Acamapichtli (ah-kah-mah-PEECH-lee) = Handful of Reeds.
Egyptian
Latin
Chapter One.
Acamapichtli looked around the museum with interest, unlike his classmates. They were here on a school trip about the History of America-A rather broad topic, but the teacher, Mr Faber, was limiting it to The Wild West, The Civil War, and the American Presidents. Cam would have found it interesting, had the old man done more than reel off dates and statistics in his monotone voice. The sort of history he was interested in was how people lived, if that made sense.
His vague disinterest (he would be okay on the trip because he was recording his teacher's speech to take notes later- knowing the cranky man, he would give a quiz at some point) might also have something to do with the fact that he preferred Ancient History- The Greeks, the Romans, the Egyptians. This was inherited from his paternal Grandfather, who had been well-known in the area of Classical Studies, and, as the man had practically raised him, this had been passed down, bypassing his father, and taking firm hold in Cam.
His Avus had died three years ago, when Cam was ten, and, much to his father's fury and Cam's shock, he had been made heir to the family fortune, and would inherit anything and everything on his sixteenth birthday. Privately, Cam was of the opinion that his father was more angry at the fact that, according to the Will, he was to have no access to the money, not even if Cam died before him- If that was to occur, a full investigation was to be launched on his death, and the inheritance split to several charities.
It was also the reason the teen attended the school he did. Collegiate School was a premier all-boys school in the City, and he had been in attendance for as long as he could. His future years at the school had already been paid for, and was non-negotiable, so his parents couldn't pull him out and get the money back, much to their frustration.
This was not to say that this deprived his parents of any income, however; his father had been a Lawyer with Sampson & Son for years now, and his mother was a model. Both bought in hefty incomes, which was generally negated by the fact that neither of them put a limit on how much they spent, and always went for the most expensive, most luxurious option above all. The three lived in a large house with several servants- a Cook, a personal Maid for his mother, a Valet for his father, a Butler, a Housekeeper, and a Chauffeur.
His parents also lived in separate wings of the house- theirs had been a marriage of mutual convenience, not love. The only reason he was conceived was because his Avus demanded his son produce the next generation of the Charlestons. There was no love lost. Frankly, the only reason Cam had money to spend to care for himself was because $50 a month was deposited into his bank account from his inheritance. This would not dent it, as it still received profits from the investments that had been made. It would continue to grow. Regardless of his hefty allowance, money did not fall through his fingers like water as it did with his parents. Sense had been firmly drilled into him by his Avus, who had been a cold man to those who did not know him, and had a sharp mind.
"Alright then." The irritated voice of Mr Faber jerked Cam out of his thoughts. "It appears that the coach to take us back to the school has been involved in an accident, so we are going to be staying here for a while."
Many of the kids groaned, but Cam perked up. This gave him a chance to see the Roman Diorama and pay a respectful visit to Pharaoh Ahkmenrah. Who exactly decided that putting the dead on display needed a kick up the arse in his opinion. It was damn well disrespectful.
Moving away from the group, stowing away his recorder, the history-loving teen passed a man in a suit and bow-tie who looked very distressed when some of his schoolmates goofed around the T-Rex- probably the Curator, then- heading towards the Hall of Miniatures.
The Hall was fairly deserted- well, it was school hours, and a weekday to top it off- when Cam got there.
Crouching down, he examined the display he'd came to see.
A small model of a Roman city had been built, with civilians roaming the streets and houses.
To the left of the city, was the barracks. Lines of soldiers were set up, some looking to be performing drills. Overseeing this all was a General. Focusing on him, Cam read the small plate in front of the figure.
"General Octavius." he murmured. "Hmm. The name is not familiar to me. However, I focus more on the culture of civilisations, not their wars, so there is good reason for that, I suppose. I shall endeavour to fix this fault in my knowledge later." He always did when he came across anything new about his favoured cultures. "They did a good job on the display. Wait...how did they figure to make a Roman City without a Coliseum? It's an integral part of Roman society from what Avus taught me."
Standing from his crouch, Cam moved around the exhibit, noting the culture that he loved, and grimacing if he came across something wrong or noted something that was needed to make the display more lifelike.
"Yes, yes, it's not perfect, I know."
Spinning around at the tetchy voice, the teen came face to face with the man he had seen earlier, the Curator, if he was right.
"Sorry, I'm a perfectionist. May I have your name, Sir?"
"Hmm, polite." the man extended a hand, which Cam shook. "Doctor McPhee, Curator of the Museum."
"Acamapichtli Charleston, Doctor McPhee. It's a pleasure. My name is usually shortened to Cam so as to be easier on the tongue."
"Charleston!" the man yelped. "Are you possibly related to Tybalt Charleston?"
"He was my Avus." at the confused look, he elaborated "My Grandfather."
"I was sorry to hear of his death. I've always admired his work."
"Thanks."
"So you're interested in the Romans?"
"Ancient History." Cam grinned. "Being practically raised by the great Tybalt Charleston had it's impacts. Not that I'm complaining, I had a fantastic childhood, and I love history."
"He raised you?"
"My parents' marriage was one of convenience, and I was only conceived to provide a Heir as per Avus's demands."
