You were an artist. The best in your land, and by gods, your land was big. People of high standing all across Egypt and into the areas of south-western Mesopotamia had come to know of your work. Kings traded you off between them to do works for them, and each time warranted a higher and higher price for your nimble hands and brilliant mind.
Each finished piece brought you anything you could ever want, and as a man who had once been stranded on the streets with nothing, well, one could say you wanted everything.
You had only recently finished a piece for the king of the city of Meskalamdug, and decided to take full use of his prized tattoo artists. Good ones were hard to come by, so you took what you could get at each destination you came to.
As you laid back and the man above you pierced your chin with a needle covered in silver ink, you contemplated where this king would send you next. Surely, it would be somewhere grand. He was auctioning you off, sending you out to the highest bidder, and the last you had heard, there were several kings and nobles outside of the desert who were wanting your hands.
Another person may have hated being treated like something to be bought, but as you sat back and watched the prices for you rise, all you could feel was pride. You had worked out of poverty, you had stood on top of the people you left behind to get here, and now you lived in the lap of luxury. You were basically king, if it weren't for the ruling part of the title. King of your craft, though, certainly.
The artist above you jumped from the sound of a distant door slamming open and misplaced his next mark, and you frowned.
"I thought you were the best here?" You snapped, grabbing the needle out of his shaking hands.
"I-I am, sir. I just-"
"Any artist worth his weight would block all sounds out while he worked so mistakes don't happen. I will do the rest myself. Leave."
"But sir-"
"I said leave!" You pointed at the door and the man slunk away. You pulled up a mirror and continued his work, which was really quite simple. You didn't need another person to do it, but you had been hoping for some time to relax. Clearly, you weren't going to get it if you wanted everything to be perfect.
You continued the bold line of silver that ran from the middle of your lip down your chin, stopping at your beard. You wouldn't cut off your beautiful hair just to have one tattoo run all the way down your chin; you weren't that desperate for your art.
It took well over an hour to do in the mirror, but when you were done, you were happy with the outcome. It went well with the golden tattoos running down your arms and back. A splash of silver on your otherwise dark face was eye catching and unsuspected, just like your art.
As you put your hair up into a bun, a messenger came to the room the king had so kindly given to you while you worked on his request.
"Sir, the king has chosen the next to receive you."
"It's about time." You said, checking yourself in the mirror one last time before standing and following the man to where the king would tell you of your next destination.
"Japan?" You asked again, slightly shocked that word of you had traveled that far.
"Yes, the emperor promised me two Jade dragons. Any other bid couldn't compete with that." The king responded.
"How do you expect me to get there? Walking a short distance from one city to another is one thing, but that is a very long journey. Sir."
"There is a trade ship in the south port, headed for china. I have arranged for you to take precedence over anything on that ship. I have also arranged for a cart to take you down there. I assure you, I do not intend for you to be stranded. I will certainly want your skills again someday."
You smirked and nodded.
"Of course sir, perhaps for your daughter's wedding? I've been told I can create a beautiful ring set, as well as henna like you have never seen."
The king laughed.
"Perhaps I will have her marry you, just so I can get such things for free!"
"Oh, sir, why would you get it free, surely I am marrying your daughter, not you?"
You shared another laugh, and then the king sent you off to pack your things.
As you packed your trunk, you couldn't help the giddy smile spreading across your face. You were traveling across the sea. Never in your early days, did you believe you would get this far. Perhaps a kind noble would buy a painting from your stand, but never actually commission something!
But now you were to travel across the ocean itself to bring your talents to a man who had only heard of you through rumors, who had paid for you with Jade dragons.
As servants came to collect you and your things, you schooled your expression. No one would get to see you as anything but cool and aloof.
You were loaded into a cart, and began your journey to the sea. The ride would take quite a few hours, so you settled back and began the long, arduous process of determining how you should act for your new employer. Each new king, Pharoh, and Emperor was a new person. You couldn't joke with your first employer like you did with the one you just left. You had to learn to adapt to each new place to be able to schmooze your way into the rich-folk's hearts, and to get more pay.
The boat was grand. You weren't familiar with sailing, but seeing such a large ship float was truly something else.
You were given a cabin all to yourself, and left alone to plan what you may need for your next piece.
It would take two weeks at least, to get to China, and another day to get from that port to Japan. It wasn't like you didn't have time to think, but you liked to be prepared, and to have a sample catalog that was different for each ruler that hired you. This emperor could choose outside of the catalog, of course, but it was always good to show him what you were capable of.
You began some sample sketches as you left the docks, and started your voyage.
It's wasn't until the third day at sea, that you really realized what being away from the desert would entail. Rain had been pattering against the boat for hours longer than you had ever witnessed, and it didn't seem to be letting up any time soon. The constant rain was giving you a headache, so you turned over in your hammock and tried to get some more rest.
Sea sickness was the worst thing to ever happen to you.
The seventh day, the storm had let up, but your relief was short lived as the waves caused your stomach to churn up last night's dinner, and you were stuck to the rails of the ship for hours as you puked every last ounce of food out of your stomach, and then some. You glared at anyone who came near, except for the crew chef, who brought you water to wash out the disgusting taste building in your mouth.
The eighth day, you were back at work, but kept a bin nearby, should a wave send you back into the sickness.
Day ten, another storm struck. You holed yourself up in your room as the crew shouted from the deck. You locked your door to make sure no one interrupted you, but the shouting continued through the deafening roar of thunder.
At one point, someone knocked on your door, but you refused to answer.
You didn't suspect anything about the shouts becoming screams, until the ship gave a violent shake and you were thrown from your seat. The lantern on your desk fell and rolled to the corner, and it felt as if your world turned upside down as the ship capsized.
Any prayer you sent to your gods was received too late, as your head hit a wall and you blacked out.