Even with the wind whipping through her hair and fresh air in her lungs, Satiah could not bring herself to feel joy. She had always loved traveling by boat, drinking in the sun's rays on the top deck while the world around her slowly drifted by — but today, no such amusements could lift what was left of her spirits. The final hours of their journey to Thebes were winding down, and with it would come the inevitable arrival of a future beyond her control.
As the ship curved around the bend of Iunet, the shining city of Thebes came into view. The royal palace rose above the bustling city like a mountain, its enormous pylons flashing nearly white in the late afternoon sun. Satiah couldn't bear to look at it for more than a few moments, so she crossed the ship to the western side, leaning against the railing to watch the Thebes necropolis crawl past. The ship lazed by Hatshepsut's impressive mortuary temple, which was bustling with visitors and workers alike. Further on, the village of Set-Ma'at lay perched in the nearby foothills, guarding the entrance to the Valley of the Kings itself. Smoke from the villagers' homes floated up like white, hazy fingers, climbing the outcroppings in search of Ra's light. The sun was just now moving behind the ridgeline, casting long, triangular shadows down the mountainside to mark where each of the workers' own tombs sat nestled between the rocks.
Satiah traced her eyes along the winding roads to the top of the ridge, and she wondered whether she would be buried in the Valley along with her husband, or if she would end up entombed beside her mother and brother back in the Memphis necropolis — yet another aspect of her future that was clouded by uncertainty.
As Satiah contemplated the fate of her earthly body, her father came up beside her and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. She looked up and smiled at him, prompting him to give her a light squeeze. "Pondering the afterlife, my dear?" he said in a joking tone.
Satiah smiled wider. "Maybe," she said. "How long until we arrive?"
"At death's door? Who knows." Metjen laughed heartily when Satiah rolled her eyes. "But if you mean Thebes, we should be docking any minute now."
"I can hardly wait," Satiah said wryly. "What do the royals have planned for us this evening?"
Her father made a nervous sound. "Oh, you know, this and that. Introductions, awkward small talk." Satiah lowered her brow in suspicion. "And if I remember, the prince requested an hour or two of time alone with you as well."
"What?!" Satiah stood up straight, causing her father to release his hold on her. "And you're just now telling me this?"
Metjen's eyes went wide. "I'm sorry, Sati, it must have slipped my mind."
"I can't believe you agreed to that without consulting me," Satiah hissed, crossing her arms.
"My dear, neither of us is in a position to be refusing a royal request right now," her father chided. "Besides, the boy is harmless. I'm sure he just wants to take you on a tour of the palace. Can you blame him for wanting to have a conversation with his betrothed before he's married to her?"
"What for? It's not like it'll make any difference. Speak now, speak later — we're still chained to each other for the rest of our lives."
Metjen's face set with a fatherly look. "Now, Sati, you mustn't look at this like a death sentence," he said. "I know you never much cared for the idea of marriage — and to be honest, I was prepared to go to my grave without you ever settling down — but there is great honor in what you are about to do. You will sit at the right hand of the prince. That is the most powerful position you could have ever hoped for."
"I don't care about power either," Satiah shot back.
"Then you're not as smart as I thought you were," her father said. "Think what can be done with such power — what rules can be changed and traditions refashioned." Satiah turned her face away, considering the words. "Do you remember what you said, back before all this misfortune took place? You said you wanted to bring the Pharaoh back to the way of the light. What better way to achieve that than through his own son?"
Satiah knew her father was right. But even if she would be granted great power in her new position, she still felt woefully unequipped to wield it — especially without the strength and security of her ka behind her.
Her thoughts were interrupted when the ship suddenly slowed, causing Satiah to reach out and steady herself against the railing. Gradually, the vessel shifted its course east, heading for a large stone wharf at the foot of the royal palace. Satiah and her father both crossed to the other side of the ship in preparation to disembark, and as they did, Satiah caught sight of the Sacred Guardian Aknadin emerging from below deck. She had almost forgotten that the High Priest had joined them on their journey — she'd only seen him three times in as many days since they left Memphis. Why Aknadin felt the need to come be witness to her wedding, Satiah couldn't fathom. Perhaps the Pharaoh simply wanted all seven Millennium Items in one location, as some sort of intimidation tactic meant for her and her father.