Cam felt no compunctions in explaining this. He had long gotten over the circumstances of his birth.
"Oh." floundering slightly, Doctor McPhee changed the subject. "Have you visited the Pharaoh yet? I mean, being interested in Ancient History and all."
"Paying him a visit is in my plan for the free time I've got now that our bus is delayed." he agreed.
"Damned disrespectful, what they do with mummies." McPhee muttered with a scowl. Cam was intrigued when he saw something flicker in the man's eyes.
"I couldn't agree more." The teen agreed with a grimace. "Even so, I shall visit to show my respect of him and his culture. I suspect...if he could hear me, it would be of great comfort for him to hear someone speaking his own tongue. Call me sentimental, but if I'm at an exhibit that's Roman, Greek, or Egyptian, I find myself speaking the language that corresponds with the exhibit."
At the man's surprise, Cam explained that his Avus had raised him speaking the languages.
"Yes." the Curator murmured, a strange tone to his voice. "I think he'll like that." Pulling himself back to wherever his mind had wandered off to, he clapped his hands and declared. "Well, I shan't keep you. It was nice to meet a fellow Historian, Master Charleston."
Cam stopped at the entrance to the Pharaohs exhibit, eyeing the two Jackal guardsmen in appreciation.
"I mean your Pharaoh no harm." he said quietly. "I merely wish to pay my respects, despite the disrespectful way he is treated." With that, the teen stepped into the exhibit, instantly recognising some of his schoolmates, who were fooling around and complaining that they couldn't actually see the corpse.
"I would have thought." the well-bred teen bit out crisply "That you five would have better things to do than make fools out of yourselves. Really, what would your followers say if they caught you showing even a vague interest in History? I would think it would rather ruin your image boys."
"Shut it Peachy." One snarled.
"Original, really." Cam drawled, raising an eyebrow, his face slipping into the blank, cold look that all the Charlestons wore in public. Cam didn't use it very often. As it so often did, the look sent the teens scampering away from him.
"My apologies, Pharaoh Ahkmenrah." he bowed formally. "I would have greeted you the instant I entered your room, but I thought you would prefer it if those disrespectful children left."
Moving around the room, Cam stopped in front of the tablet and read the inscription. "You will find the combination you seek if you figure out the secret at the heart of Pharaoh's tomb. Well that sounds mysterious."
Cam moved quietly around the room, contemplating the contents of the tomb- or rather, what remained of it.
"Oi, Peachy!" a voice yelled, and the teen turned to see one of the more agreeable boys hovering nervously at the entrance, his gaze flickering from the Guards, the Pharaoh, and Cam. "C'mon, it's time to get out of here- a women's group who came here for the day have enough room on their bus for us, and are gonna drop us at school."
"I'll be up in a moment, Bates. Thanks."
As the teen shot away from the room- he was terrified of dead things- Cam turned to the Pharaoh and bowed.
"My apologies for ending this visit so abruptly, My Pharaoh." he apologised. "Fortunately I have not finished here, and so will return this weekend. My thanks for your hospitality."
That weekend, as promised, Cam was back in the Pharaoh's exhibit, puttering around and speaking to Ahkmenrah quietly every now and then. Unfortunately, the tranquillity was interrupted by the arrival of one of his school rivals and his family.
"White." Cam nodded cordially, for the sake of the small child tagging at the teen's side if nothing else.
"Peachy." White sneered.
"Oh, do you know Niall?!" the woman- obviously his mother- asked excitedly, clinging to her husband's arm like a little girl.
"I go to Collegiate Ma'am. We are rivals of a sort. Generally we tie for top spot- competition does make one work harder, I find."
"How often does Nathan beat you?" the patriarch of the family asked smugly, clearly expecting the answer to be in his son's favour.
"He beats me rather well in the Sciences and Mathematics, I trump him for History, RE and English, and we often tie for PE."
"Ah, well, Science and Maths require real brains, I suppose."
"It does depend on where you lean in your educational desires." Cam absolutely refused to rise. He'd had worse from Kathleen- his Mother.
"Daddy, m'bored." The little angelic-looking girl pouted.
"Alright, Sweetheart, let's get out of here." the man agreed, completely ignoring Cam.
"Good plan, Honey, being in the same room as a corpse creeps me out."
The family shuffled out, the girl rambling about ice-cream. Apparently, her favourite flavour was raspberry. Personally, Hunter liked Honeycomb, Caramel, or Mint Choc Chip.
His watch beeped, and Cam grimaced.
"Wonderful." Turning to the Casket, he bowed. "Yet again, my visit is cut short, Pharaoh. My apologies, but I am needed- Kathleen is being interviewed today, and is presenting herself as a loving Mother at present, so my attendance is required. Being late is not worth the fit she would throw later."
Walking out of the room with a nod of respect to the Jackal Guards, Cam moved down a quiet hallway, and yelped when he was shoved into a small janitor's closet.
"See ya round, Peachy." White sniggered, jamming the door firmly shut.
Unfortunately for Cam, he stumbled over a broom on the floor, and hitting his head on a pipe, crumpled to the floor, unconscious.