The sun burned relentlessly, scorching the remains of Geb's temple. Remnants of its former grandeur lay scattered across the parched ground; all that remained was dust, and ash and memories.
Naima trembled with anticipation as she surveyed the excavation site. Activity bustled around her. Soldiers and servants worked ceaselessly under Atem's stern gaze, frenzied in their search for the Egyptian God Obelisk the Tormentor.
But a shadow hung over the scene - the notable absence of Aknadin. It wasn't just the void of his physical presence but the uneasy silence that seemed to have enveloped the space where he once would have stood.
"Keep going." Atem commanded to the servants.
Time seemed to drag on. With each passing moment, the weight of disappointment grew heavier. Any sacred relics had been pilfered long ago by scavengers. All they unearthed were stones and rubble. Naima's once unshakeable conviction wavered, doubt and questions blooming in her mind like weeds.
"My Pharaoh! Look!" A servant from across the site shouted, gesturing frantically toward a curious opening in the rocks, its geometry too deliberate to be nature's handiwork. It beckoned them – a passageway.
Everyone converged on the entrance. As stones were shifted and cleared, a stairway was revealed.
Atem strode forward, a blazing torch gripped in one hand, and Naima close at his side. Magic swirled through the dark corridors with each step, and the hieroglyphs that lined the walls seemed to whisper of an ancient god of unfathomable power.
Her senses heightened - the drop in temperature, the earthy aroma. The air was thick with tension as the group trekked down the winding hallways. Atem led them steadily forward, flanked by Naima and the court, while soldiers kept their hands near their blades. The only thing that filled the stillness was hushed whispers and the rhythmic thump of footsteps against ancient stone.
The narrow path suddenly gave way to a vast chamber, shrouded in darkness save for a lone object that drew everyone's gaze – a stone tablet. As the group approached, heartbeats echoing their anticipation, a realization dawned. The Tablet of Obelisk the Tormentor stood before them, but what they all saw was what no one wanted to see.
It was empty.
-o0o-
The meeting that followed was a tumultuous storm of emotions, all carefully hidden beneath a veneer of duty and decorum. Naima could feel the collective tension.
"How could it be?" Shada mused at the table.
"Where could it be?"
Everyone sat quietly at the meeting table, sharing a moment of contemplation. Isis, appeared deep in thought, her fingers absent-mindedly tracing the edge of her necklace. Karim looked to Shimon, both seeking and offering reassurance, while Shada's usually stoic demeanor betrayed a hint of frustration.
Naima felt the burden of leadership acutely in that moment, finding herself wrestling with a whirlpool of questions and fragmentary clues. The temple harbored no obvious signs of recent disturbance. Yet, Obelisk the Tormentor was gone, spirited away by someone with knowledge profound and arcane.
As she considered the possibilities, a chilling realization began to creep into her mind. Deep in the library, a person had searched through scrolls and secrets about Obelisk, possibly to find it and to gain control. The thief could very well be among their own. Aknadin? Or someone else altogether...?
Naima wracked her brain. Although Aknadin had betrayed them, there was no concrete proof that linked him to the missing deity. It could very well have been the act of someone else, perhaps many years prior.
She wrestled with her thoughts, trying to weave together the disjointed fragments of information and suspicion that danced at the edges of her mind. The coincidences were stacking too neatly.
A memory resurfaced in Naima's mind -
"There is much treachery afoot," Hassan had said to them in the cave
The conversation now seemed ominously prophetic. The weight of those words bore down on her now with a gravity she hadn't perceived then.
Perhaps... perhaps it was safe to say that betrayal was the first possibility.
"We must not let fear cloud our judgment," Atem stated firmly, his eyes locking onto each person in turn. "We are faced with an adversary who knows our world intimately. We must be equally knowledgeable and united to uncover the truth."
Shimon finally broke the stifling silence.
"Ordinary tomb robbers could not have achieved this, not without seizing the tablet, and certainly not possessing the capability to control the God Obelisk. This act bears the hallmark of someone deeply versed in the ancient arts, someone of significant stature."
Karim interjected, "Then our list of suspects narrows."
Aknadin.
No one wanted to say it aloud, but eyes darted to his empty chair at the meeting table.
He was certainly the most obvious suspect, the one who had a motive to do so.
Seto had remained silent throughout the meeting, a stoic figure amidst the growing unease, his gaze fixed firmly on a map sprawled on the table before them. The weight of the room's scrutiny seemed to settle on him, a silent plea for insight, for guidance.
"Seto, your network is extensive," Shada said. "Could they perhaps shed light on this matter? Find traces of Aknadin, or maybe even hints of other possible culprits?"
Seto's response was a solitary, defiant eyebrow arched upward.
"I'm flattered you think that I hold the answers to every mystery in this city, that I'm so powerful that I can pinpoint the moment a deity vanished, potentially years ago. How foolish. Use your intellect and realize I could never even begin to attempt such a task."
Isis's eyes narrowed at Seto's rudeness.
"Seto," Isis said cooly. "With your vast intelligence network, it would be plausible that you would have possibly obtained information about this."
Their eyes locked, a silent clash of wills.
"If I had any suspicions," Seto said, sarcasm dripping from each syllable. "You would be the first to know."
"We cannot afford to be at odds with each other," Atem said carefully, his eyes narrowing on Seto before sweeping over the others. "Our strength lies in our unity."
He then addressed the group.
"The situation demands our full attention. We will increase our vigilance and leave no stone unturned in our investigation. This is our top priority."
Everyone nodded in agreement.
