A/N: I know it stinks reading these words, but: this is my first fanfic. Hopefully it won't suck. I would very much appreciate no hate. :) Enjoy!
The room stank; a mixture of herbs, smoke and human waste made for a stench that made any stomach keel. But it was the only place Magnus could find solitude these days. The power struggle between Ptolemy and Cleopatra was coming to a head, and Magnus was right in the middle of it all. He barely trusted anyone anymore, and he was smart not to. Spies on both sides slithered through the palace halls; digging around for information about who opposes whom and reporting the "traitors" back to their employers. Thankfully though, there were some perks to being Lector Priest. Magnus could spend hours alone in the Room of Rites without anyone daring to bother him..
Sitting there, Magnus' mind was uneasy. It raced through the events of the day, Magnus' anger smoldering with each passing memory. His scowl deepened when a royal guard knocked on his door and announced "Master Priest, sir! You have an urgent visitor! Shall I send him in?"
"If you must," Magnus growled. It was probably that sad excuse for a pharaoh, looking for Magnus to perform some petty magic that would help him become a man sooner or-
"Ragnor! What are you doing here?"
"Well what the hell did you expect me to do, you dumbass? Sit around while my best friend mopes in the magic pit, letting the entire palace think you're crazy?"
The man who had entered the room was Magnus' best friend; the only person in the palace Magnus knew he could trust enough to confide in. He was a tall and skinny blonde, though he wasn't as tall as Magnus. The nineteen year old crossed his arms over his chest accusingly.
Magnus rolled his eyes. "I happen to have very good reasons to mope. And Ragnor, we're magicians. Everyone either thinks us crazy or thinks us something other than human. Sometimes both."
If Ragnor was at all fazed by Magnus' reply, he didn't show it. "Alright, then. You're dying to tell me. What's on your mind?"
Magnus glared at him. "Don't get me started."
"If I don't, you'll just be an angry bitch until it's out of your system."
Magnus sighed and raked a hand through his long black hair. "It's that boy again."
"Which one?" Ragnor asked. "That peasant kid who thinks it's funny to throw rocks at those of higher status? Because I understand why you'd be moping. He's been targeting me ever since that protection spell I had to-"
"Ragnor, no. Not him. Ptolemy."
"You mean the Pharaoh," Ragnor snorted. "Pardon me for not realizing you were addressing His Majesty when you said 'that boy'." Ragnor sat on the floor next to Magnus, sensing the inevitable lengthy talk.
"Whatever. He is only a boy; he's twelve. Anyway, that brat called me at noon to discuss the execution of Pompey. He was asking my opinion, as a Lector Priest, if disposing of him now would get him in trouble with the gods. I told him that killing a man who never harmed Egypt was not a wise decision. I figured of course he'd listen to me in a situation this important, but no. His advisor stepped in and proclaimed that Pompey is an enemy of Julius Caesar's and we must kill him to get on Caesar's good side." Magnus slumped in the chair he was sitting on. "Anyway, Pompey will be executed tonight and I must assist with the death rituals."
"So Pharaoh Ptolemy XIII has yet again overruled the word of a priest." Ragnor looked grave. "It's happening a lot more often now, Mags. I don't know what's doing it, but Egypt is not as great as it used to be. Something has broken."
Magnus snorted. "Yeah, it broke when Pharaoh Ptolemy XII gave the throne to both of his children."
"But don't let it bring you down too long, Magnus. Our magic is needed by every stupid bloke on the streets; if the government crumbles, our assistance and connection with the gods will be all the people have left."
Magnus knew what Ragnor meant, and he rolled his eyes. "Because they're idiots." The second the hierarchy of the Egyptian empire lost enough control to cause it to crumble, people from far and wide would journey to their priests to get protection from the demons that seem to be corrupting the world, or to get reassurance on how the gods were taking the whole ordeal. Magnus thought those people were petty and weak; as a Lector Priest, he knew that his job was simply the work of a few ridiculous dances and chanted words. There was no such thing as magic, after all, and the citizens of his empire were stupid enough to not realize that.
