Timeline
I, Khemet
“Bring
him to me!”
The guards
kept their faces emotionless as they shouted their confirmation of
“Yes, Great Pharaoh!” Saluting, they bowed and
moved backwards, only to turn around and leave the Throne Room when
they were out of sight of the great Sun and Star, ruler over Lower and
Upper Egypt, the Pharaoh himself. Showing your back to him was always a
bad idea - the Pharaoh was easily offended at the slightest sign of
disrespect, and one simply didn’t turn his back to the son of
the Gods. Atemu, son of Akunamukanon, had issued the order to bring a
thief to justice; in his position as Pharaoh he was
justice, and he knew how to use it. While the other guards kept a close
eye on everyone present in the grand room, Atemu leaned back in his
throne, flanked by his six Priests who served as his counselors.
Mana softly sighed, shifting her arms as if she was hugging herself. It always felt cold in this room, no matter how warmly she dressed, and with the average temperatures of the holy land of Khemet, there wouldn’t have been a need for a warm dress in the first place. Her eyes darted around towards her fellow Priests. They were all silent, awaiting their Pharaoh’s orders, trained to adequately and efficiently advise him, execute his wishes and demands, and guide him when dealing with state affairs. He hasn’t asked much for advice lately, she thought to herself. She knew about his workload and responsibilities, but it had been a while since he had listened attentively to the input of his counselors. Mana blew a wayward strand of thick, chestnut hair out of her face. Not for the first time, she felt completely superfluous and unwanted - she was just…standing there, as to complete the holy number of six: six Priests to form the Pharaoh’s Court.
Karim was standing next to her, holding up his Sennen Scales. The Item was used to measure the evil in one’s soul - she wondered what would happen if it were to measure Atemu’s soul. No, the Pharaoh, she corrected herself immediately. No one thought or spoke about him with his first name. He’d given her his permission to refer to him with his first name though, but Mana hardly used it nonetheless. She was used to thinking of him as Prince first, and Pharaoh later…and no matter what they had been through, the friends they used to be and still were, she couldn’t tear down that thin wall. It was too intimate, and it all but made her snort. They’d shared their bodies, she’d seen him naked, she had wrapped her legs around his waist and begged him to take her, and still she refused to call him by his first name because it felt too intimate to her.
Next to Karim was Akunadin, the eldest of the Priests, but certainly not the wisest. She didn’t like the man, not one bit. It wasn’t only for the Sennen Eye he was wearing, replacing his natural eye and distorting the left half of his face, but also for the lack of compassion, lack of empathy, lack of…everything she felt with him. He was reclusive unlike Karim, who adopted her immediately into their little ‘family’ of Priests, welcoming her even though she took the place of her teacher, not ready for full Priesthood herself. Akunadin had only smiled at her, a smile that had given her the creeps; maybe his Eye could see right through her to the core of her very soul, and that scared her.
She heard noises from the entrance of the Throne Room, but wasn’t allowed to look up; all six Priests stood opposite of each other, aligned in front of the Pharaoh so he could consult them at any time possible. She hated these meetings; it wasn’t as if Atemu listened to them and valued their advice anyway. It was meaningless to stand together like this, easily discarded and dismissed at any point the Pharaoh saw fit. I want to think of you as the boy you once were, my sweet little friend who plucked plums for me from the tree. Mana swallowed bitterly.
Shaadah was standing in front of her, firmly clutching his Sennen Ankh to his chest. He was able to measure the kaa in one’s soul, determining whether it was evil or not. He was a hardworking man, truly devoted and diligent, but she didn’t felt comfortable approaching him with her own worries and doubts. She knew he’d never mock her or belittle her in her face, but still… ‘neutral’ was the best description for any person like Shaadah.
“I didn’t do it! Let me go!”
“Silence!”
