My Home, Egypt
The creamy sand colored marble pillars held up the royal palace of Northern Ancient Egypt. There stood a statue, of Tristan-the Third, a man who had a short temper, and a quick tongue. It stood about 30 feet high, completely carved out of stone. The figure had a large stone double crown on the statue's head, with the man's hand at his sword. The man had stunning features, deep set in eyes with bushy eyebrows.
The palace itself was filled with the greatest works of many artists, only which the higher ranked status people of Egypt could take a glimpse of. A young man, with fairly dark skin leaned against the pillar. His dark purple eyes looked at the sand dunes, watching little sand storms die down. His arms were folded in front of him, as he looked at the now orange, yellow sun, now peeking from the tops of the dunes. His eyes darted to the Nile River, which had just flooded the month before. The wind blew a single leaf in front of him, which he snatched and crumpled it up.
"Your Majesty," a voice said.
The young man spun around, voice filled with boredom, "What is it this time Stefan? You know perfectly well that I do not like looking at parchment about sales everyday." He said, stealing a look at the parchment that Stefan held in his left hand. "Give me them once a month. That is all that is sufficient."
"Your Majesty," Stefan steadily said, "they are not about sales this time. It is your monthly report that you must write about the economy. You know that your father, Tristan the Third, does not like it when it is not on time." He said, giving the parchment to him.
"By Ra, I've forgotten about how annoying these stupid reports can be." He sighed. "Is they're anything else?"
"Yes, By your request about a new servant, to replace the one where your father had her head chopped up two moons ago, I have found a new servant girl."
"Bring her in. I would like to know her."
Stefan clapped his hands, and a girl, roughly around the boy's age entered the room shyly.
"Your Majesty, this is your servant girl."
The girl who walked in was fairly tall, and had a deep skin tone. Her eyes were blue, a deep, and thick blue. She walked gracefully and as she spoke, she had an accent to her voice, "It is a pleasure to meet and serve you Majesty."
"What is your name?"
"Isis, your majesty."
"Stefan, that will be all. I will have the report done by the 9th call tonight. (9:00 PM)"
"Yes, Your Majesty." Stefan said, bowing slightly as he exited the room.
"Tell me, where are you from?"
"Lower Egypt Majesty." She replied calmly.
"I mean, from what part."
"Southern Egypt." Was the reply. "I know it is not proper for me to ask you to do something, but would you be as to be so kind as to let my ask my question?"
"You may."
"Could you not stare at me so Majesty? It makes me feel nervous."
The boy shifted his glance, "I am sorry, uh-,"
"Isis, Your Majesty."
"Yes Isis, Well, please, you don't have to call me your Majesty, I have a name, it's Yami."
"But that wouldn't be at all proper!"
He sighed, every single time a new servant was hired, they would always insist on calling him, "Your Majesty." He hoped she would change, and be different then the past servants.
"I do not care of what you call me, as long it is Your Majesty in front of my father, Tristan the Third."
"Your Majesty! A noble in Southern Egypt would behead anyone who calls them by the first name!"
"So, you are from the south?" he sighed, everything was different there. Yes, his family did rule over Southern Egypt, but they had different ways of doing things.
"Yes, Majesty."
"Every single servant I have ever had is from Southern Egypt, and they act the exact same ways as you do. Do know that this is Northern Egypt!" he said crossly.
"I will think about it Majesty, I have heard that the servant before me has been beheaded." She said, wide eyed.
"No, Isis, she has been beheaded for the act of trying to poison my father. He is known for his temper you see."
"Oh, I see,"
"Either way, whether you choose to call me by "Your Majesty" or "Yami," I do still need to write a report about the economy. You may start to organize your room, which is down the hall and a right." He said calmly.
"Yes Majesty." She said as she walked out of the room.
His heart fluttered with sensation. 'Stop that,' he thought to himself, 'You have a report to write!' He sat down in front of his carved desk that was carved out of marble. He picked up his quill, an eagle feather that had been a gift from his father, and tapped it into the ink container. When he thought the ink was dark enough to write with, he brought it up upon his parchment. The quill lay idly in his hands. A drop of ink spotted the parchment. His eyes rolled down to the parchment, and he ripped the top off. He sighed and started to write.
A couple of hours later, Yami was interrupted by Isis, who was carrying a bowl of tea.
'Your Majesty, if you please,' she said as she held out the bowl.
His eyes lifted from above the parchment as he accepted the bowl. His eyes were tired. His fingers ached from writing the report. He got up from his seat as he stood up to stretch. The sun had setted hours ago.
'How long have I been writing this stupid report?'
'2 rings and a half, Majesty.' She told him.