As he stepped onto the top deck, Aknadin shifted his gaze to Satiah; she gave his one human eye a flinty glare in return. A moment later, he was joined by a tall young man with brown hair and eyes as deep as the Nile. He was dressed in blue priest's robes and wore a cylindrical hat in a similar shade. Standing side by side, Satiah thought he and the High Priest looked like shadows of one another — the same brooding faces, the same proud postures. The young man looked vaguely familiar to Satiah in his own right, but she couldn't put her finger on why.
Her inspection of the man was interrupted when the ship eased to a stop beside the wharf, and Satiah turned her eyes to the stone stairway leading up to the palace. A handful of royal servants were standing on the lowest platform, ready to assist with unloading their cargo. Further up the stairs, the royals themselves stood in a neatly formed line. Satiah could just barely make out the silhouette of her intended standing at the end of the row. On the landing behind them was another cluster of figures — the rest of the court, she presumed.
Commanding shouts brought her eyes back to the ship, where sailors were sliding the disembarking platform into place between the deck and the wharf. After it was secured, the royal servants rushed up and headed below deck to start the unloading process.
Taking this as their cue to disembark, Satiah and her father made their way down the platform to the wharf, followed soon after by Aknadin and the brown-haired priest. They walked, in two separate groups, up to the second landing, where the Pharaoh greeted them with a stilted smile.
When Satiah and Metjen came within reach of their king, they both bowed fully from the waist. Aknamkanon held his arms out as they straightened up, and Satiah was surprised when he suddenly stepped forward and embraced her father.
"Welcome to Thebes, envoys of Memphis," Aknamkanon said, releasing Metjen and turning to Satiah now. "Your presence has been eagerly anticipated." The king closed his arms around her and gave her a tight squeeze, and Satiah felt a shiver of mortifying awkwardness ripple down her spine. She managed to force a humbled smile when he pulled away, though she was sure her ears must be as red as coals.
The Pharaoh swept his arm to his side. "As I'm sure you remember, this is my oldest son, Tefnak."
Satiah turned her eyes to the left, where the crown prince stood as rigid and featureless as a statue. He offered her no smile (and thankfully, no hug), but he nodded stiffly in greeting. Satiah returned it with another full bow. "A pleasure to make your acquaintance, my prince," she said, in her best impression of a debutante.
"Likewise," he said flatly, then gestured to his right. "This is my wife, Nebetah, and my son, Meriti."
Satiah turned her attention to the two figures standing beside the prince. Tefnak's wife was infinitely warmer than he was, her smiling face all dimples and cheekbones. She had striking blue eyes, contrasting her rich skin and halo of tight black curls.
"Welcome to the capital, my lady," Nebetah said. She leaned forward and placed a kiss on Satiah's cheek, bringing the burn back to her ears. "Meriti, say hello to Lady Satiah. She will be your auntie soon."
Satiah looked down, where an adorable little boy stood entangled between Nebetah's legs. He had his father's brindled hair — which was woven into a braided sidelock — and his mother's glowing skin. His cheeks were flushed bright red, his chin tucked bashfully down against his chest. His mother shook his shoulder in encouragement, but all the child could manage to get out was a meek whine. Satiah was surprised when a genuine smile came to her lips.
"Sorry — he's a little shy," Nebetah explained. Satiah simply nodded in understanding.
The sound of a throat being cleared brought her eyes further to the left, where her betrothed stood, less stiff than his brother but not quite as proud as his father. She recognized him instantly from his crown of thick, wild hair — an unusual style, but one which Satiah thought fit him nicely. Though he fidgeted a bit and avoided her gaze while she moved to stand directly in front of him, she found herself intrigued by the unexpected tranquility in his violet eyes when he finally lifted them up.
As with the other royals, she bowed before him, and when she straightened, he cleared his throat again. "My lady, it's wonderful to finally meet you face to face," he said. Much like his eyes, his steady voice betrayed the slight disquiet in his features. "I hope you feel welcome in our home."