Mana closed her eyes, heaving a frustrated sigh. The thief, struggling in the grip of the guards, violently protested against being dragged across the floor. He grunted when he was hit on the head to keep him silent; she hated this show of excessive force, and she knew already what was coming. It hadn’t been any different lately. Her eyes sought out Aishizu, her fellow Priestess wearing the Sennen Tauk. The woman was the living illustration of the Goddess, claiming beauty, brains, intelligence and unruffled composure…there was almost nothing that could disturb Aishizu, and her words were held in high regard by everyone. Mana caught her attention, throwing her a pleading look. She only received a soft, acquiescing smile in return. Aishizu knew what was coming as well, but she remained standing lifeless, hands limp at her sides. The woman had only one negative trait, as far as Mana could think of: her calm acceptance of everything. No matter how heavy the storm, no matter how drastic a consequence, no matter how violent, bloody, or extreme a situation, Aishizu would always calmly accept everything. Her Item allowed her glimpses of the future; a possible future, anyway, and the glimpses were always confusing and difficult to interpret. Ironic for someone as linear as she was, but she’d accepted even that with her calm and silent demeanor.
The thief fell to the floor with a loud thud, grunting in pain as one guard planted his foot in his back to force him to bow.
“Avert your eyes, scumbag!”
Mana pursed her lips. She knew there was no use in looking at the last one of the Court, High Priest Set himself. He wouldn’t come to anyone’s rescue; the way he held a tight grip on his Sennen Rod was characteristic for the man himself. He had a tight grip on everything: his emotions, his speech, whatever situation, whatever circumstances. Nothing eluded him; nothing escaped his grasp or attention. She wasn’t sure if she was afraid of Set. No, not afraid…wary, maybe. With the exception of Akunadin, he was the last one she’d ever approach. Set was always busy of course, and his strive for perfection in everything he did was well-known. He was blunt and harsh in his judgment and actions, but one thing was undeniable: his loyalty to the Pharaoh was beyond questioning. Her lips quirked into a wry smile. There was only one whose loyalty went above all and everything, at least, so they had believed…she didn’t notice when her mouth drew into a bitter, scowling line. So they had believed.
“State your crime, thief!”
The man gurgled, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. He’d stopped squirming, though his hands tried to free themselves from the rough rope tied around the wrists. With a quick glance, Mana could see the chafed skin and felt horrified when seeing the angry red abrasions. Her mind was already providing her with herbal remedies, her vast knowledge of the healing art renowned throughout the Royal Palace. She shivered, trying to focus on nothing in particular, just staring in front of her until this ordeal was over. The coldness in the room wasn’t due to any temperature - it came from the man in the middle, sitting on his high throne; the man whose word was law, whose will was strong and rigid, and whose eyes had changed from attentive and compassionate to heartless and cold, so very cold. Mana lowered her eyes, her arms still shifting as it was hard for her to stand still and remain motionless like the others. It had already been years since she took her Master’s place, but she’d never been able to acquire the ability to resemble a statue while the Court was in session.
“Speak up!”
The guard pressed harder with his foot on the man’s back, the thief groaning in pain.
“This is what you deserve, you lowlife monster!”
“Enough!”
The guard immediately jumped to the side, as the Pharaoh had spoken. He bowed and knelt on the floor. Mana couldn’t help but sigh in relief; no endless torture and screaming this time. She almost blinked in surprise as the next moment, Atemu rose from his throne. With a collective gasp, the six Priests took a step back to make way for him as he calmly descended from the small plateau, taking the five steps in a composed and slow pace.
The thief dared to look up, nervously licking his lips, a shudder wracking his body. The Pharaoh himself was walking towards him…he was going to come face to face with the exalted ruler of Khemet, the veritable son of the Gods. Something he’d never imagined happening when reaching for the gold and jewelry when he was…
“Robbing tombs,” Atemu spoke neutrally. His voice was low, but not deep; he spoke without volume because he knew people would make sure they would hear him. “What were you expecting to find there? Riches? Treasures?”
“Answer the Pharaoh!” the guard on his left side nudged him with his elbow, digging into his ribs. The thief grunted again, his lips twisting in a snarl.
“Gold,” he finally spoke, “I was looking for gold.”
“You were looking for gold,” Atemu repeated. “You trespassed in a holy sanctuary, breached sacred barriers and called for the anger of the Gods…for gold.”
