questions?"

"The number of questions is irrelevant." He murmured. "To finally answer your inquiry of why I am so interested in these circumstances, I'd rather know things of that nature from you, rather than from your mind while I seek the answers that I desire. Knowing the details of matters as this makes the search easier."

"You are meandering around the accomplishment of your objective; what you are doing now seems to go against what you said about allowing nothing to stop you." Filiron huffed softly. "Why are you putting yourself in the way of your own objectives?"

"My methods are my own." He stated icily as he faced the girl, his tone and mannerisms returning to those of apathy and distaste. "And those methods are of no concern to you."

"You speak as if I wish to know your methods." Filiron quipped swiftly. "I just request for you to do what you must and leave me be."

"I cannot simply leave you be," He began as he surveyed her, eyes sweeping across every inch of her now stunned visage. "For you know far too much, my dear." His voice was calm and soft, but the ice still remained, frozen within his tone.

"But I-I know nothing about you…" Filiron replied swiftly.

"You know what I am after at a basic level and despite my lack of specificity, it still stands that you know that I am after something that may have been at this site." As an afterthought, he added. "In addition, you could very well describe me to a sketch artist."

"Would you care to test that theory?" The phrase floated in the air.

"It is not a matter of theory." He objected, "Rather, it is merely an insurance of sorts." He laughed softly, each laugh lightly staccato. His facial expression then soured as the laughter abruptly ceased. "I suppose just taking you without warning would not be wise. Your colleagues would be missing you." He began to pace, speaking more to himself than to the girl sitting on the bed. "And I'd rather not have a manhunt breathing down my neck, even if I've hidden so well that any attempt to find my location would be futile." He almost failed to notice that the girl had stood and was calmly pacing towards the tent flaps. He grabbed her by the arm. "Just where do you think you're going?"

She turned, narrowing her eyes. "It appears you are in a catch-22 if I continue to be unwilling to cooperate." She pushed aside the tent flap with her free arm. "I can be of assistance to you if you simply pay attention." Attempting to hook the flap into place so that the tent would stay open, she glowered after several single-handed tries brought no success.

Still having one hand gripping her arm, he deftly twisted in front of her. Releasing his grip on her arm, he expertly hooked the flap into place. He blocked the entry. "I'm listening."

RR: As always, reviews are appreciated, and we hope you enjoyed the reading!