"Alya!" Miriam cried out in relief as soon as she entered the maharama. "Please finish the moraras for me, while I make fasooliyeh, and Numa, find your brothers!" Alya took her mother's place before the flat large flat stone that served as a type of oven. The dough was in a bowl and her mother had been kneading it, so Alya quickly rubbed her hands in flour, and began to knead. Moraras was a kind of flat bread that was often served in stew or sometimes eaten plain in the mornings. Tonight they were eating it in fasooliyeh, a tomato stew with beans in it. This particular combination was Haytham's favorite and had to be carefully watched until it was time to eat. Once she was satisfied with the constancy of it she began pulling them off and forming balls with them, placing them on the steaming rock. Form, place, flip, form, place, flip, place on plate; she fell into the easy soothing rhythm and she felt the tension in her shoulders begin to leave. Sighing, she sat back on her heels, and wiped a stray strand of hair off of her forehead.

"Are you done?" Miriam looked up from the pot she was bent over.

Alya nodded and opened her mouth but was interrupted by the entrance of her father.

"Ahh, there is nothing like coming home to a delicious meal prepared by the most beautiful of women!" Joash exclaimed as he strode into the tent with a jovial smile, a wink for his eldest daughter and a kiss for his wife.

Miriam rolled her eyes and laughed at her husband's foolishness. "After seven children, dear husband, I am hardly the most beautiful of women."

"To me, my desert blossom, you are." Joash went behind the partition that hid his and Miriam's bed from the rest of the tent and returned with a blanket, which he spread on the ground well away from the fire. "Miriam, I am feeling rather tired, I believe that I will take a brief nap before I have dinner. You and the children feel free to eat," He gave a sharp look to his youngest son, "As long as there is a decent sized portion of fasooliyeh left for me." Haytham smiled brightly at his father, as he edged closer to his mother and the pot she was stirring.

"Numa, did you get the bowls like I asked you too?" Miriam asked, looking over to her second daughter, who nodded and pointed to where they sat by the fire. "Excellent then we will eat." She dished out thefasooliyeh among all of her children, and Alya gave them each a piece of moraras, and they all sat around the fire, and began to eat.

A piercing scream made Alya drop her bowl, and scramble to her feet. At the same time Joash sprang up with his scimitar hand, while Malik pulled his out of his robes. They both stood in front of the tent blocking the invaders from the women and children. Miriam grabbed Haytham and ran with him towards where their animals where enclosed closely followed by Alya clutching Zaharah with one arm, and crying out for Numa to follow. Crouching down they crept among the camels and hid behind their large furry bodies. Shivering, Zaharah clung to Alya's neck, and buried her face in the front of her thobe. Patting her back, and rocking her gently Alya turned her head to look for Numa, and her stomach twisted when she realized that she was not there.

"Ummu, Numa isn't here!" Alya whispered to Miriam, and their eyes met, both of them wide. "I've got to go after her!" Slipping to her feet, she placed Zaharah down in the sand and went to leave the corral.

"Alya, no!" Miriam whispered furiously. "Stay here!" She reached out to grab her arm, but her fingers met air as Alya seemed to flit away. Miriam moaned, and reached for Zaharah who had tears streaming down her face as she threw herself at her mother.

The camp was in complete chaos as she threw herself into the melee; one tent was burning, and several had been knocked to the ground. Men in red were fighting with the men of her tribe, bodies appearing a disappearing through the smoke. Her eyes and lungs burned as she ran through all of the commotion; ducking behind tents, around sweaty bodies, and staying away from anyone swinging anything sharp and silver.

"Numa!" She cried out, as she got closer to the center of the camp. "Numa where are you?!" The men in red seemed to be losing, but Alya didn't want to take any chances as she continued to go through camp searching for Numa.

"Numa!" she screamed in desperation. Why wasn't she answering? Spinning around, she felt tears forming in her eyes as she searched futilely for a small shape among the red and black fighting bodies. Suddenly she saw a dark shape huddled against a tent. It was her! Tears coated her face, coming from wide eyes as she pulled closer to the tent. Alya flew over to her side and wrapped her arms around her. "Come on, sister, we need to go!" she said, trying to pull her to her feet. Numa shook her head, whimpering. Alay struggled to lift her to her feet, but Numa went limp, and began sobbing. Covering her with her body, Alya sank to the ground in front of her as Numa curled against her burying her face in her thobe. Alya looked up and around searching for an end to the conflict, thankfully most of the fighting was dying down, and it was obvious that the Med-Jai would win. All of the men lying on the ground were in red; almost no one was in black. Breathing a sigh of relief, Alya began to look around for Malik, her father and Ardeth… but she could not see him. Her stomach tightened as she looked around, seeing her father, Malik, even Yusef but no Ardeth. Jumping to her feet, she managed to pull Numa up with her as she whispered in her ear. "It's alright, little sister. We are going to be okay. Come with me, we are going to Ummu, little one. We are going to be alright." Slowly she began to pull her sister along with her through the smoke and the fighting.

