Sinuhe the Silent

Pharaoh Akhnamkhanen held his son. The newborn was strong in his arms, a beautiful baby.

"I will call you Atem, Blessed by the Creator." The ruler said. "A strong name for a strong child. You shall be my pride and joy."

He turned to his wife, who was still recovering from the ordeal. Before she could say a word, however, cramps seized her again.

"What!? There is another?"

Another child. Like Akhnamkhanen and Akhnadin were twins, so would little Atem have a sibling. Giving birth to the second child was easy, but not for the expected reason: the boy she gave birth to was ridiculously small. The Pharaoh held him. So small was his frame his second son could fit in his two hands joined. Akhnamkhanen looked at him.

"So frail and weak… I will name you Sinuhe, Born of the Sycamore. Hopefully, you will grow stronger with time."

The little boy didn't scream like his brother. He wailed softly instead. The priests shared a look.

"Your Highness, we do not think the child will live long. He looks like he barely has any strength in his body."

"Nonsense." The Pharaoh dismissed. "Sinuhe will live. He is my son. Both of my sons will live long and merry lives."

In the darkness, Akhnadin shuddered. Twins, just like he and his brother. The memory of their strained relationship made his heart feel heavy. His brother didn't know it yet, but his sons were going to cause him a lot of grief. Sibling rivalry was very much a thing, and it was clear to him that little Sinuhe would end up resenting his brother for getting the lion's share of strength and attention.

However, it seemed that Fate had decided to prove him wrong. Atem and Sinuhe never fought, and Sinuhe never looked like he resented his brother. He was small and weak compared to his brother, even growing up. He was also quiet, hardly speaking unless directly addressed. Sinuhe the Silent, the people of the palace called him. The only one he openly talked to was his twin. And, contrary to what Akhnadin feared, he and Atem loved each other dearly.

"You will not inherit the throne." Akhnamkhanen told him one day. "You were born after your brother, and you are too weak and frail for that, anyway. A Pharaoh needs to be strong and wise. Wisdom, you will get with age. Strength? Alas, my son, I am afraid the gods decided to curse you with weakness instead. Why, I don't know. I can only make sure you do not suffer too much from it."

"Alright." Sinuhe answered in his small voice.

Small voice, small frame, small strength. All in the boy was small.

Except, as they discovered one day, for his heka.

It was an accident, really. Being small and quiet, Sinuhe was often beneath notice. One day he was visiting the city with his father and brother, the boy got lost, and his small size made him hard to find. Atem and Akhnamkhanen didn't realize he was gone until an hour later. The Pharaoh nearly had a heart attack.

"Where is he!? Where is my son?"

Atem, meanwhile was on the edge of panic.

"Sinuhe! Little Brother, where are you? Come on!"

It was only thanks to Siamun Muran, the bearer of the Millennium Ring, that they managed to track the boy. More exactly, they found the three thugs who had made the mistake of cornering him.

"We thought he was just a frail little boy." One of them winced. "We never expected him to scream and blast us with sand."

He and his two friends had scratches and scrapes all over their body, some still containing the sand which had abraded their skin.

According to them, upon realizing the three were out to hurt him, Sinuhe had roared like a lion and unleashed a violent burst of sand that had knocked them off their feet and scrapped their skin raw. Then the boy had fled out of the city. Akhnamkhanen gritted his teeth. If his son had fled in the desert, finding him in time was going to be difficult.

"Do we draw their ka Monster as punishment?" Siamun asked.

"No. They told me where Sinuhe went and their wounds will make them suffer for a long time. They were punished enough."

They took their horses and left the city, guided by the Ring.

In the meantime, Sinuhe ran. He hadn't meant to hurt the thugs, not so badly. But they had freaked him out and he had instinctively drawn upon the strange energy he felt around him. It was even more present now he was in the desert. The energy was all around him. He could feel it in the dunes, in the wind, in the clouds… Strange. He had never noticed it before. Maybe because the palace held little of it.

The wind pushed him as night fell, as if it wanted to guide him. The boy followed it. It led him to an oasis. The water allowed him to wash from the dust and the sweat and the grass was soft under his feet. There was also an energy coming from it, one different from the energy of the dunes. Sinuhe touched the fig tree and felt it clearly. This one was more familiar, already. He sometimes felt it in the gardens. Out of curiosity, he drew it to himself. His eyes widened when he felt it refresh him, filling him with new strength. At the same time, the fig tree seemed somewhat weaker. The boy's mind put two and two together.

"The energy is your ba? Thank you, then. I will use it wisely. Do you mind if I take some of your figs? They look juicy."

And they were. Sweet and juicy in equal part. They made a good makeshift dinner along with the shallots he dug. Then he laid on the grass and fell asleep.

Akhnamkhanen followed Siamun in the desert, Atem riding with him. They had been following the Ring for two hours, now.