As the meeting concluded and the words hung in the air, Naima's heart thudded with the weight of newfound revelations. And as the council members departed, a haunting thought lingered in her mind- Within these walls, where trust was the golden thread weaving them together, a serpent had slithered amongst them... and could still be... veiled by the very fabric of their legacy.
-o0o-
After a rushed meal, everyone hastened back to their quarters. Naima lingered next to Atem as he mentioned something about paperwork.
"I would like to visit Thebes this afternoon." she said as they reached their chamber. "To see an old friend."
Atem's face transformed, an unspoken question lurking in his eyes. It was a look she'd grown familiar with—partly protective, partly curious.
She hesitated for a heartbeat.
"I won't be long. Just need to drop something off," she added nonchalantly.
He studied her thoughtfully before nodding.
"The guards will accompany you," he said firmly.
Naima suppressed a sigh. She would certainly not be able to blend in with them trailing her closely.
The stables felt like a solace. There was a simple pleasure in greeting Binra, seeing her horse that she hadn't named yet. She simply hadn't thought of any that seemed right. The mare's gentle nature felt like a balm to her restless heart.
As she entered Thebes, the burst of color and cacophony made Naima's heart race and lifted her spirits. She tugged her hood closer, trying to be just another face in the crowd. Atem wanted five guards around her at all times. She settled on three, and when they were finally alone, she begged them to stay a distance behind her, so as to not draw so much attention. But, despite her best efforts, she felt the familiar sensation of eyes piercing into her back as she meandered through the streets, following Eliyah's instructions after she had sent him on another scouting mission.
The journey through the city was a blur. She eventually came to a nondescript house tucked far away in the residential district.
Naima hesitated on the threshold of the large home, her eyes meeting those of a stout, older woman whose expression was set in stern lines of suspicion.
"And who in Ra's name are you?" The woman barked before Naima could even draw a breath. "Waltzing up to my door like you own the place?"
"Uhh..." Naima stammered. "I am looking for Mona. Does she live in this house?"
The woman's eyebrow shot up, her lips pursing in suspicion.
"And who's asking?"
Naima tried to maintain her composure, reaching for words. "An old friend. She will remember me."
"You come here asking for Mona, and you won't even have the decency to give your name? Out!" The woman waved her hand forcefully at her. "Get out, you snake bitch!"
The directness of the insult made Naima reel. Such rudeness was so foreign to her now, a stark reminder of a world before her title.
"Please... I need to speak with her," Naima's voice held a quiet desperation.
The old woman scoffed loudly, her voice dripping with derision.
"If you were truly someone of importance, you'd give your name. We don't just let any vermin walk through these doors, mind you."
It was clear this was going nowhere.
"You really must know who I am then...?" Naima sighed, dreading what she was about to do.
The old woman's reaction to Naima pulling her hood off her face was immediate — her once fiery eyes, now brimming with pure terror, widened to an extent Naima hadn't thought possible.
"My-my Queen..." The words caught in her throat as she crumpled to the ground, her body wracked with tears. "Please forgive my impertinence...I had no idea... Please.. spare me..."
"No.. it's alright, really. Please get up," Naima said. With gentle hands, she urged the woman upright, hoping to assuage her terror.
Still sniffling and stuttering apologies, the woman hastily led Naima through a dimly lit hallway. Upon reaching the door at the end, the woman, her head bowed low, mumbled, "Mona's quarters, my Queen."
"Thank you." Naima said as she reached into her cloak pocket. "I trust that you will not tell a single soul that I was here."
She pressed ten gold coins into the woman's trembling hands.
"Your secret will go with me to my grave, my Queen. You have my word." the woman said.
"Good."
As the woman hurried away, Naima gave two swift knocks on the door, before she heard a resounding "Come in."
Naima opened the door, her cloak still shielding her face and body, and took a quick look around the room. The modesty of it struck her — a simple bed, a lone window letting in slivers of the afternoon sun.
Mona was as she remembered, perhaps slightly more worn by the sands of time, yet still harboring that knowing smile that seemed permanently etched onto her face.
"Eh? What's this?" Mona said, looking her up and down. "You come to murder me?"
Naima gently pushed back her hood, revealing her face fully. Mona's initial smirk blossomed into a full, knowing smile.
"Ah," Mona grinned. "I knew I would see you again."
She then stood from her seat and bowed.
"My Queen, to what do I owe the pleasure?"
Naima took a step closer and placed her hand on Mona's shoulder.
"No formalities, Mona," she urged softly,
Mona smiled widely at her and gestured to the small table.
"You must forgive these conditions. I have no fitting accommodations for a queen."
"It is alright." Naima said as she took her cloak off. As she draped her cloak on a chair and settled into a seat across Mona, her eyes wandered over the peculiar trinkets scattered around — strange carvings on bones, foreign scripts on papyrus, feathers, and other mystical objects. A large swirling goblet of mysterious, dark multicolored liquid sat on the end of the table.
A tug of unease twisted her gut.
Meanwhile, Mona studied her from across the table.
"I am glad to see that you have found new accommodations. The relief efforts in Naqada are still underway. I can arrange for better accommodations if you desire." Naima said.
Mona shook her head and smiled.
"Only in power for a short time and yet you already have a reputation as a kind and generous Queen. Do not worry for me, this housing is just fine for my liking."
She squinted her eyes as she studied her and suddenly Naima felt bare.
"I see that you have accepted your Ka, the darkness that lives in you."
Naima's eyebrows jerked upward. No one could have possibly known that. But Mona clearly did. This woman clearly knew more than she let on. Much more. There was no use in denying it.