"Come on, we need to get you to a more comfortable place. If you're going to perform that spell tonight, you need to relax and get away from all this drama." Ragnor hauled Magnus to his feet by his wrist, and hauled him out of the Room of Rites and to his sleeping quarters. There, Magnus promptly collapsed on his bed.
"I need a nap," he informed his friend.
"That you do," Ragnor chuckled. "Don't worry, I'll wake you up a while before the execution. The spell is at dusk."
Magnus nodded his thanks to Ragnor and drifted off to the intoxicating oblivion of sleep.
A swift punch in the arm was what greeted Magnus back to the world of the conscious.
"What in the name of Ra was that for?" Magnus snapped. He rolled over on his mattress and spotted Ragnor leaning over him.
"The execution is going to take place soon," was all Ragnor said. Magnus groaned and sat up.
"Did the royal guard let you it?" Magnus asked.
"Who, the guard assigned to your quarters? Yes, he did let me in. In fact," Ragnor's mood visibly brightened, "he knows me quite well. His name is Dakarai." Magnus wisely decided to ignore that information and the implications behind it.
"Fine, whatever." Magnus realized he was still dressed in his robe he'd worn to meet with Ptolemy, and that it was wrinkled and creased. "Thank you for waking me. Now get out and fetch me a servant, Ragnor, unless you'd like to watch me undress."
Ragnor grinned and walked to the door. "I'm sorry, but that's a view I hope I never have to treat myself to. After all, my preferences are slightly different from yours." I suppose he only meant he knows Dakarai as a friend, Magnus thought as Ragnor left. Magnus doubted he would get a servant. Guess I'll have to dress myself, he thought. How unfortunate for the lucky servant who would get to do the honor.
Magnus picked out a slightly less colorful robe, because he was sure dressing in flowing rainbow robes would not be appreciated at an execution. He then grabbed his long curved ivory wand and made his way out of the room, not forgetting to nod appreciatively to Dakarai.
"So Ptolemy wanted a protection spell at an execution?" Ragnor raised a thick eyebrow and glanced over at Magnus. Usually protection spells were used to create amulets for the citizens or to put around woman giving birth.
"Yeah," Magnus answered in a whisper. "He doesn't want any divine beings interfere with what his royal advisor believes to be an 'imperative death'." He tried to keep the contempt out of his voice, but not very successfully.
Ragnor and Magnus were lined up with the other royal Lector Priests—so, two other people—and they were on the small raised stage, surrounded by the deafening crowd. Magnus had already drawn a circle around the place where Pompey was kneeled with his ivory wand, and he had already stomped around the circle, chanting and banging on a drum. Yes, Egyptian spells were a very intricate and complicated thing.
"My people! Quiet: your King Ptolemy is present," a chubby twelve year old cried. "You all know of Gnaeus Pompeius Magnus: the Roman general and politician who dared to betray Caesar." The crowd booed, and Magnus nudged Ragnor.
"He's got a nice cognomen," Magnus snickered.
"You share a name with a lunatic," Ragnor said, nodding. "Congratulations."
"SILENCE!" Ptolemy cried. "His actions against Caesar are only punishable by death, and here in Egypt we have no place for him; a man who can only bring trouble. He ran rogue and tried defeat bring Caesar on the plains of Pharsalus. This man has more than double the amount of men, yet still he lost and tried to find refuge here, in Alexandria. We will not let him use us! We will destroy him first!"
The large crowd cheered at the king's words, and the executioner swung the axe.
Magnus sighed as Pompey flopped forward, motionless. Blood ran across the stage. "At least Caesar will be happy with this," Magnus grumbled to Ragnor. His grumbling had to be loud; the crowd was screaming with delight. "After all, I hear he's pardoning all of his enemies. It would be kind of annoying to have to pardon your worst enemy."