"How can someone so small walk so far?" The Sacred Guardian asked, puzzled. "Your son is small and frail. By all measure, he should have fallen from exhaustion long ago."

Akhnamkhanen didn't answer. He, like everyone else, had always assumed Sinuhe's small frame meant he was weak. To make it this far in the desert, they had clearly been wrong. His son had an impressive stamina. At last, they found the oasis. Relief washed over all three when they spotted the boy's tiny form curled at the base of a fig tree. He didn't wake up when they approached. The Pharaoh took a moment to watch his youngest son. Sinuhe was sleeping tightly, curled on the grass with a relaxed face. He almost felt bad for waking him.

Meanwhile, Siamun took their horses to drink and snatched a fig. The fruit was good. Aknhamkhanen knelt and nudged Sinuhe. The boy hummed and rubbed his eyes.

"Wha…!"

Then he saw his father. The memory of the thugs' attacks came back full force. The boy jumped in the sand, wincing at its coldness, and drew the energy.

"Stay away!"

The Pharaoh shared a look with his advisor. They had heard the thugs' tale. To see it for themselves was a different story. Sand was whirling around the boy and the wind was blowing in an unnatural way. Sinuhe glared at them with fear and anger. Clearly, the boy was terrified. Akhnamkhanen raised his hands.

"Sinuhe, calm down. I am your father. I am not here to hurt you."

"But I can." Sinuhe's eyes filled with tears. "I didn't mean to hurt the thugs but I did. I don't want to hurt you. But the sands still react. They will hurt you, and I'm not sure I can stop them."

Siamun shook his head.

"This is heka, no doubt about it. A heka so powerful he has little to no control over it. Now, he is afraid it could get us hurt."

But the heka the boy used looked like nothing they knew. No one among the priests practiced commanding the wind and the sands. Their heka was more focused on light, darkness and spirits. Not only that, the boy's use of heka was completely silent. He hadn't said a word as he raised the sand whorl. Akhnamkhanen was forced to admit they were in uncharted territory.

Atem decided to act. Braving the sands, he walked to his brother. Sinuhe gasped and took a step back. The wind blew, pushing the three while carrying sand in their eyes. Atem ignored it, gritted his teeth and endured the assault, walking step after step until he held his brother tight.

"Hush. Easy, Sinuhe. It's alright. It's all alright. You're fine, Little Brother. We're all fine. Calm down, now. Hush…"

Trapped in his brother's embrace, Sinuhe slowly relaxed.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be." His father reassured. "It was an accident. None of us would have guessed you could use such powerful heka. But it's alright. You will learn to control it."

Even though none of them had any idea how. Indeed, even though the boy was accepted among the ranks of the priests, it was clear his brand of heka was fundamentally different from theirs. He wasn't able to enchant amulets or cast spells like they did, just like they were unable to command the wind and the sand or feel the ba of the plants. Sure, he learned the lore and the rituals, but those which involved heka were hopelessly beyond his grasp. The same way, the best the other priests could to do help him train was stay on the sidelines as he manipulated wind and sand, ready to interfere if he lost control. It was awkward on either side.

And yet, no one could deny Sinuhe's brand of heka had its use. Him blowing wind in the sails as they cruised the Nile massively shortened their travels, and he was once able to sense a sandstorm coming long enough that they could avoid it. Finally, his heka was much more direct, and thus more useful in a straight fight. Even though his body was frail, trained soldiers simply couldn't go near him if he commanded the wind to keep them at bay, nor could arrows, darts or pellets hit him.

All this time, he never said a word. It was another trait of his heka: it was silent. Fitting for a boy who hardly spoke. Akhnamkhanen was proud of his son. While Atem was initiated in the heka of the priests and turned to be quite proficient, his brother walked a different path. The difference didn't stop the brothers from being close. Sinuhe was a boy of few words, but he didn't need words to show Atem he loved him. Short hugs, squeezed hands, smiles as radiant as the sun, small demonstrations of tenderness that proved quiet little Sinuhe treasured his brother beyond words. And the feeling was very much mutual. Atem was the only one in the palace who could get more than a few words from his brother.

One day, fellow student Mahad was bitten while protecting Atem from a snake. They, Sinuhe and Mana were playing together when it happened. Atem tried to suck the poison out. Sinuhe used a different method. He turned to the palm tree and put a hand on it.

"Please, lend me your ba."

Then he held Mahad and focused. Green light came from the tree, passed through the boy and flowed into the bitten boy. Mahad, Atem and Mana watched in awe as the green light seemed to follow the boy's veins, eradicating the poison. Atem looked at his brother.

"I thought you could command wind and sand."

"Not only." Sinuhe shook his head. "I can sense the plants' ba too. I can draw it, but I prefer asking first. It lets me heal. I don't use it often."