"I have." Naima said.
"Good. It will serve you well, for longer than you know, and in many lifetimes…" Mona trailed off, as she made an attempt to straighten up the table.
"Mona," Naima began slowly. "You said you were a seer…"
Mona eyed her from the table.
"Yes….?"
"Do you still possess the gift?" Naima asked quietly.
A glimmer danced in Mona's dark gaze before her grin widened.
"Ah, my dear." she purred. "Of course. If I may be so bold, I've foreseen your visit for quite some time."
"Can you see the past?"
Mona raised an eyebrow, regarding Naima with newfound interest.
"That.. is quite an unusual and unexpected request." she mused "Usually people seek knowledge of their future."
"I do not know if I want to know that…" Naima confessed. "I have enough to worry about as it is…"
Mona laughed. "If only the others thought the same as you. Knowing the future in advance will ruin lives. I have seen it countless times."
She settled into a chair across from her, looking upon her with something like pride in her eyes.
"From noble healer, to Queen." Mona said. "For you, I am happy to provide answers to the questions that burn within you."
As Mona spoke, Naima couldn't help but notice the goblet on the table. The liquid inside swirled and shifted on its own, as if alive.
Mona pulled it from the edge of the table in front of her.
"Don't you want to know what I want to know?" Naima said.
Mona shook her head.
"That isn't necessary." she murmured as she dipped two fingers in the dark, swirling liquid and pressed them in the space between her eyes.
"Prepare yourself, girl..."
Mona's voice floated like a whisper in the heavy air as she began tracing circles on the goblet's edge with her fingers, staring at her with a mysterious gleam in her eyes. The room seemed to spin with the motion of Mona's hand, of the liquid that now swirled in the goblet as if it had a life of its own. The world began to blur, while Mona's smile and laughter lingered in her mind like an echo.
Naima felt like she had been yanked through several dimensions, reality shifting and blurring. Eventually her surroundings bore a haunting familiarity; the palace once again.
She found herself in a chamber she had never seen before, darkened by night but lit by torches. At opposite ends of the room, Aknadin and her mother stood. Their postures were rigid, each emanating a palpable aura of enmity.
Aknadin's voice sliced through the tense silence.
"The walls talk, Samira. Word has it that there have been some.. interesting things... going on in that chamber of yours. Care to explain?"
Samira's face remained stoic, but her eyes flickered with a dangerous fire.
"Your penchant for poking your nose where it doesn't belong hasn't waned, I see. I'd be more concerned about the skeletons in your own closet, Aknadin."
"Ah, I see." Aknadin said. "So you are taking a walk in the darkness again? You needn't say anything more."
Samira's eyes narrowed, a silent warning.
"Oh, how rich coming from you. One might start to think you've become infatuated with me."
Aknadin's eyes narrowed.
"Watch your step, Samira. This palace has eyes.
"Is that a threat, Aknadin?
"Consider it advice." Aknadin said. "But then again, only the guilty feel the weight of a threat, don't they?"
"Oh, please, spare me your righteous act. I know what you are capable of."
Her words struck a chord, and Aknadin's facade briefly faltered, revealing a glimmer of rage.
"I have only done what was necessary for the prosperity of this kingdom, nothing more," he shot back.
Samira moved closer.
"And what makes you think I am not doing the same?" Her voice dripped with venom. "Perhaps, it's you who should tread carefully."
The scene morphed swiftly, thrusting Naima into another fragment of the past.
She found herself standing within the confines of a sprawling personal chamber, the elegance of the room, the decor, jewelry and the various dresses and cosmetics laid around hinted at it belonging to a woman of status, a woman like her mother.
Aknadin slipped into the chamber, the heavy wooden door barely making a sound as it shut behind him. His footsteps were muted against a thick, intricate rug. Every movement he made was deliberate, every step cautious.
His gaze scoured the room as he prowled around, darting from the bed to a large desk cluttered with papyrus and scrolls. He rummaged through drawers with a quiet, calculated frenzy.
And then, his movements stilled as he laid his eyes upon the contents of the open drawer in front of him.
A trio of hourglasses.
Hourglasses.
Naima's heart clenched so strongly she could feel it pounding in her chest. Could it be? The same hourglasses that have haunted her dreams? That were used to betray Atem and the court?
A sense of awe and fear washed over her.
Each hourglass was unique with its own intricate carvings. The grains within them seemed to gleam with an unnatural light. Aknadin was equally mesmerized by the sight before him. His hands trembled as he gingerly lifted one of the hourglasses, turning it over to inspect it. His eyes darted to the mess of notes scattered across the desk - blueprints and papyrus sheets covered in scribbles and sketches, all covered in notations that hinted at their true purpose.
Naima came closer to look over Akandin's shoulder as he viewed the papers.
"So this is what you've been up to, Samira..." Aknadin muttered under his breath as he rifled through the papers and scrolls.
"…Devices of boundless potential..."
Through the various scribbles and notes, Naima was able to discern through bits and pieces the function of the hourglasses, and her skin crawled in realization - they could do anything their user wished.
A shiver ran down Naima's spine. It can't be a coincidence. These same hourglasses must have been used against Atem and the court to unleash an unspeakable evil upon Egypt.
Creations that her mother made.
How had her mother, a pillar of strength and fierce loyalty, birthed objects that harbored the potential for such unspeakable acts?
"Crafting tools to meddle with the very fabrics of reality, intertwining dark magic with the sands of time... I shouldn't be surprised." Aknadin said as he gingerly set the hourglass down, his touch almost reverential with a hint of greed.