Satiah's lips twitched up into a brief smile. A curt "thank you" was all she could muster.
In the tense silence that followed, Satiah picked up pieces of the other greetings taking place, including her father's eager attempts at getting Meriti to talk to him. Atem's hand twitched, and for a moment Satiah thought he might try to embrace her, but he simply swept his arm out instead, gesturing to the group standing on the landing behind him.
"May I introduce you to the rest of the royal court?" he suggested. Satiah nodded, and Atem looked relieved as he turned to lead the way up the stairs. While they walked, Satiah heard Aknadin speaking with the Pharaoh. He introduced his traveling companion as Seto, and the name finally set off a glimmer of remembrance in her mind. Back before they'd severed ties with the crown, the Memphis Conclave was considering sending a troupe of apprentice spellcasters to Thebes to study under the High Priests and Sacred Guardians. Seto had been one of the most promising sorcerers in the group, having risen from poverty to prove himself in the presence of the Conclave. After the uprising took root, the apprentices were forced to return to studying under various priests throughout Ineb-Hedj. Aknadin must have stumbled across Seto while appraising the magical talent across the region.
"Seto has proven himself a strong and capable spellcaster," Aknadin said to the king. "He will make a very worthy steward of the Millennium Rod."
Satiah, distracted by the conversation, almost ran into Atem's back when he came to a stop on the next landing. She moved to stand beside him and offered another forced smile to the rest of the court.
"Satiah, this is Shimon, chief vizier to the Pharaoh and Guardian of the Millennium Key." Atem gestured to a short elderly man, who smiled and bowed his head upon being addressed. "This is Isis, Guardian of the Necklace." He swept his arm out to a slim, dark-haired woman, who bore the gold Necklace around her throat. "And Karim, Guardian of the Scales." A tall, muscular man with a short black wig gave a curt bow, and the Scales in his hand jangled softly.
"It's a pleasure to meet you all," she said, lowering her head in the direction of the Sacred Guardians. "Thank you for the warm welcome."
Satiah felt strange being encircled by all these mystical Items and their royal possessors. She thought being this close to them, she'd be able to feel their power — that they might be radiating black auras as if possessed by shadows. But there was nothing, not even a whisper of darkness from either the totems or their wielders — just the slight awkwardness of repartee between new acquaintances.
A moment later, Satiah's father climbed the stairs and came to stand before her and Atem. Metjen bowed, then offered his hand to the prince, who shook it with a slight grimace.
"Prince Atem," Metjen said. "It is an honor to meet the man who will soon marry my daughter. I have utmost certainty that you will treat her well."
Atem released Metjen's hand and nodded nervously. "With your permission, sir, I would very much like to escort Satiah on a tour of the palace."
Satiah could feel her ears burning again as Metjen tried to conceal an amused smile. "Of course, my prince." He turned to Satiah, then leaned forward and kissed her cheek. "Go and enjoy this lovely day, Sati. I'll see you later this evening."
Metjen excused himself to greet the remainder of the royal court. Atem gestured toward the top of the stairs, then set off up them. Satiah followed, making sure to sneak one last look of daggers at her father as she passed him; he winked in return.
At the top of the stairs, they passed through the pylons and into an extensive courtyard that was criss-crossed with a labyrinth of raised flower beds and trees. "These are the royal gardens," Atem explained, leading the way down a row of plants. "They say the oldest trees here were planted by Ramesses himself."
Satiah raised her eyebrows in feigned interest, though she was quite impressed with the flora and fauna. A welcome silence fell over them as they walked, allowing Satiah to watch birds flitting from tree to tree and insects buzzing around blooming flowers. On their way toward the palace proper, they passed a vast rectangular pond, almost lake-like in size. It was filled to the brim with lotus blossoms and had its own stock of fish swimming between the roots and lily pads. As they reached the corner of the pond, Atem stopped.
"The Sacred Lake," he said. "Here is where we will perform the ritual spreading of sands before making our way to the temple."