A shadow came running through the smoke, a scimitar raised. Alya screamed as Numa collapsed whimpering which caused the figure to pause and lower the scimitar.

"Alya? Numa?" Malik's face came into focus. He grabbed Alya by the shoulders, "Is she injured?" Alya couldn't answer; she just shook her head, ears ringing. "I can't carry her! Help us!"

Malik didn't question, nodding once he lifted Numa into his arms and began to run away from her. Alya wanted to follow but it felt as though her feet were stuck in the sand; an unseen force seemed to be controlling her body as she turned back towards the way she and Numa had come. A breeze caressed her face and caused the smoke to billow around one of the last struggles. It almost seemed to frame a path.

One man in black was surrounded by three of the men in red; his back was to the camp, and the smoke was hiding his struggle from everyone else. One of the men punched him, and his head swung around and she saw his face. Her entire body went cold, as she saw Ardeth's face twist and he paused as his eyes met hers. Throwing his entire body into a swing, he swung around to meet the scimitar that would have taken his head. An invisible rope seemed to be pulling her towards the scene, and she broke into a run towards him; not noticing that her hatta had come off and her curly hair had escaped its braid. Fast as lightning Ardeth feinted and when one attacker took advantage of it, bringing his blade under to go through his stomach. As he crumpled to the ground the youngest attacker ran at him with a furious cry, and Ardeth met his swing with such strength that the blades sparked. What he didn't see was the other man who came behind him and raised his scimitar to behead him while he engaged in a furious battle with the young man. Alya heard a scream and wondered who it was, not realizing that it came from her own mouth as she threw herself at the man with the raised scimitar. He was much larger than her and probably normally would not have moved because of her slight weight but thankfully he was caught off guard he fell to the ground. Thankfully he hit his head on a large rock and lay still else she would not have been able to handle him. Ardeth and his attacker were momentarily distracted by the sight of the other man taken down by a girl with soft eyes the color of the Nile.

"Alya!" Ardeth yelled. "Get behind me!" He reached for her but his fingers only brushed the embroidery on her thobe because his opponent, a black youth not much older than he, had already grabbed Alya by the hair, and was using her as a human shield. "You cannot touch me now." His voice was deep, and there was a thread of hysterical laughter there. "This little harlot will save me until I can kill you the way you killed my father!" Lifting his scimitar he held it to her throat so tightly that Alya cried out. Ardeth froze, the blood draining from his face, and his eyes locking on the trickle of blood coming from Alya's throat.

"Leave her alone." Ardeth's voice was steady. "She is not involved in this." The last part almost sounded pleading.

"No." The youth broke into laughter. "And I think that I may keep her. She could be… entertaining." His lips twisted into a smile as he began to smell her hair, eyes on Ardeth the entire time.

A fearsome heat was threatening to overcome Ardeth as he looked on this scene. Red tinged his vision, and a growl escaped his throat as he threw himself at the pair. In less than half a second that thing's hands were off of Alya's throat, she was out of the way, and Ardeth was pinning him to the sand with a scimitar to his throat. He was ready to slit his throat; ready to end this person's life for what he had done to Alya, to the tribe and to himself.

Ardeth!

A melodic voice said his name sternly, bringing back memories of his mother's voice when he had gotten into mischief as a child.

My son, don't!

A figure seemed to form out of the smoke and came to stand in front of him. The first thing he saw was the thobe; embroidered with red as all married women's were, and his eyes traveled up to her face. Serene and lovely just as he remembered, many laugh lines from many years of laughter and delicate lines framing her eyes.

"Ummu!" he found himself crying out.

Holding out her hands to him she smiled shakily. My dear beloved son, do not shed this man's blood!

Ardeth felt that same heat flare in his stomach. "Why? He would have done the same to me, to anyone of us! He tried to kill Alya!"

Her gaze went to the ground as she turned her head away. Do you really wish to be the same as him? Turning back to him, her cool blue gaze pierced his very soul as she faded back into the smoke.

Looking down at the man he still held, it occurred to him that this person was younger than he was, and had just lost a father. Climbing to his feet, Ardeth went to stand in front of Alya and spoke to the youth in front of him.

"Go, before I change my mind."

Nodding, the youth scrambled to his feet, nearly falling as he attempted to run before his feet had made contact with the sand. With one agonized look at the two bodies left there on the ground, he disappeared into the desert.

Ardeth turned and pulled Alya to her feet. Wrapping her in his arms he held her to his chest; he felt her heart beating wildly, and she was quivering.

"Are you alright?" he whispered into her hair. There was no response. "Alya?" He stepped back placing a hand under her chin so he could look into her eyes, which were wide and suddenly went blank as she went limp in his arms. Staggering slightly at the unexpected weight, he lifted her up into his arms, and held her close to him.

There was a beautiful garden surrounded by a marble wall in which two children, a boy and a girl, where chasing each other. The boy chased after the girl as she flitted between the plants like a small fairy but finally as he tripped over a root he managed to grab her ankle and she fell into the dirt leaving a brown stain on her behind. Looking up at her companion her blue eyes widened before she was rolling on the ground laughing. He reached down to pull her to her feet, and she grasped his hand only to pull him down in the dirt with her as the hilarity continued.