Aknadin's voice tore through her spiraling thoughts, and his words stung, carving deep furrows of doubt into her spirit.
So it was true. Her mother truly did dabble in the darkness to create these all-powerful hourglasses.
But how... and why? How could this have happened? How could they have gotten into enemy hands - Aknadin's hands?
And why did her mother create these objects? So many questions unfurled in her mind.
A spark of fiery defiance ignited in her. Her mother, though at times stern and caustic, had been a pillar of dedication and love. Her mother would not have created these items for a nefarious purpose. There had to be another reason, another purpose behind her creation of these dangerous objects.
With one last lingering glance at the hourglasses, Aknadin discreetly closed the drawer and retreated from the chamber, ensuring that no trace of his intrusion remained.
Naima barely had a moment to comprehend the scene she just saw when the everything around her shifted abruptly, transplanting her outside the palace walls.
Aknadin was in the middle of orchestrating a grim departure, flanked by the other high priests and a small army of soldiers whose vacant eyes bore the mark of a dark enchantment, what appeared to be a control spell. From a shadowed doorway, Samira observed, her presence undetected by Aknadin at first. But she had swiftly moved into the light as she confronted him.
"Aknadin!" She called out as she strode toward him.
"What is the meaning of all this?"
A charged pause preceded their exchange of disdainful glances.
"It is none of your concern, Samira," Aknadin dismissed, his voice carrying a grim finality.
"It isn't? Then explain the spells you've cast on these men. I believe I have every right to be concerned."
Aknadin snarled.
"Don't you have work to do?"
Samira said nothing as she walked away, but she made sure to linger close by undetected, and after they left she prepared a horse and went after them, making sure to stay a good distance away.
As her mother stealthily pursued them towards a distant city sketched on the horizon, Naima's perspective violently shifted, plunging her into a scene of unbridled terror.
Everywhere she looked, chaos and violence unfurled relentlessly before her. The palace guards were locked in a trance-like state, slaughtering anyone they saw before dragging the bodies into a nearby cave and tossing them into a massive cauldron. A velvety golden liquid roiled within it, seething with its own power.
Samira soon reentered the frame, dismounting with an expression steeped in horror and disbelief as she beheld the atrocities before her.
"What is he doing?" she hissed to herself, unable to tear her eyes away from the barbaric scene.
With mounting dread, Naima shadowed her mother as she approached the entrance to the cave cautiously, and observed Aknadin pouring the golden liquid into a round tablet with ancient writing.
Samira stood in the entrance of the cave, her presence slicing through the oppressive atmosphere.
"What kind of dark magic is this, Aknadin?" Samira exclaimed as she eyed the stone.
"What have you done?"
Aknadin seemed momentarily rattled by Samira's sudden appearance, but his face morphed into a mask of stubborn defiance.
"I did what was necessary, what was right to save Egypt!" he shouted back, his voice tinged with a deep, piercing anguish.
"What other choice did we have, Samira?"
"You murdered these people!" Samira cried out in horror.
"This is dark magic, Aknadin. Dangerous, dark magic. You have no idea what you have just done."
But Aknadin ignored her as he took a hammer and cracked the stone, shattering it and releasing seven mysterious objects that were hastily seized by the priests.
The air then curdled with a bone-chilling cold, and the ground shook violently. A hidden force flung Samira and two priests against the unforgiving walls of the cavern. Naima's heart clenched in helpless terror as she witnessed the priests' bodies disintegrate, swallowed by a swirling abyss that appeared in the ground, their essence vanishing into nothingness.
It eventually gave way to the emergence of a monstrous entity from the fractured rock, a figure that seemed to eclipse even the most terrifying corners of her imagination.
Zorc.
It must be.
The cave's oppressive air congealed into a figure of profound darkness, a being that transcended her deepest fears. A grotesque laughter filled the space as Zorc seized Aknadin, his malevolent grip squeezing the very life from him.
"Aknadin!" Samira called out.
From her prone position, her mother summoned a surge of magic, hurling it desperately towards the dark entity. It was a futile effort, as her attack rebounded back toward her with vicious force.
As Aknadin struggled in the grip of this dark being, and her mother was struggling to regain her composure after the blow she took, Naima watched in horror as Aknadin looked at what she now knew was the Millennium Eye, and forced it into his eye socket without so much as a single grimace.
A golden beam shot out from the Millennium Eye. The pure energy struck Zorc, causing the monstrous entity to waver, then retract begrudgingly into the stone from whence it came.
Gathering her battered form from the ground, Samira's voice rang out once more, a plea tinged with desperate urgency.
"Aknadin, you must reverse this! You must put the items back. They do not belong to us."
Aknadin had only turned toward her before a golden item, a necklace, the Millennium Necklace, propelled itself upward from the ground and shot towards her mother, attaching itself to her neck, encircling it with a force that sent her reeling backwards. Naima could only watch, her heart hammering in her chest, as her mother grappled with the necklace in a futile struggle for control.
Her mother's once vibrant, golden eyes turned black like a void, her consciousness overtaken by an invisible, malevolent force. Everyone stared up in horror, beholden to her mother's body as she began to float off the ground, the golden Millennium necklace secured tightly to her neck. And in that suspended horror, Naima felt a piece of her soul fracture, the image of her mother's levitating body and blackened eyes seared into her memory.