Another kind of heka, also silent. On this, old Siamun agreed with Sinuhe. The ability to sense ba and control it was as terrible as the boy's elemental heka if used wrong. He wasn't surprised the boy asked first, and silently glad he only used the ba within plants. In the meantime, it was yet another form of heka they knew nothing about. It was annoying, not just because they couldn't teach the boy but because they had no clear idea what it could do.

One day, Sinuhe met a boy outside the palace. He looked a little over thirteen and was on his knees, clutching his arm.

"Are you alright?"

"My arm burns!"

Sinuhe didn't hesitate. He took him to a well, then used the energy he sensed to draw water and apply it. The teen breathed. Through the water, the boy could see a mark form on the teen's arm, a claw. Once it stopped glowing, it was a deep black.

"What's your name?"

"Kheper. And you?"

"Sinuhe."

He met Kheper again, after that. To his surprise, the older teen could also command the wind and sand, but his mastery was much greater than his. Not only that, he had a personal ka Spirit, a dragon as sentient as he was and whom he treated as an equal.

"This is my partner, Dragon-King of the Elements. Also, you can call me Haou. Since you're my friend, you can use my real name."

"Your real name?"

"Ever heard of reincarnation?"

He hadn't. Kheper/Haou explained. The thought made Sinuhe shudder.

"You're bared from Aaru, the Field of Reeds. That's sad."

"Not at all. The world has a lot to teach. Coming back to life again and again gives me the chance to learn it all. There's just this period of thirteen years where I don't remember who I am. It's a risky period for me because of how vulnerable I am. Luckily, I got Partner to watch over me. And if I leave something unfinished in one life, I can just pick it up in the next."

Alright, Sinuhe could see the upsides. In the end, Haou ended teaching him a lot about elemental heka. It was his specialty.

"Elemental magic is common, back home. We use it in our everyday lives. I guess Egypt doesn't have a lot of people with an affinity for it."

He gave him a drop of amber, as golden as honey. Sinuhe held it carefully.

"Amber is the crystalized lifeblood of trees. It is a gem, but also bound to nature. It will help you focus your magic better."

Sinuhe set the gem on a pendant which never left him. And, indeed, he could sense the energies from Earth and nature better and channel them more easily.

"Nature magic is rarer back home, but not unheard of." Haou explained. "Those who can use it are valued as healers and rangers. The tundra has no secret for them, and the best can save a man from the jaws of death. Unfortunately, though I know the theory, I can't use it at all so I won't be able to teach you."

"It's alright. Thanks."

Haou's homeland was far in the north, where day and night lasted half a year. It was a cold place, as harsh as the desert of Egypt, but the people of Wehs Afah, Eternal Sky, had still made it their home. And they were proud of it.

One day, Akhnamkhanen fell sick. The priests were unable to heal him, so Sinuhe decided to use his particular brand of heka and took his father in the gardens. Then he looked at the plants.

"I'm sorry. I really need your ba. Please, don't be mad."

Then he drew the natural energy and focused it on his father. It seemed to work at first. The plants wilted, their energy drained by the boy. And, indeed, the Pharaoh seemed to feel better at first. The court held hope.

But the disease was supernatural. As he drew the energy of the plants once again, Sinuhe felt it clearly. It was a darkness dwelling within his father, a hungry shadow eating away his life force. When he focused the natural energy to breathe life in his father, the darkness reacted and ate away more of Akhnamkhanen's force. The boy told old Siamun and the Sacred Guardians right away. The discovery crushed their hopes without mercy.

"The darkness he describes can only come from the Millennium." Akhnadin realized. "The seven Artifacts allow us to control darkness and spirits, and Brother has held the Millennium Pendant for many years. It seems the darkness it contains ended corrupting him. A regretful accident."

"What can we do about our Pharaoh, then?"

"Nothing. The darkness cannot be removed, and Sinuhe's ba manipulation can only do so much."

Akhnamkhanen died a few days later. Sinuhe looked down.

"I'm sorry. I tried."

"We know." The other Guardians reassured him.

That night, he snuck out of the palace. Haou was waiting for him on one of the dunes. He was a grown man, now.

"I'm sorry for your father."

"Thanks. I'm sorry too."

Haou handed him a medallion in the shape of a cartouche. On one side was his name in hieroglyphs. On the other was a word in a script he didn't know.

"What is it?"

"Afan runes. It spells the name I gave you: Lenhs Khai, Sorrowful Silence."

Sinuhe looked at him.

"Why do you stay?"

"Troubled times are coming." Haou frowned. "I feel like I'll be useful to you. Besides, I like you. Once the troubled times are over, maybe I'll ask your brother if you can follow me in Wehs Afah. You'll be able to further your knowledge of Elemental magic at our side and eventually bring it back to Egypt."

"Thanks. That's nice."

The funerals lasted many days. Once they were over, Atem was crowned Pharaoh… and the troubles foreseen by Haou came knocking.

Yes, Kheper/Haou is exactly who you thing he is.