With this nettlesome reminder of their upcoming wedding, Satiah looked at Atem. Over his shoulder was a gate built into the wall of the courtyard, through which she glimpsed the city of Thebes beyond. A raised promenade stretched northwest across the city, connecting the palace to another impressive structure on the horizon. Karnak, Satiah surmised — the place where they would soon make their lifelong pledge before the gods. It would be a long and arduous day, one with many formalities and liturgies. Satiah found it odd how much esteem was given to a royal wedding, when such a union anywhere else in Egypt would be considered almost mundane.
After a brief pause to enjoy the view, the prince resumed his meandering tour of the royal residence and its grounds. Inside, they stopped over at the great hall, where servants were preparing for a dinner feast; they then briefly visited the library and passed by the throne room on the way to the royal living quarters. To Satiah's relief, the prince spoke very little — only enough to explain the purpose of a certain room or area before returning to pensive silence.
Though the residential wing was also filled with servants, these ones working to set up accommodations for the new visitors, Atem managed to clear them out long enough for Satiah to get a look inside the room that had been set aside for her. It was large and well-appointed, as she expected, and had one adjoining suite for her father and one for her handmaiden.
She crossed the room and looked out one of the windows, greeted with a lovely view of the sunset reflecting off the Nile. If it weren't for the fine linens, fancy window treatments, and ornate furniture, Satiah might have thought she was back in her own room in Memphis. As she looked out over the gardens, she reminded herself yet again that this setup would only be temporary.
Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of Atem inhaling sharply. "Well, the ceremony should be starting any moment. Shall we go down?"
Satiah gave him a perplexed look. "Ceremony?"
Atem raised his eyebrows. "Aknadin didn't tell you?" he said. Satiah cocked her head in confusion, causing him to grimace. "A month ago, Imhotep, the Guardian of the Millennium Rod, passed away from pneumonia," he explained. "Aknadin brought with him an initiate priest — Seto — to take up Imhotep's mantle. Seto is to take part in the initiation ceremony tonight."
Satiah sighed in frustration. Surely her father must have known about this detail, and yet again forgot to mention it to her.
"I'm sorry, I thought you knew," Atem said. "You don't have to attend if you don't want to."
"No, it's fine," Satiah said quickly, although the prospect of seeing the Items in action was still a bit troubling to her. "Let's go."
Atem looked hesitant, but he turned and led the way back through the living quarters and toward the throne room again. Spectators, mainly members of the court and other lesser priests, were already streaming into the main entrance. Once inside, Atem weaved his way toward where the rest of his family stood clustered on the dais where the throne sat. Satiah let her eyes roam over the room as she followed, mesmerized by the sheer size and vastness of it. The throne itself looked small in comparison, she thought, but as they drew closer, she was able to appreciate all the intricate details and artistry in its construction — the sweeping backrest topped with a glinting sun disk, the lion-headed armrests, running down to four clawed legs.
She and Atem climbed the stairs to the dais, where several other chairs had been lined neatly in two rows on either side of the throne. Some attendants were already sitting, such as her father, who had happily found a seat beside Nebetah and Meriti in the second row. Metjen was trying to amuse Meriti again — a bittersweet sight that for a moment distracted Satiah from the looming weight of what was to come.
Atem reclined in the chair directly to the left of the throne, then gestured to the open seat beside him. Satiah obliged. When she looked out at the throne room again, a sudden anxiousness washed over her. Dozens of priests and spectators had their eyes turned toward the dais, and it seemed like every single person was staring straight at her. It felt surreal, almost obscene, that she now found herself sitting two seats away from the most powerful man in Egypt, especially when mere weeks ago, she and her family had been clustered together in secret, all but cursing the king's name.
As if he had somehow sensed her thoughts, the Pharaoh crossed the dais to stand in front of his throne. This prompted a waterfall of activity — the Sacred Guardians all found their own seats, and the standing spectators began migrating to the perimeter of the room. It took Satiah only a moment to realize the void they left behind had the distinct oblong shape of a dueling arena.