The Millennium Necklace pulsated ominously against her mother's throat. Her voice, once warm and vibrant and strong, now a chorus of whispers and voices that spoke as one, echoing through the cavern with a foreboding resonance, a haunting proclamation that chilled Naima to her very core -
"In a time where the darkness dances with dawn, the saga unfurls, bound by fate and drenched in the sins of the past. Behold, the reign of Pharaoh Aknamkanon shall crumble, a dynasty shadowed by the very darkness that seeks to engulf the world," her mother's voice echoed.
"From the seeds of his lineage, the lion shall rise, chosen to bear the weight of redemption. In him, the flicker of the eternal battle between darkness and light shall blaze, a testament to the resilience of the human spirit."
"But beware, for the darkness is not easily vanquished. Zorc, the entity born of malice and greed, is not so easily subdued. He lurks within the recesses of time, awaiting the moment to reclaim his throne and engulf the world in a darkness that devours both soul and flesh."
With a motion that seemed to defy the constraints of time, her mother extended her arm, her finger pointing towards the horizon that lay beyond the confines of the cavern.
"In the shadow of three millennia, the cycle shall commence anew. The darkness will surge forth, seeking to reclaim what was once lost, heralding a time of trials and tribulations. Yet, within the darkness, a sliver of light persists, a beacon of hope that challenges the might of the shadows."
"The chosen ones shall stand at the cusp of time, wielding powers ancient and profound. The duels of destiny shall be fought once more, battles that transcend time and space, where the future of the world hangs precariously in the balance."
Her figure, still engulfed in an aura of darkness, began to descend as a final declaration escaped her lips-
"The Pharaoh's legacy, intertwined with the destinies of those chosen to bear the burden of this eternal conflict, will echo through the annals of time. And yet, within the realms of darkness and shadows, he will find solace in a bond unmarred by time, paths marked by fate and guided by the moon and stars. Remember this prophecy, for in the darkest hour, the light of hope shall reveal the path to salvation, a duel that heralds the dawn of a new age."
As the dark hand that seemed to take hold of her mother released its grip on her, her eyes returned to their usual golden hue.
Grimacing, Samira clawed at her neck in a desperate frenzy as she sought to remove the necklace that seemed to have enmeshed with her very flesh. Each labored breath she took was an agonizing scream, reverberating in the shadows of the cavern. The necklace refused to let go, trapping her as it choked the life out of her. Her frantic movements grew more and more erratic, her labored gasping and heaving echoing in the silent chamber. A strangled scream ripped through Naima as she watched from the cave entrance, powerless. Aknadin galloped away with the last of his men, leaving her mother to face death alone, crawling for mercy.
Before Naima could fully grasp the weight of what she just saw, her vision blurred and shifted, bringing another scene into horrifying clarity. Samira, barely recognizable, her spirit flickering like a candle in the wind, limped toward the outskirts of the palace. Against all odds, she had forged a path through the desert, fueled by a determination that defied the cruel hand fate had dealt her.
Naima's heart lodged in her throat as she witnessed her mother's solemn entry into the palace hall, now surrounded by guards whose faces bore expressions of disbelief and pity. Inside, a tense assembly was underway, a grim council that paused at Samira's unexpected return. The Millennium Items lay ominously on a table at the center, their presence evoking an air of foreboding uncertainty, as no one yet understood the extent of their powers or their sinister origin.
The entire hall was silent as everyone looked upon her mother's battered form.
Aknadin's face blanched.
"She's... alive? She has returned?" he said, his voice betraying a blend of surprise and an undercurrent of fear.
"Samira?" the Pharaoh Aknamkanon breathed. "You are alive. Are you alright?"
Her mother was handed water by quick-moving servants.
"My children... my girls -?" she croaked, the words hardly more than a ragged whisper.
"They are safe and cared for." the Pharaoh reassured.
Samira tore the necklace from her neck, hurling it onto the ground with a clatter. It slid across the granite floor.
"This…" she panted. "These…" She pointed at the Millennium Items now sitting atop the table.
"They are items of evil." she cried out as she laid eyes on the necklace that was now on the floor.
"I want nothing to do with that... thing."
"Samira...? What do you speak of?" Aknamkanon said.
She turned her piercing gaze towards Aknadin, her eyes burning with a fierce fire. "Are you going to tell him, or will I?"
Aknadin's face remained still as a stone.
"Certainly. As you asked, Samira, I will show everyone here exactly what occurred."
With a look of calculated calm, he brought his hand to the golden eye embedded in his eye socket. The artifact glinted ominously, before a blinding light radiated from the Millennium Eye, forcing everyone in the hall, including Naima, to shield their eyes. When they dared to look again, they were met with a horrifying vision, projected for all to see - Samira, her body suspended mid-air, eyes swallowed in darkness, voice foretelling the prophecy in an otherworldly tone. Her face was twisted in a grotesque mask of malevolence, the Millennium Necklace glowing ominously around her neck as if marking her with the seal of the darkness itself.
The assembly erupted in fearful gasps and whispers, the grim reality portrayed before them fueling a wildfire of panic and distrust. The terrifying vision, combined with their unfamiliarity with the Millennium Items' powers, created a potent mix of fear and uncertainty, sowing seeds of doubt in the minds of even the staunchest supporters of Samira.
Naima wanted to scream, to declare the illusion for what it was, but her voice was lost amidst the mounting horror.
Aknadin capitalized on the mounting fear.
"You all see the truth!" he proclaimed.
"These all-powerful items are harbingers of truth, and now you see the truth before you. She speaks of the of the items' malevolence, yet they have brought out the true darkness in her for all to see."
