[Job; Alexander, King Gil] The King of Beasts

Harsh, ragged breaths, followed by weakened, shaky steps. Time truly was an unfair mistress. This place was no more harsh than his old home. Compared to one another, this was like a child batting on the foot of it's parent. The heat, a sweltering inferno he flourished under in his prime, was but a lit candle here. Yet his body was soaked with sweat and dyed in burns. The open plains were like a polished floor compared to the endless dunes of his home. Yet each step felt as if he had scaled an entire mountain. Were it not for the foul forces keeping him on this side, he'd probably be food for the creature he had come here to capture. The bundled figure faltered, having to stop a moment and gather his strength. The village was in site, as it had been for miles now. The horizon was flat, so spotting any large structures like that was easy. Making it to them proved to be the challenge for Alexander.

Had it not be the request of a more... grandiose individual, he never would have even considered such an excursion. Now he was following orders left on a letter for him, to travel out past the safety of the guild grounds to this secluded village. For reasons beyond his sensible understanding. Still he came. His knee buckled, another short rest was in order. Gil had maintained a power position in the guild as of late. Because of this, Alexander had to prioritize their relationship now. He needed to become a confidant, someone Gil would rely on. The best place to be was on the leaders right, after all.

He continued on, the village gates growing with each step. He wondered where Gil was, most likely already inside and waiting. Alexander had no idea how long it had taken the Master to get there, yet it had taken Alexander some time. This was also assuming Alexander found the letter soon after Gil left it. More likely than not, the golden child would be upset. Preparing for the inevitable, he plastered on his smile, ready to meet Gil with pitiful apologies and humble service. Gil was far from his first Master, and Alexander was a practiced slave. Handling this should be childs play.

Word Count: 381

OOC: Why you make me start

A blinding beacon waited for him at the gates. At first a tiny sparkle, growing into a gleam, expanding into a radiance. Ever the symbol of humility, Gil made his presence known to all. This was all from his shoulders alone; had he the rest of the assemble, several villagers would probably be blinded. The rest of his outfit was an unexpected display of reason however. The light shawl was a moral opposite to Alexander's thick, heavy robes, but each served a different reason. To pale man, the threat was not the heat or sweat, but fear of damage to his porcelain skin. His posture shifted, arms moving closure to his chest and bowing slightly. He had to look small, like an ant before a lion. If the scene was not set, he'd never achieve the ending.

Finally at a proper distance, Alexander broke down into a bow. To most, it would appear a display of pure servitude, and that was the intended goal. Alexander's true reason for it however, was to rest off some of the exhaustion. His eyes locked onto Gil's feet, head down. This was the proper place for a slave to look. "A thousand pardons, my tardiness was not intentional I assure." He paused, letting the tone sink in as he fought for breath. "I left as soon as I was aware of the notice, but as the humble servant I am, I lacked the ways to transport myself such as you." He dared look up now, having put on his makeup for the show. A face of pure regret, begging eyes and a concerned frown. "I'm praying there was no trouble for you on my account?" He had said these lines a thousand times, a script burned into his mind. Yet never in this tongue.

He would not rise, sweating under the burning heat of two suns. He would rise when given permission. There had been entire days he'd went without that before, yet he doubted that would be in Gil's agenda after all. The congregation behind him showed something was to happen. Three older gentleman, one clearly more adorned than the others. He assumed them to be the leaders, most likely those who had called them here. He would not speak to them, that was Gil's role. Alexander was simply here to serve him.

Word Count: 390

OOC: It's gettin hot in here