The Pharaoh then raised his right hand, and a hushed stillness fell over the crowd. "We gather here today to witness the Initiation Ceremony, during which Seto of Saqqara will demonstrate to us his worthiness to inherit the Millennium Rod." The Pharaoh gestured to the right-hand side of the room, where two guards threw open a set of doors, revealing the dark-haired priest, the Millennium Rod already clutched in his hand. Seto strode into the throne room, his chest puffed out in pride. He stopped just inside the line of spectators, then looked toward the dais and nodded.
The Pharaoh lifted his left hand in gesture toward the other side of the room, where another set of guards opened the doors there, then disappeared inside them. They emerged a moment later to the tune of jangling chains, and Satiah had to squint to catch a glimpse of a very terrified looking man trapped in the guards' clutches. They dragged the prisoner through the line of spectators, then threw him roughly down into the arena opposite Seto.
Whimpering, the man scrambled to his knees and turned to face the dais. "Great Pharaoh, please have mercy on me! I do not want to lose my ka!"
Satiah felt her stomach begin to tie itself into nervous knots. She turned toward Atem, whose hand was raised to his chin as if in contemplation. After a moment of her staring, Atem took notice and leaned toward Satiah.
"Initiates must use their Millennium Item to summon a ka sealed in stone, and command it in battle against one belonging to a criminal," he explained in a low whisper. "If he defeats his opponent, Seto must then use his Rod to seal the criminal's ka — as is the Item's true purpose. The final step is different for each Item, but all initiates must first prove their strength in battle."
Satiah turned her eyes back to the prisoner, who was still pleading on his knees. The king held up his hand, silencing the man. "Heqab of Koptos, you stand accused of the high crime of plundering royal tombs. In lieu of your sentence, which mandates amputation of both hands, you will be given trial before the gods and judged by the Initiate of the Millennium Rod. Should you prevail over him, your sentence will be considered fulfilled. If you should lose, however, your ka will be forfeit in service of this sacred ritual."
Heqab, the prisoner, sobbed and kow-towed before the Pharaoh. "Please, my king — I beg you to reconsider. I was framed! I did not commit these acts! My ka is pure!"
But the Pharaoh did not concede. "Rise, Heqab, and face justice." Aknamkanon made one last wave of his hand, then sat back on his throne.
One of the guards trotted forward and unlocked Heqab's chains, then retreated to the edge of the arena with the rest of the spectators. Heqab staggered to his feet, still sobbing, and faced his opponent. Across the arena, Seto smirked cruelly. He raised the Millennium Rod high above his head and shouted: "I call on the mighty Battle Ox!"
A sound like a thunderbolt shook the arena, followed by a flash of light that streamed down through the ceiling of the throne room and enveloped the priest. The light flickered outward, and in its wake appeared a hulking, muscular beast, standing nearly two stories high and in full battle armor. Aptly named, it had the head of an ox and carried an axe whose blade looked large enough and sharp enough to cleave a man in two. The Battle Ox snorted and bared his teeth at Heqab.
"Summon your ka, coward," Seto called.
Whimpering, Heqab put his hands to his head in concentration. A moment later, he managed to summon forth his ka: a strange, vaguely humanoid figure made entirely of stone. The creature was kneeling with its arms crossed over its chest, its hands resting on two protrusions coming from its shoulders. A defensive monster, Satiah thought. An interesting matchup against Seto's bloodthirsty beast.
Seto smirked again, then pointed his finger toward his opponent. "Go, Battle Ox!"
Roaring, the Ox surged forward with his axe swung high over his shoulder. It took him only three strides to cross the length of the arena and bring his weapon down upon his foe. Satiah winced as a deep, crunching sound followed, but when she opened her eyes, Heqab's stone soldier appeared unharmed. She looked closer to see his ka had removed a huge sword made of rock from a slot on its shoulder and raised it to parry the Battle Ox's attack. Heqab pumped his fist into the air and let out a triumphant cry.
"Go, Stone Soldier — counterattack!"
Satiah gripped the armrests of her chair as the Stone Soldier unsheathed a second sword from its other shoulder before winding up and thrusting it into the Battle Ox's side. Bones cracked, and the beast let out an angry roar, then dropped back a few steps, cradling the new injury.