"Her prophecy speaks of the downfall of your reign, my Pharaoh! This could very well be considered treason!" another priest exclaimed, pointing a trembling finger towards Samira. The hall erupted in whispers and murmurs.
The courtiers and priests in the hall, overwhelmed by the vision and Aknadin's calculated words, recoiled from Samira, and in that moment, Shimon's words from long ago had resurfaced in Naima's mind -
"She was someone that people feared for many different reasons."
"Her strange behavior raised the eyebrows of many."
"She would spend many hours locked in her chamber. Doing what? The Gods only know. There were many strange noises outside of her door."
The pieces began to click into place like a puzzle, forming an image Naima was not sure she wanted to see. Her mother had been working on the hourglasses in secret, their purpose remaining shrouded in mystery. And people, not knowing what she was up to, became suspicious.
And these same individuals who had harbored suspicions for years, who had seen her mother engrossed in forbidden realms of knowledge, continuously dancing on the delicate line between the sacred and the profane - Aknadin's fallacious vision now confirmed everything they were afraid of.
The undercurrents of fear that had gathered over the years now broke the surface, fed by uneasy memories and speculative fears.
Naima's heart bled, watching her mother being framed so cruelly in real time, the blatant manipulation of reality designed to tarnish her mother's reputation.
Pharaoh Aknamkanon, though visibly disturbed by the vision, interjected, attempting to seek clarity.
"Aknadin! Explain yourself! We must not jump to conclusions —"
But the murmurs grew louder, drowning out the Pharaoh's pleas for reason, a rising tide of fear and anger. Voices clamored for justice, for protection and safety against the perceived evil that now stood amongst them, the officials and dignitaries seeming to forget decorum in the face of such a shocking revelation.
Aknadin seized the moment, stepping forward with calculated grace.
"I did not wish for you to witness such evil, especially when they have walked amongst us in these palace walls." he declared solemnly. "But now you see the truth, what has lived inside one of our own for all this time. It is our duty to protect Egypt, to shield it from the encroaching shadows, even when it disguises itself in the form of someone we once held dear. I fear we have harbored darkness within our very walls. For the safety of our kingdom, we cannot ignore what we have seen here today."
"Brother," Aknamkanon began, his eyes flickering between Aknadin and the aghast figure of Samira. "This is a grave accusation."
Aknadin's eyes were cold, unyielding.
"Yet the evidence is before us. Can we risk the safety of our kingdom, of our children, by ignoring what has been unveiled today?"
"It's clear!" shouted a prominent courtier. "She is tainted by the same dark magic that these items harbor. We cannot risk the safety of our kingdom!"
The Pharaoh seemed to age decades in moments, his shoulders slumping as he met Samira's pleading gaze, a myriad of emotions dancing within his eyes – doubt, sorrow, and a fearful uncertainty that gnawed at the edges of his resolve.
"This council seems to have forgotten itself," Aknamkanon declared, his gaze sweeping across the gathered assembly. "Samira has been a loyal and invaluable member of this court, a trusted voice of wisdom and clarity."
Naima felt as if a vise was tightening around her heart as she saw her mother's form slump, vulnerable and alone amidst a sea of accusatory faces.
"..Aknamkanon..." Samira pleaded. "I have served this kingdom with all my heart. Do not let a vision cloud years of trust. You know me... Please... "
But her voice drowned in a tide of rising fear, a torrent that threatened to engulf all reason, all loyalty. The courtiers, advisors, all seemed to shrink back, their faces masks of dread, their faith crumbling under the grotesque vision and the whispers of treachery still lingering in their minds.
The Pharaoh Aknamkanon sat silent in the midst of chaos. Naima could almost feel the strain on his shoulders as he rubbed his temples with his fingers.
"I am left with no choice," he eventually muttered under his breath.
With a deep, soul-shaking breath, Aknamkanon raised his hand, demanding silence. The noise died down, replaced by an oppressive quiet, the collective breath of the court held in anticipation.
"I cannot ignore the voices of my court, the fear and concern that grips them."
He paused, his gaze lingering on Samira, a deep sorrow mirrored in her eyes, a silent conversation passing between them that transcended words.
"In this kingdom, we stand by the tenets of mercy and justice. Even in the face of the unknown, of fear and doubt, we must not waver from our path."
"But in the face of these revelations, brought forth by the powers of the Millennium Items…" he paused. "I find no choice but to act in the best interest of our people, of our kingdom."
He looked at Samira, his gaze holding an ocean of sorrow and apology.
"Samira," he declared. "I decree that you be stripped of your position, and exiled from this palace and the surrounding city. Trust that this decision is not based on vengeance, but to allow time to reveal the truth."
As the word 'exile' reverberated through the hall, a wave of shock seemed to emanate from every corner. Samira, her face pale, seemed to collapse inwards.
"Let it be known," Aknamkanon continued. "That this decision does not come lightly, nor without a heavy heart."
He locked eyes with Aknadin, a silent promise that this matter was far from settled.
"Exile? Exile, my brother?" Aknadin exclaimed. "You think exile will stop what you just saw?"
Fury ignited in Aknamkanon's eyes as he glared at Aknadin. Naima had never seen such anger on his face.
"You dare to question me?" Aknamkanon growled. The entire hall silenced.
"My word is my decree, Aknadin. It will be done as I have said."
Samira stood tall in dignified silence, her face stained with tears as she glared at Aknadin. Naima could sense the depth of her mother's pain as it echoed in her own soul, as the guards moved in to seize her.
"I have faith that the truth will be unveiled according to the will of the Gods." she spoke without taking her eyes off Aknadin for even a moment.
