Ozymandias - The Great One

Christina Bothwell 8:1a Tuesday 23rd January 2001

Ozymandias-The Great One

The commotion of the wild horses, the torrents of flying sand and the shouts of the livid laborers. This was the ritual of life in the town of Zalahujah. Dust was hovering in the midday air and the sun shone vividly on the hectic Market Square. The folk of Zalahujah were decorating the streets with extravagant banners, brightly coloured garlands and many other wonderous things. Everything was to be perfect for the great and evil emperor Ozymandias. Ozymandias ruled Zalahujah with a rod of iron, his subjects feared his wicked temper and if anyone disobeyed his laws, their sentence…death!

The festival was a joyous occasion for young and old people alike. Music, dancing and singing were many passages of the day. Now Ozymandias was ruling Zalahujah, this would be no more. Orders were given to his men and the festival proposed as a formal feast. Many people begrudged with this but dare not argue because of the emperors terrifying attitude. The date was set, 14th August 100BC and all of Zalahujah were to attend.

The intense heat of the sun had not reached its peak as the long caravan of weary camels, guards and courtiers trailed through the magnificent arched gateway to the palace. The gathered crowd buzzed with anticipation as the majestic pair of camels emerged through the gate into the outer courtyard carrying the emperor. A sudden silence fell upon the crowds as Ozymandias dismounted and made his way up the steps into the palace. Without warning, he suddenly stopped, turned and addressed his people. “My loyal subjects, tonight is the festival of Rhinad. Woe betide anyone unable to pay their taxes by the end of this evenings banquet will be incarcerated into the dungeons and await their sentence!” With this he then turned back and strutted into the palace like a royal peacock. The crowds mood changed. People began to show their anger, comments and boo’s could be heard as the subjects dispersed home. The guards were quick to respond to the raised voices coming from the crowd and hurriedly ushered them from the courtyard in fear of retribution from Ozymandias.

I made my way home, wandering through the shifting dunes. The heat, shimmering on the sand, was almost unbearable. Luckily, I did not have far to travel. I soon entered the arched eastern gateway, not far from my humble home. As I walked across the Market Square, street traders were packing away and gathering belongings, ready for the evening festivities. I soon found myself outside the door of my home, a ragged piece of sacking hanging loosely, hung on some delicate hooks. As I entered the dwelling, the sun cast a shadow on the white wall. I knew I was not alone. I abruptly turned and faced a woman shroud in black with a number of objects in her hand. “My dear”, she whispered mystically, “I see you as an important part of the future as I have seen in the bones. I see a great misfortune to engulf your beloved Zalahujah. You hold the key to your own destiny…something you have been waiting for a long time. Here take these”, she thrust a collection of yellow chipped bones into my hands, “If you ever need help, cry Malonia and help will be with you, but in some strange ways”. With one final Goodbye she spun around, her black clothes swirling around her she moved silently towards the door and disappeared leaving a soft echoing voice “Remember Mallonia…Mallonia…Mallonia”.

Thus leaving an eerie stillness, was this the calm before the storm?

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Thus leaving an eerie stillness, was this the calm before the storm?

As the last of the sun sank below the horizon and the first twinkling stars appeared, I knew it was time to leave and join the rest of Zalahujah. As I left my rondavel and emerged into the night air, I could hear the music coming from the Market Square. I wended my way through the myriad of alleyways towards my destination. I kicked up the sand in deep thought. Who was the mysterious woman I had met? What did she mean by a great misfortune? As I turned the dark corner, a magical atmosphere appeared before me. Was this really the emperors celebrations? In the flickering torchlight, I wandered slowly across the market square, unable to take in all that was going on around me. Fire eaters, conjurers, snake charmers, dancers and musicians all contributing to the mystical ambience.

Groups of neighbours and friends looked on in awe of what was going on. I nodded and acknowledged them as I approached the palace. As we made our way through the corridors, we were ushered towards the gardens where upon entering we were led into a magnificent marquee. Food graced the festooned tables where we were invited to sit. Golden goblets sat on the tables, filled to the brim with rich red wine. As the evening progressed, our goblets were never empty, continually being topped up by the busy slaves who never seemed to rest. Course after course of aromatic food passed my lips until I could eat no more. As the hubbub of the evening subsided, guests began departing in ones and twos. By this time, I was feeling tired and weary. I slowly arose and made my way to the exit.

As I walked, I took in deep breaths of the bitterly cold air mixed with the amount of rich wine I had consumed. My head began to spin. Was this a sign? All of a sudden, I felt a presence as I turned a corner. I glanced behind but stumbled over some baskets which threw me into a state of confusion. When I gathered myself, I looked around but could see no one about and cautiously carried on my way. I had not gone but a few yards when I could feel a sharp object pressing against the middle of my back. I stopped and was confronted by a group of the emperors personal guards. “You dare not pay your taxes”, whispered a hoarse voice. With this I was hurriedly taken back to the emperors palace and thrown into one of the darkest dungeons. The door slammed shut and the noise of the bolts sliding across echoed out.