Two hours. A combined day's work and a stupid report combined would make him grumpy. He yawned, stretching his arms above his head. At last, he put the royal seal onto the parchment.
'I believe that it is past the 8th ring and a half, am I right?' he questioned, raising an eyebrow.
'Yes Majesty.'
He finished the last of his tea as he handed the bowl back to her. 'Thank you,'
'There is no need for you to thank me.' She said quietly as she exited the room.
He too, got up, and reached for the parchment, and walked to the area were Stefan worked.
'Majesty! So soon! You need not to bring it to me! I was just about to go to you!' he cried.
Yami rolled his eyes. 'Even to-be Pharaohs need to exercise you know. Otherwise we'll become fat and clumsy.'
'But still!'
'There is no need for that. Tell me, where did you find the girl called Isis?' he asked.
'Oh, her, all I know is that your father, Tristan the Third told his guards to grab any strong-healthy girl, Majesty.'
'Again? Is this how he chooses his servants?'
Stefan nodded, 'If your Majesty pleases, I do need to get the parchment to your father.'
'Very well,' he replied. 'I shall be asleep then. Good Night.' He turned and walked into the direction of his chambers.
* * *
The morning sun rays lightened up Yami's Chambers. He groaned as he woke up, shielding his eyes from the sun. He yawned as his feet hit the cool floor. Footsteps sounded on the floor, and he turned around. There stood Isis, a couple of sparrows on her shoulder. She shooed them off, quietly saying, 'Shoo, I have to work now. I'll be with you later.' The sparrows obeyed, and she turned back to face Yami.
'Is there anything that you need Majesty?'
He shook his head. A clatter of footsteps, and a head popped out from the door. Stefan stood there, breathlessly, 'Majesty! Weevil! Attack! Hurry!' he said as he collapsed on the floor, breathless.
Yami, instantly alert, looked at Isis, 'I need my weapons. I must fight for Egypt.' She nodded and instantly ran off to find the armor.
* * *
A/N: Little funny part is from a school thing. I often call my friend Joan Little Eagle, (in chinese) so this kinda relates to the eagle quill.
Joan: HOW DARE YOU PLUCK MY FEATHERS!
Conz: Bwink. I needed it as a prop for my stories!
Joan: RRAGH! (chases conz with a frying pan)
Conz: Wait! You're supposed to peck me!
Joan: Oh right. *peck*
Conz: T.T!!!
The creamy sand colored marble pillars held up the royal palace of Northern Ancient Egypt. There stood a statue, of Tristan-the Third, a man who had a short temper, and a quick tongue. It stood about 30 feet high, completely carved out of stone. The figure had a large stone double crown on the statue's head, with the man's hand at his sword. The man had stunning features, deep set in eyes with bushy eyebrows.
The palace itself was filled with the greatest works of many artists, only which the higher ranked status people of Egypt could take a glimpse of. A young man, with fairly dark skin leaned against the pillar. His dark purple eyes looked at the sand dunes, watching little sand storms die down. His arms were folded in front of him, as he looked at the now orange, yellow sun, now peeking from the tops of the dunes. His eyes darted to the Nile River, which had just flooded the month before. The wind blew a single leaf in front of him, which he snatched and crumpled it up.
"Your Majesty," a voice said.
The young man spun around, voice filled with boredom, "What is it this time Stefan? You know perfectly well that I do not like looking at parchment about sales everyday." He said, stealing a look at the parchment that Stefan held in his left hand. "Give me them once a month. That is all that is sufficient."
"Your Majesty," Stefan steadily said, "they are not about sales this time. It is your monthly report that you must write about the economy. You know that your father, Tristan the Third, does not like it when it is not on time." He said, giving the parchment to him.
"By Ra, I've forgotten about how annoying these stupid reports can be." He sighed. "Is they're anything else?"
"Yes, By your request about a new servant, to replace the one where your father had her head chopped up two moons ago, I have found a new servant girl."
"Bring her in. I would like to know her."
Stefan clapped his hands, and a girl, roughly around the boy's age entered the room shyly.
"Your Majesty, this is your servant girl."
The girl who walked in was fairly tall, and had a deep skin tone. Her eyes were blue, a deep, and thick blue. She walked gracefully and as she spoke, she had an accent to her voice, "It is a pleasure to meet and serve you Majesty."
"What is your name?"
"Isis, your majesty."
"Stefan, that will be all. I will have the report done by the 9th call tonight. (9:00 PM)"
"Yes, Your Majesty." Stefan said, bowing slightly as he exited the room.
"Tell me, where are you from?"
"Lower Egypt Majesty." She replied calmly.
"I mean, from what part."
"Southern Egypt." Was the reply. "I know it is not proper for me to ask you to do something, but would you be as to be so kind as to let my ask my question?"