"And I'll be there to witness it. I will be waiting."
"Pack her things." Aknadin called out.
"My daughters…." Samira shouted as she fought against the guards' grip, her desperate eyes searching the room.
"Where are they?"
"Your daughters will be returned to you."
The guards began to usher Samira out, but not before she cast a defiant glare at the court, a blazing fire still alive in her eyes.
"Will you at least give me the decency to pack my own things?"
Before Naima could process the scene further, her vision transitioned sharply, depositing her back in her mother's chamber. There, she watched Samira move with frantic haste, stuffing essentials into a sack. Stopping by her desk, Samira carefully opened a drawer, retrieving the hourglasses gingerly and nestling them safely within her clothing, before selecting several scrolls and books from her desk and adding them to her sack.
The quiet intensity of the moment was shattered by two firm knocks. Guards, Naima knew, even before the chamber door swung open.
There was another jarring shift in time and Naima now found herself surrounded in the vast expanse of the desert. The blazing sun cast long shadows, painting a stark silhouette of the distant city of Thebes on the horizon. Sand danced around in the wind, and the heat was unforgiving.
Samira, clad in a flowing red cloak that billowed in the wind, trudged away from the fading city with a hefty sack over her back. But it wasn't just the sack that weighed her down. Two children were with her. A baby - Zahra - snuggled peacefully on her back, blissfully ignorant of the turmoil.
And then... Naima gasped as she saw her child self — a younger version of her adorned in fine linen and jewelry. This young Naima looked over her shoulder as she walked next to her mother, eyes glistening with tears as the only home she knew disappeared in the distance.
"Mama, I want to go back home…" her younger self cried.
With an aching tenderness, Samira stopped and knelt before her young daughter. She allowed the tears to fall for a moment before reaching out, catching them with her thumb. She gently removed the necklace and earrings from Naima's small body.
"I am sorry, my little one..."
And then, with a sorrowful grace, she pressed two fingers against young Naima's forehead. A golden light emanated from the contact, bathing the child's face in a glow that seemed almost ethereal amidst the desolation. Young Naima's eyes flickered gold before the light retreated, leaving a vacant expression in its wake.
A memory spell, Naima realized. Her mother had erased her memory. An act of protection woven from love and desperation, her mother had erased all memories of the palace from her young mind so they could start life anew, shielding her from the trauma of exile, loss and betrayal, and perhaps any future consequences should anyone find out who she was.
A sudden clarity descended upon her like a clearing of a fog, and it was at this moment that she had felt whole for the first time in her life. That she felt like she understood the person who she was, and who she was meant to be.
But before she could grasp any more, Naima felt a jarring pull, catapulting her through a tunnel of swirling vortex, a chaotic dance of colors enveloping her sight. And then once again she felt solid ground beneath her and the familiar sensation of air filling her lungs.
With a groan, Naima tried to shake off the heaviness in her head, akin to the aftermath of indulging in too much wine. She realized she was gripping the goblet and managed to crack an eye open, finding Mona observing her with a thoughtful expression.
"Why did it stop? I wanted to see more... There has to be more..." she murmured, her hands cradling her spinning head.
"Girl, one must not spend too long in the world of time and memories, lest they lose themselves in the process." Mona said.
Battling the disappointment bubbling within her, Naima replayed the vivid images in her mind, trying to anchor herself to the present. She took a deep breath, steadying herself before looking up at Mona.
"Being a seer," Mona began. "I am privvy to the personal matters of others. It is the nature of my work. I knew there was much that you sought, and much you still seek. I hope the visions I showed you brought some clarity and peace to your troubled mind."
But it only sprouted more questions, a garden of enigmas blooming within her. Naima remained silent, gathering her scattered senses.
"There is no way you can bring me back?" she said.
Mona shook her head.
"If I allowed you to do so," she said. "There is a chance you would become trapped in that world, your real self becoming a shell of what you once were as your soul continues to wander the realms of the past, forgetting who you are in the present."
Mona's smile returned to her face.
"Your husband would take my head clean off my shoulders for turning his beloved Queen into a drooling lunatic."
Despite the gravity of the situation, Naima couldn't help but return the smile.
"You seem to hold a deeper understanding of me than I do myself," she noted.
Mona winked, her grin widening. "Eh.. Perks of the job, like I said."
"You seem to know about my Ka?" Naima ventured.
"Somewhat."
"Tell me what you know." Naima said.
Mona raised an eyebrow. "Well, what would you like to know, my Queen? I know many things."
She stood up from the table and began to prepare some water over a fire.
"Your Ka sings an ancient song. It is a dark creature from the underworld, a fiend, as you will. Not created with you at birth, but partnered with you, your soul. It has chosen you as a worthy host, and the two of your energies have become one."
"But... why? Why does it exist? What does it want with me? How and why was it created and by whom?"
Mona raised her eyebrows, giving her a wary look.
"I know many things girl, but the intricate details and dealings of the Gods and the underworld and all of the creatures that inhabit those forbidden lands are something I do not have extensive firsthand knowledge of."
"I don't understand." Naima said, frustrated.
"What is not to understand?"
"Why is it with me?" Naima asked.
Mona was quiet as the water began to boil. She silently prepared two cups of tea and sat back down across from the table, passing a cup to Naima.
"I can tell you what I do know." Mona began as she held her tea cup with both hands.
"Many eons ago, before the sands of time shaped the realms as we know them, a pact was sealed between the Gods and the beings of the underworld. This pact stated that when the world was at the brink of a cataclysmic event, chosen guardians from the underworld would rise, to guide and protect the beings of the earth realm."