Satiah looked over to see the smirk gone from Seto's face, replaced with a grimace. "Not bad, criminal," he spat. "But let's see if you can get lucky twice in a row."
The priest ordered his ka to attack again. Reeling, the Ox composed himself and dashed to strike. With both weapons now readied, the Stone Soldier looked impervious to a physical assault. Sure enough, when the Ox brought his axe down, the Soldier raised one of its hulking swords and stopped the beast in its tracks. Just like before, the Soldier lifted its other arm to strike back.
Satiah almost missed it — in the split second between the Soldier's parry and its counterattack, the Ox shifted his grip on his own weapon, freeing one of his hands to block the Soldier's strike. The Battle Ox grabbed hold of the Soldier's hand at the wrist, its massive muscles flexing in resistance.
In the moments that followed, the entire arena seemed to be holding its breath. With a guttural cry, the Ox pulled hard on the Soldier's wrist. The still air broke with a sound like mountains turning to dust, and the Soldier's sword came crashing to the arena floor.
What followed was a scream of pure terror from the ka's owner. Satiah's blood ran cold as she realized the Ox hadn't just disarmed the Soldier — he had literally ripped off the creature's hand at the wrist. Satiah covered her mouth as Heqab collapsed, wailing in pain and cradling his own arm. Horrified, Satiah snapped her eyes toward Seto, who was once again wearing a sinister smile. Not content to simply defeat his opponent, Seto raised his arm and gave another order to his ka: the rabid Battle Ox lifted his axe and lopped off the Stone Soldier's other hand as easily as a cropper culling his wheat.
Satiah winced and looked away as the throne room filled with more of Heqab's tortured screams. She felt her body lurching with a need to stand — to flee from the needless torment assaulting her senses. But even with her face turned away, she could feel Atem's gaze on her, and his family's along with it. Fighting her conscience, she looked back at the arena to see Seto striding across it. He came to stand before the defeated Stone Soldier, who had since slumped forward with its limbless arms hanging limply by its side. Behind Seto, a group of priests were grunting as they erected a huge, blank stone slab near the edge of the arena.
Heqab's cries had since turned to pitiful whimpers, and he managed to pull himself to his knees as Seto raised the Millennium Rod. He pointed it at his conquered opponent's ka, and the smooth circular head of the Rod began to glow. With a fluid motion, Seto swept the Rod across his body and pointed it at the stone slab, and as if suspended by an invisible chain, the Stone Soldier followed. Eerily, it floated across the chamber, turning into a spectral version of itself, until it collided with the slab and was swallowed whole by the quiet stone sarcophagus.
Satiah felt the sting of tears as she looked upon the writhing husk of a man who lay at the priest's feet. She remembered all too clearly the sudden, pervading feeling of emptiness upon losing one's ka — a dull and morbid ache, as if one's living body had somehow been purged of its vital organs and then painstakingly embalmed.
Just then, two guards rushed out into the arena and took Heqab under the arms, dragging him back out of the chamber the way he'd entered. When the doors slammed shut, Aknamkanon stood and raised his arms. "The Initiate has been judged favorably by the gods. In their name, I declare Seto of Saqqara worthy to inherit the duty and power of the Millennium Rod. He will come to sit beside his king as a Sacred Guardian from this day, until death takes him. So let it be written, so let it be done."
The chamber erupted with cheers and applause, and all around Satiah the royals and Sacred Guardians stood to praise their newest inductee. Seeing an opportunity to remove herself from the situation, Satiah slipped between the chairs toward the back of the dais. The priests turned their eyes to her, and she could hear her father hissing her name, but she ignored them all and descended the stairs, circling behind the cheering spectators and making for the exit of the throne room. There, she burst out into the quiet hall beyond, her cheeks wet with the first of what she knew would be many tears.
AN: Phew! Longest chapter yet. Kudos for making it through! It felt a little unfair that Atem had gotten so much attention up to this point, so I wanted Satiah to get some pagetime of her own. Hope you're enjoying so far — leave a follow/fav/review if you did :)