"Asenath, Amoun! What in the world are you two doing?!"

Both of them sat up quickly, and wore identical expressions of horror on their faces as they looked at each other, and noticed the amount of dirt on their linen garments. Amoun's side lock was completely unbraided, and plastered to the side of his head with mud which only made Asenath clap her hand over her mouth to stifle a giggle; which in turn made Amoun laugh at the muddy hand prints on her face.

"Children where are you?!" Paniwi cried out again.

"Hide!" they whispered at the same time. Jumping up they both ran to the other end of the garden, and towards the gate which would lead them by the kitchens, and around the far side of the temple to their room.

"Have you two managed to avoid Paniwi again?" A cool voice met their ears and they both skidded to a halt. Groaning in unison they turned around to face their mother, who stood looking at them with an eyebrow raised.

"I thought I told the two of you to stay indoors, and clean?" Their mother looked them up and down before raising her hands heaven ward. "I will never understand why Neith blessed me with the two of you... Now come to the baths quickly, my mischievous little monkeys."

Asenath watched her mother leading the way to the baths and thought that she must be the most beautiful woman in all of Egypt. Her white robe was loose and flowing down to her ankles, and was bound at her slender waist with a scarlet chord. Several golden bracelets each containing a single emerald, ruby, and sapphire adorned her wrist, and her upper arm had a silver bracelet with two arrows crossed over a shield with an ankh engraved on it. Her thick black hair was braided with golden and sliver beads which clinked as she moved and she was giving off the delicate scent of lotus blossoms.

As soon as they entered the baths, she pulled of their soiled garments, and several servants appeared with jugs of water to pour over them. Asenath went to stand over one of the drains which would take the water to irrigate the gardens while Amoun stood above another one. The servant poured the water over her head, and she jumped, sputtering.

"Mother the water is cold!"

Her mother looked up from re braided Amoun's side lock, (who had had a similar reaction to the water) and smiled slightly. "Your first bath today was warm, but there was no time to heat the water a second time." She bound the braid with a golden clasp adorned with turquoise.

Finished with Amoun, she went over to Asenath, and smilingly began to run a bone comb through her hair, making her wince as it went through some tangles. Amoun caught her eye, and gave her a sympathetic look, and a wink before a servant began to rub perfumed oil on his skin. Another servant brought a bowl of perfumed oil, and rubbed it on Asenath. It smelled of a resin and myrrh; not an unpleasant smell but not nearly as pretty as the lotus blossom at least to Asenath.

"When can I use the lotus oil?" she asked eyes wide.

"When you are High Priestess of Neith." She smiled, and kissed her forehead before going over Amoun, and kissing his forehead as well. Asenath's view was temporarily blocked by the linen tunic being pulled over her head."Now, my dear children, it is time for you to go to bed." Taking both their hands (and ignoring their protests) she led them down to their chamber and lovingly placed them on their mats.

"Will you tell us a story, Mother?" Amoun asked, yawning.

"Of course." She thought for a moment. "I will tell you a tale of Apep." She paused before continuing. "Every night Ra must take the Sun Boat through Duat, the Underworld, and every night Apep, the giant serpent who is opposed to light and harmony, attempts to stop him. Set, the brother of Osiris-"

"And husband of Neith!" whispered Asenath.

"Yes, and husband of Neith." Tadinanefer continued. "He rode on the helm of the boat to slay the serpent-demon with his spear which Neith enchanted for him. Every night he did this until darkness found its way into his hear and he began to reject the goodness and light that Ra stands for. Joining with Apep, leaving Neith and their son, Sobek, the crocodile god, he began to fight against Ra, and seeking the throne for himself. Jealousy entered his heart and he began to covet his brother's crown and Isis, his brother's wife and Set's sister. He created a trap for his brother with a sarcophagus and murdered him. Isis grieved for her husband and found his body and buried it but Set tore it to shreds, and scattered the pieces in the Nile. But he was undone by the land itself for the land helped Isis find the pieces and bury her husband, who became Lord of the Underworld, judging the dead as they enter Duat. Isis gave birth to his son, and named him Horus. When Horus was grown he and Set began to battle for the Throne of Egypt. They fought and Horus' eye was injured, which is why the Moon is so much weaker than the Sun. However their battle was hurting the land of Egypt and so Banebdjetet came to Neith, the Mother-of-All, and begged her to intercede which she did. No one knew better than she the corruption that lay in Set's heart, and she saw Osiris' goodness and ability in his son. The Opener of Ways decided that Horus would be the next ruler, and her judgment was accepted which ended the war, and the land flourished. In compensation, she gave Set land and blessed his marriage to Anate and Astarte, two minor goddesses, and she left his side, going to be a protectoress of Osiris, the Pharaoh himself, and the dead." Kneeling down beside them, she placed a hand on each of their foreheads. "Sleep well, and do not fear the darkness. Neith will not allow harm to come to you as long as you are following the right path." Kissing each of them, she swept out of the room, the scent of lotus blossoms lingering behind her.