Mona took a sip of her tea gingerly.
"Your Skull Ka, a guardian, a warrior, was chosen from the underworld. When the time was right, it sought out a host capable of wielding its potent energies responsibly. Its search led to you, Naima."
"A Ka cannot dwell inside of a human that is not worthy of it. Your Ka was very fortunate to have found you, a powerful soul who could both complement and balance its energy as well as accept it into your own."
Mona put her cup down as she studied her.
"Your spirit resonates purity, bathed in light, filled with a healer's touch, a heart ripe with courage and kindness and care for others. Traits that made you the perfect vessel to carry the enormous responsibility that came with harboring this ancient entity, and your Ka could sense it, that you could stand toe to toe with it if you dared, embrace its dark flames yet not be consumed by it. It's not just anyone who can complement such a creature, But you... you were a perfect match, a marriage of dark and light."
"The prophecy... the prophecy that my mother foretold..."
Mona lowered her head as she looked at her solemnly.
"Your husband, the Pharaoh Atem, is the chosen one."
An icy brick hit Naima's stomach.
"And what does that mean for him... and for me..."
"You both are bound as one, woven together by the threads of fate. It was written in the stars that you would stand beside the Pharaoh, a united front against the darkness that threatens to consume the world."
"To defeat Zorc."
Mona was silent as she dipped her head into her tea.
"You are best to remember that prophecy, girl. The threads of that prophecy cling to you."
"I barely remember it, and I didn't even understand what it meant. Talking about three millennia... into the future? Duels of destiny... battles... something about hope and salvation..."
"Remember it." Mona said firmly. "Write it down, and place it in your records. And when they are found eventually, it will be a warning to all in the future. It cannot be lost to time. It is a miracle that there is a second chance to record it now."
Naima sighed heavily, her shoulders sagging under the weight of the responsibility now bestowed upon her. She cast a glance outside the window where the sun seemed to be sinking lower, painting the sky with hues of impending darkness. A sense of urgency began to pool within her.
"I believe I must go now, Mona." Naima said somberly. "But I thank you. From the bottom of my heart."
Mona bowed her head with a smile.
"It is the least I could do. You have a great burden, young Queen, yet I have faith that you will rise to meet it. I only hope that I could have helped in your cause, no matter how small."
"You did." Naima assured her, her voice thick with the beginning of tears.
As Naima went to leave, she cast one last look at Mona's face.
"As you step into the maw of darkness, girl," Mona said. "Remember that in the face of the shadows that seek to engulf this world, you and the Pharaoh are the torchbearers. Together, united in love and purpose, you harbor the might to reshape destiny itself."
-o0o-
The weight of Mona's words clung to Naima as she left the mysterious woman's dwelling. An urgency burned within her, driving her back towards the sanctuary of the palace where she could contemplate the enigmatic prophecy her mother had uttered so many years ago.
Yet, a lingering obligation pulled her steps astray, towards another destination that lay bathed in the evening light.
Not far from Mona's abode, she arrived at a quaint building, the clatter of looms lingering through the still air. She approached, finding the door slightly ajar. With a gentle push, she stepped inside, finding herself amidst startled faces turned towards her. Yet, it was one face that captured her attention.
Halima sat there behind a loom, garbed in simple linen attire and a surprised yet guarded expression that Naima knew well.
Naima pulled down the cloth that hid her nose and mouth, revealing her face, and recognition flashed in Halima's eyes.
"Forgive my interruption."
A palpable silence filled the space, the room holding its breath as its occupants awaited an explanation.
"Halima..." Naima said. "I have come to see you. May I speak with you privately?"
Seeming slightly startled, Halima nodded, her actions a flurry as she guided Naima to a simple yet secluded room within the home.
The air thrummed with an underlying tension as they seated themselves.
"To what do I owe the pleasure?" Halima said quietly, her voice slightly strained.
"... Have you come to dance on my grave?"
"No, Halima." Naima said. "I came to see how you were doing, and to perhaps mend what was broken. I was informed that you were still in Thebes... I brought you some things you might enjoy."
Surprise crept across Halima's features as Naima pulled the sack off her back, revealing the comfort package she thoughtfully prepared - a jug of fine wine, a delicate silk scarf, a small sackful of ripe figs and dates, and a piece of a delicious sweet and sticky dessert that many people in the palace were fond of.
Halima sat rigidly, clearly struggling to reconcile this with their complicated past.
"I never expected kindness from you," Halima muttered softly. "Not after... everything."
"Everyone deserves a chance at redemption." Naima remarked quietly.
"How has life been treating you?" she probed gently.
Halima shrugged slightly, avoiding Naima's gaze.
"I am better than before."
"Are you content with your work? The weaving?"
"It is enough," Halima replied. "I have come to enjoy working with my hands."
Naima nodded before turning her attention towards the window.
"You have chosen to remain in Thebes, over returning to Memphis."
A sliver of darkness flashed across Halima's eyes. "I have no desire to go back. There is nothing left for me there."
The words hovered between them, and Naima knew without further explanation what she meant.
"I wanted to make sure that you were okay," Naima said softly. "If you needed any help..."
Halima looked taken aback, and eventually shook her head.
"I'm alright for now, thank you. I have a place to live, food and I make a decent wage."
Naima nodded. "If you need anything," She added before turning to pull her cloak back over her body, "Do not hesitate."
As Naima prepared to leave, Halima spoke up.
"Thank you," Her voice was barely above a whisper.
"For giving me the chance to find peace, even when I didn't deserve it."