The man licked his lips again, his greedy eye trailing over the jewelry the Pharaoh was wearing - earrings, bracelets, rings, his dia dia’ankh, his crown…and the most magnificent piece of all, dangling from a cord around his neck: the Sennen Puzzle. Not a second later, he was backhanded forcefully, a yelp escaping him.
“Tell me,” Atemu demanded, moving his arm back to cross it in front of his chest, just above the Puzzle. “Did you try to steal the gold to buy bread and water for your wife and children, or did you want to use it only to enrich yourself?”
The thief pressed his face down to the floor again, angry red cheeks hitting the cool tiles, mostly because of the guard forcing him to keep his head lowered.
“My wife and children!” he sobbed. “Great Pharaoh, they have nothing to eat! I had to…I had to breach the sanctuary, for my children would die...!”
“Great Pharaoh!” The other guard fumed. “This man has been caught in the act, with objects and holy relics on him, trespassing in the resting place of our ancestors!”
Atemu seemed to think for a moment, before he turned around and walked back to his throne, the six Priests silently waiting. Mana lowered her eyes again as he passed her – he always slowed down when he passed her, and she knew he would look at her, but she didn’t want to look back at him – and climbed the steps again.
“Rise,”
he simply said while he sat down. The guards hoisted the thief back on
his feet, the man trying to glare defiantly.
“For
your word that your wife and children are starving, you certainly do
not seem to have any trouble looking after yourself,” Atemu
continued. “Your clothes are in excellent condition, your
body does not show any sign of deprivation. I saw the look in your eyes
when you lifted up your head. There is nothing but greed in your soul.
Not even your kaa is worthy enough of extracting -
your bitter feelings are misplaced. Life is not a free ride. There are
chances, challenges and opportunities enough, and skills and knowledge
are rewarded. You, on the other hand, thought you could make an easy
fortune by following into another’s footsteps.”
The thief
growled, but didn’t object. Atemu barked a short laugh; this
time the disdain was more than obvious.
“The
King of Thieves is dead. Did you really think that
a simple, petty thief like yourself could claim his title? You will
have to do far better than that, and even then, death will await
you.”
“You
needed the Gods to kill him!” The thief suddenly spat.
“And you-”
“The
Gods I rightfully command,” Atemu interrupted him, though the
guards were already at the thief’s throat to silence him.
“Bakura’s kaa was strong, and
he was an admirable adversary in some ways. I will give him the honour
and credit of being the first and only one to date to rob the royal
tombs - but you, my friend, you did not make it through the antechamber
before you got caught. You managed to steal some holy relics and a
little bit of gold…”
Mana’s
heart sank. She barely realized she was digging her fingers into the
fabric of her dress, the hood of her cloak suddenly weighing heavy on
her. Atemu was about to sentence the man, and it wouldn’t be
a surprise what his judgment was going to be.
The thief
himself shivered, the guards keeping their firm grip on him. There was
no way out; even if he did manage to break free from the guards, there
were more at the exit of the room, and they were all wielding spears
and staffs. He would be dead before making it through the door.
“Did
you really want to follow in his footsteps?” Atemu asked, but
clearly didn’t expect the other to answer him.
“Very well then. You will follow him: into death. You will be
drowned in the Nile, and let it be a consolation to you that the holy
waters will take your miserable life...”
It
shouldn’t have come as a surprise, but Mana still was unable
to suppress the shudder when Atemu declared the death sentence. The
thief was just that - a silly, greedy, petty thief, but he could pay
for his crimes by working at the lands, in the mines, or at one of the
large construction sites. Any thief could work off his debt and learn
from his mistake, or so Mana thought. Besides, hard labour
wouldn’t kill anyone. She lowered her head, feeling sick to
her stomach.
The two guards
dragged the thief away, who erupted in loud curses and pitiful pleas,
screaming about his wife and children. His cries ended abruptly, just
barely outside the Throne Room; she suppressed another shudder. She had
only the faintest of hopes that the man would die quickly out of fear
instead of the anguish of fighting for the last gulp of
breath…her mind couldn’t even grasp the concept of
being drowned, and she was only thankful that she wasn’t
obliged to attend the execution. Her breathing came in shaky gasps; it
was impossible for her to stand still and to look in front of her as if
nothing had happened.