"You may."
"Could you not stare at me so Majesty? It makes me feel nervous."
The boy shifted his glance, "I am sorry, uh-,"
"Isis, Your Majesty."
"Yes Isis, Well, please, you don't have to call me your Majesty, I have a name, it's Yami."
"But that wouldn't be at all proper!"
He sighed, every single time a new servant was hired, they would always insist on calling him, "Your Majesty." He hoped she would change, and be different then the past servants.
"I do not care of what you call me, as long it is Your Majesty in front of my father, Tristan the Third."
"Your Majesty! A noble in Southern Egypt would behead anyone who calls them by the first name!"
"So, you are from the south?" he sighed, everything was different there. Yes, his family did rule over Southern Egypt, but they had different ways of doing things.
"Yes, Majesty."
"Every single servant I have ever had is from Southern Egypt, and they act the exact same ways as you do. Do know that this is Northern Egypt!" he said crossly.
"I will think about it Majesty, I have heard that the servant before me has been beheaded." She said, wide eyed.
"No, Isis, she has been beheaded for the act of trying to poison my father. He is known for his temper you see."
"Oh, I see,"
"Either way, whether you choose to call me by "Your Majesty" or "Yami," I do still need to write a report about the economy. You may start to organize your room, which is down the hall and a right." He said calmly.
"Yes Majesty." She said as she walked out of the room.
His heart fluttered with sensation. 'Stop that,' he thought to himself, 'You have a report to write!' He sat down in front of his carved desk that was carved out of marble. He picked up his quill, an eagle feather that had been a gift from his father, and tapped it into the ink container. When he thought the ink was dark enough to write with, he brought it up upon his parchment. The quill lay idly in his hands. A drop of ink spotted the parchment. His eyes rolled down to the parchment, and he ripped the top off. He sighed and started to write.
A couple of hours later, Yami was interrupted by Isis, who was carrying a bowl of tea.
'Your Majesty, if you please,' she said as she held out the bowl.
His eyes lifted from above the parchment as he accepted the bowl. His eyes were tired. His fingers ached from writing the report. He got up from his seat as he stood up to stretch. The sun had setted hours ago.
'How long have I been writing this stupid report?'
'2 rings and a half, Majesty.' She told him.
Two hours. A combined day's work and a stupid report combined would make him grumpy. He yawned, stretching his arms above his head. At last, he put the royal seal onto the parchment.
'I believe that it is past the 8th ring and a half, am I right?' he questioned, raising an eyebrow.
'Yes Majesty.'
He finished the last of his tea as he handed the bowl back to her. 'Thank you,'
'There is no need for you to thank me.' She said quietly as she exited the room.
He too, got up, and reached for the parchment, and walked to the area were Stefan worked.
'Majesty! So soon! You need not to bring it to me! I was just about to go to you!' he cried.
Yami rolled his eyes. 'Even to-be Pharaohs need to exercise you know. Otherwise we'll become fat and clumsy.'
'But still!'
'There is no need for that. Tell me, where did you find the girl called Isis?' he asked.
'Oh, her, all I know is that your father, Tristan the Third told his guards to grab any strong-healthy girl, Majesty.'
'Again? Is this how he chooses his servants?'
Stefan nodded, 'If your Majesty pleases, I do need to get the parchment to your father.'
'Very well,' he replied. 'I shall be asleep then. Good Night.' He turned and walked into the direction of his chambers.
* * *
The morning sun rays lightened up Yami's Chambers. He groaned as he woke up, shielding his eyes from the sun. He yawned as his feet hit the cool floor. Footsteps sounded on the floor, and he turned around. There stood Isis, a couple of sparrows on her shoulder. She shooed them off, quietly saying, 'Shoo, I have to work now. I'll be with you later.' The sparrows obeyed, and she turned back to face Yami.
'Is there anything that you need Majesty?'
He shook his head. A clatter of footsteps, and a head popped out from the door. Stefan stood there, breathlessly, 'Majesty! Weevil! Attack! Hurry!' he said as he collapsed on the floor, breathless.
Yami, instantly alert, looked at Isis, 'I need my weapons. I must fight for Egypt.' She nodded and instantly ran off to find the armor.
* * *
A/N: Little funny part is from a school thing. I often call my friend Joan Little Eagle, (in chinese) so this kinda relates to the eagle quill.
Joan: HOW DARE YOU PLUCK MY FEATHERS!
Conz: Bwink. I needed it as a prop for my stories!
Joan: RRAGH! (chases conz with a frying pan)
Conz: Wait! You're supposed to peck me!
Joan: Oh right. *peck*
Conz: T.T!!!