Silence reigned until the door was unbolted and to my amazement, there stood Ozymandias. His white flowing robes glistened in the torchlight his eyes pierced through the dungeon towards me. “To your feet”, screamed a harsh voice, “You are in the presence of the emperor!” I slowly came to my senses and stood nervously before Ozymadias. “Are you above everyone else by not paying your taxes? You know the penalty. Are you an imbecile…? TELL ME!” Quivering with fear, my voice squeaking like a mouse, “ I have nothing to give as taxes…” “SILENCE! Everybody pays, no matter what! How are we to get blood out of a stone? What are we to do!?” I dare not reply for fear of my life. It seemed like ages before Ozymandias spoke again, “I understand you are a sculptor. I have not seen your work locally. Where do you practice your trade?” I began to feel at ease, “Your highness, my work is spread over a vast area. Many of your loyal subjects have requested my services.” The emperor interrupted, “ I have a proposition. Your life for a statue.” With this statement, I did not understand his intentions. “Sire, what do you mean?” Ozymandias explained his longing of a life-size statue to be placed in the Market Square. I had no option but to agree with his terms if I was to save my life.

The next thing I knew I was being pushed through the gates of the palace as day broke, clutching a scroll in one hand. People were already beginning their daily chores, unaware of my earlier ordeal. Relieved, exhausted and totally confused by the events just passed, I rushed home. I reached the doorway, ran inside and collapsed in my hammock.

For days on end, I toiled, hour after hour, burning the midnight oil to get the wretched statue completed. My neighbours and friends were continuously trying to find out what I was doing but I managed to keep it hidden from prying eyes. Days turned into weeks. When was it going to be finished I kept saying to myself. Eventually, I could see the end in sight but to my horror, as the hammer struck the chisel for the thousandth time, it slipped and a searing pain went through my body as the sharp blade pierced my palm. I cried out in agony. What on earth was I going to do now? “Mallonia”, I cried instinctively, “Help me, please!”

I lay in my hammock, unable to move my tightly wrapped hand. I was in a deep sleep, dreaming of the consequences that would occur if I were to give the incomplete statue to Ozymandias. His screaming voice could be heard above the jeers and laughter of the crowds. The noise was terrible and, worst of all, I could hear in my mind the constant chipping of chisel on stone. When would it stop?

I awoke in a clammy sweat the following morning unsure of what to do. As I was preparing my meagre morning meal, I caught a glimpse of something laying in the corner. Moving across the room, I bent down and realised to my astonishment that what lay on the dusty floor was a few small bones. Where did they come from? I racked my memory, trying to think where they came from. It hit me as I went through to see the statue, to my amazement it was finished to the last detail. Immediately I knew. Mallonia had been.

I rushed to the palace, stumbling and tripping as I went. I ran through the gate, climbed the steps and knocked furiously at the huge door. “Who is there”, replied a croaky voice. “It is I, Diabolo, the humble sculptor. I have great news for the great emperor!” I entered the hallway and was led through a number of twisting corridors. “Wait here”, he the guard ordered, “The emperor will beckon you when you are required.” He opened the door and slid silently inside. I was waiting along time before the guard returned and granted permission from Ozymandias for me to go inside. I took a deep breath and opened the door. I walked nervously along the red carpet and bowed awkwardly as I reached the throne of the emperor. Ozymandias stood up majestically. “I see you have completed the task I set you to. Ah”, he said spotting my injured hand, “I see you hurt yourself while making the statue,” mockingly he taunted, “ What an earth would the consequences have been then?” I nodded courteously as he continued to speak, “Well, I have set a date for the unveiling of the figure tomorrow, noon to be precise. I expect to see you there with the rest of Zalahujah. Spread the word. Guards”, he commanded, “See this man out. Good day Diabolo.”

The next twenty four hours were hectic. I told neighbours and friends who passed on the word to other people about the grand celebration the next day. The statue was escorted to the Market Square by the emperors guards who took it in turn to protect it from vandals and thieves. The next day soon arrived, humid and dusty and the crowds flocked in hundreds to see the figure. I, myself, arrived later to avoid the jeering and comments of the many rumors that had spread over the town.

At exactly midday, horns sounded and a parade of camels and guards entered the Market Square, closely followed by a pair of camels carrying the mighty emperor, Ozymandias. There were a few short speeches followed by the unveiling of the stone statue. The crowd was in a stunned silence and as I turned to look at the statue, to my horror saw the features had been grotesquely disfigured. The emperors face turned purple with rage as laughter spread throughout the people, getting louder and louder. Without warning, Ozymandias pushed aside the guards, grabbing hold of the nearest weapon and wildly struck out at the statue. Within seconds, the sky blackened and a bellowing voice was heard as the statue was smashed to pieces. “Whoever so defies the curse of Mallonia, great misfortune they will suffer!” A loud clap of thunder echoed over Zalahujah and a bolt of lightning hurled through the sky and struck what remained of my sculpture, blackening every last piece of stone. A sudden calm was restored but on the horizon could be seen the billowing sands being swept up into the sky. Panic ensued. The crowds in total confusion ran this way and that like lost sheep. Slowly the sandstorm approached. Was this to be our fate? Will Zalahujah survive? What will become of Ozymandias and myself? These questions remain unanswered…