“Court
dismissed,” Atemu said, tone of voice rather bored. The
Priests seemed to loosen up a little and they all bowed one by one to
him before leaving their respective places, about to devote their time
to their usual chores and tasks. Mana heard the fabric of her dress
rustle when she bowed to him, her hands neatly folded and her head
lowered as she was taught to, and it was hard to believe that she once
counted the days until she was able to wear the robes of a Priestess.
They felt constricting and suffocating, instead of the prestige and
rightfulness she always associated them with. Every Priest of the
Pharaoh’s Court was wise, dedicated, devoted, strong and
rightful…but why did it felt so wrong to be here? Because
she was the only one without an Item – her teacher taking the
Sennen Ring with him as he fled - the only one still
learning, the only one able to take his place…but unable to
remove or cover up the stain he had left?
Mana hurried
to leave the Throne Room, glad that she could be away from the cold and
the gloomy environment. Things had changed over the course of the
years, and she knew who was responsible for it. She tried so hard to
keep everything, to keep the Pharaoh himself, in balance, but she was
slipping. She wasn’t strong enough for this; she missed her
teacher and his guidance, not to mention his wisdom and patience. Mahaado…teacher.
Why did you leave? We could’ve worked it out.
Didn’t you trust me?
Her hands clenched into fists, and the tears stinging in her eyes
weren’t from sadness or grief this time. It was pure,
unadulterated frustration and powerlessness - and she
would’ve given everything in her power to make things right.
Everything. Even her own life.
“Mana…Mana!”
She came to a
halt, her large dress flapping around her ankles, the fabric rustling
as the folds wrapped themselves around her body. The hood of her cloak
slipped from her head, revealing her hair, the thick locks framing her
face. She’d already recognized his voice.
“Yes,
High Priest?”
“You’ll
have to learn not to show your disgust so openly,” Set spoke
as he walked up to her. She hated the man’s impossible height
that made everyone automatically look up to him. His eyes were calm and
open, and his words were slightly reproachful, not scolding.
“He
might be a lowlife, a petty thief, but he’s a human
being,” Mana answered. “Working his debt to society
off in one of the mines would be punishment enough.”
“He
did enter the antechambers of the royal tombs, Mana. You know how our
Pharaoh feels about that…and how that weighs with his
judgment.”
“I
know…but he’s supposed to judge fairly and with
consideration, not by attaching his own emotions into the sentence. It
shouldn’t be like this. There has to be a fair trial for
everyone…”
“The
Phar…my cousin is a God,” Set dryly remarked. He
held the Sennen Rod clutched to his chest, the golden Item faintly
flickering whenever it caught a ray of light. “His judgment
will never be questioned.”
She showed him
a faint smile, not wanting to irritate him. Set was extremely strict
and straightforward; he simply said what he wanted to say, without
sugar-coating his words. He wasn’t one for
chit-chat or idle conversations; though it was indisputable how hard he
worked, it was also indisputable how honest and fair he was, be it very
blunt most of times. Only recently it had become known that Priest
Akunadin was Set’s father, and being the brother of the late
Pharaoh Akunamukanon, that made the High Priest and the Pharaoh
cousins. Set wasn’t the one to bemoan the fact that he
could’ve been the actual Pharaoh; he saw his duty and
obligations as his lifework and didn’t strive for any higher
position then he was in now. Still, sometimes there was a faint glimmer
in his eyes, harshness on his face and a little bitterness in his voice
to be heard - maybe an old remnant of jealousy or envy, or maybe a hint
of lament of not taking his chances after all…
Set snorted,
shifting his stance a little.
“You know him better than anyone,” he continued. “He will not allow much to get to him, but if he does…the one to cross him in his beliefs and convictions has a very, very big problem.”
Mana shook her
head, sending strands of her hair flying.
“This
is not the Pharaoh I know,” she said. “This is not
the person I grew up with.”
“He
is my cousin,” Set repeated. “He was raised even
stricter than me for his future duties and obligations as ruler and
Pharaoh. He could not remain the same person you always knew, Mana. The
burdens are heavy, the pressure is high. It is normal for people to
change.”
“It
is his Puzzle,” she whispered.
“Excuse
me?”
It
didn’t elude her that the High Priest intensified his grip on
the Sennen Rod.
“Those
Items of yours,” Mana said. “Mahaado knew there was
something wrong with them, something evil…”
“Do
you still believe that coward’s words?” Set asked
her derisively. It wasn’t exactly a secret that Set and
Mahaado hadn’t gotten along. The High Priest wasn’t
really friends with everyone, not even with his cousin, and he and
Mahaado had been all but despising each other from the moment they met.
To Set, only his own work and opinion mattered, as well as the state of
perfection he’d achieved in everything he did - something he
expected from his fellow Priests, and anyone unable to attain that
level was by default less worthy. Since his flight from the Royal
Palace, Mahaado had dropped to the lowest ranks of Set’s
opinion; not that he was up very high in the first place.
“My
teacher…” she started, but immediately fell
silent. He’s not a coward. He’s not!
“There
is a still so much you need to learn,” Set answered,
“and learning how to see your ‘teacher’
in a different light than the pedestal you placed him upon would be the
first thing.”
“He
had his reasons!” she hissed, unable to keep the strong
emotion surging through her in check. She hated it when people
criticized her former teacher, especially now that he wasn’t
around to defend himself. Her fingers clutched again at her dress. He
made a mistake by fleeing the Palace, and no one would let him live
that down should they find him again…but she doubted the
greatest spirit sorcerer of Khemet would ever be caught. It
wasn’t for nothing that the Pharaoh’s troops always
returned empty-handed from their search.
“Like
I said, still so much to learn,” Set looked down at her, tone
of voice almost bored, just like Atemu’s has been. In some
ways, the cousins resembled each other far more than they’d
care to admit. She shook her head again.
“He
had his reasons.”
“He
was afraid of dying.”
“Aren’t
we all?”
“No,”
Set immediately retorted. “Especially if it is for our
Pharaoh. No one could ever imagine that his loyalty was broken so soon
when death was in his neighborhood. He disappointed every one of us,
and our Pharaoh the most.”
“I
know,” Mana said, her voice low, apologetic. It was
a big mistake, and she was sure it had contributed to Atemu
becoming ruthless over the years. If Mahaado had been around, Atemu
more than likely wouldn’t have turned out to be like this,
the ruler people feared instead of respected, the emotionless Pharaoh
that barely smiled. She couldn’t remember the last time he
had held an open Court; both Akunamukanon and Atemu had been known for
their desire to stay in touch with their people, their own nation.
Holding an open Court would mean that everyone, no matter their social
status, was allowed to visit the Royal Palace and ask for advice from
the Priests and the Pharaoh himself. It all had changed, and she knew,
deep down inside, that her teacher and his…bad decision were
a great contributor to how Atemu was now. That, and that Puzzle.
“Those
Items,” she repeated, her eyes darting towards the Rod.
“They all have a certain power over you. A compelling,
corrupting power, and my teach…Mahaado knew that. It took
him half of his heka to seal the evil in his Ring
alone.”
“If
that is your way of explaining why he was so weak in his dueling with
his kaa, then it is certainly a lousy
one,” the High Priest said, unimpressed. “Mana,
take it from me: Mahaado was a coward. He might have had his reasons,
but he still left the Royal Palace, and his departure was disastrous
for my cousin, only for the sentimental reason that he missed his
friend. Your Master posed himself as a friend, but he did not think
twice to discharge himself from all his responsibilities and
obligations to leave his Pharaoh alone. I am glad though that my cousin
saw in time what sort of ‘friend’ Mahaado was, and
grew to be stronger from it.”
“No,
not stronger,” Mana objected. “Weaker.
There’s no strength in sentencing people to death, no
strength in cutting off all your emotions, no strength in losing
oneself in darkness.”
Set didn’t answer to that, but the expression on the High Priest’s face spoke volumes.
“I
will leave you to your duties now,” he finally said.
She bowed
quickly, nothing more than a slight nod of her head really - usually
the Priests didn’t bow to each other, but everyone made an
exception for Set. She waited until his footsteps had died away until
she all but ran through the hallway to her own room, throwing the door
closed behind her.
Chapter 2