-Carter Kane-

I let out a yelp from the hit to my left thigh before backing off from the next swing from another khopesh. Another combat pushes in, but a blast of some force shoves them back. I pause an finally notice an older Roman has decided to stand to my right. It's enough to make the opposing combats question if it's worth it for them to keep trying.

"Are you the young Pharaoh the Egyptian Vizier spoke fondly of?"

It takes a moment for me to realize my new ally asked this. Vizier must be Uncle Amos. "Yes," I answer quickly, allowing myself to lower my guard some now. "Carter Kane, Eye of Horus."

He nods, seeming to strengthen his resolve. "Why are your subjects attacking you? And not being put in their place as the dogs they are?"

I give a nervous sound at that, "It's complicated."

It's not like I had the time or energy in me to explain that my grandfather has been a problem. The opposing magicians had decided they'll take up the challenge, stopping any continuation of this conversation. In the mess of it all, I can barely register how well the Roman is able to fend off four of them at once.

Khopeshs clash further ahead of me. "Marcus Rual," The hairs on my arms stand straight to the obvious disdain in my father's voice. "Still hoping to off a Kane I see. Didn't learn after I put you in your place repeatedly? Or that time you tried to sneak into the Twenty-First and came back to First empty handed?"

The rest of the combats have cleared out, clearly more terrified of the host of Osiris having decided to join the fight. The initial combat magician that started the fight, pushes his khopesh to gain distance from Dad. He seems bothered by him, hardly meeting his gaze. "For an exile, you know about me trying to assassinate your brother?"

"Desjardins thought I'd get a kick out of it," Dad verifies swiftly.

"I am not a joke, Kane!" He yells at him, trying to command respect, and the chuckle from Lord Osiris only fuels his anger more. "I will avenge my father!"

"Then stop doing circles," Dad taunts some. "You want to fight Jabari so bad, he's dead already. So, you should attack those that are just like him. There's only one." There's a stare down for a few seconds. "It's me," he verifies as if the other isn't smart enough to figure it out on his own. "And technically, my brother beat you to that already."

I guess the repeated encounters Marcus had already was enough that he decided to leave. The other combats seeming a bit surprised by his sudden retreat but follow suit. I can't help but laugh at it a bit. They were so full of anger earlier.

"Carter!" Sadie's voice snaps my attention from the right. "Get away from him!"

What? I didn't realize she was here. Why is she so suddenly panicked? And with Vika Menshikov? Actually, they both seem scared.

I freeze as a hand lands firmly on my right shoulder. Then a sharp pain in my back. I scream as whatever it is was ripped out just as fast, making my vision flash white. My legs give out, but an arm from behind me wraps around my chest to prevent me from falling to the ground just yet. I can vaguely see the two rushing towards me before suddenly disappearing.

It's a house, but gloomy and dark. There's nothing to it that scream Roman or Egyptian, just appears like a normal house. The arm loosens, and I'm allowed to finally crumple to the ground. The impact hurt some, but was numbed out fast enough from the pain in my chest still.

Footsteps sound off around me; Alexandrian Greek being spoken to light up the house some. I force myself to look up some and watch a wall seem to react, revealing words I can't figure out in brown paint. More glamor removed to another light turned on, hieroglyphs revealed that I can't help but stare back at.

"I've already been warned that Imperial Gold won't give me the desired effect like it had on your General." The older Roman's voice sounds as he lights one more section of the room. "However, it doesn't mean it's still not painful."

Gold hieroglyphs are spinning around him as he faces me, a grin on his face to noticing he has my attention. "-You?" I can barely get myself to ask, curling in to try and lessen the pain some.

"I." He left prideful saying as much, moving himself to the couch close by. "Your General didn't put up much of a fight. Mentally or physically. If he's the best you can put in that position, I fear the Per Ankh has fallen much farther into ruin than I thought possible." He leans back to study me for a moment before smirking. "Set usually puts up a bigger fight too. Was really just a waste of energy for me to even participate. However, how else does one lure a Pharaoh out of hiding?"

I shiver at that. This wasn't supposed to happen. Warnings from everyone about me making my way out here. Concerns of power shifting around. And I walked right into it.

I glance around the floor to see I had still brought my khopesh with in the shock of it all, making a feeble attempt to grab for it. The Roman clicks his tongue and I watch him use his sandaled foot to scoot it further away from my reach.

"Let's not act stupid here," he taunts. "I do still need information from you. If you cooperate, I can end your pain."

I swallow it all down in misery but don't respond to him. So, I'm not surprised when he asks anyway. "Where is Iskandar's apprentice?"

Killed, apparently. By this guy's hands too… A wave of resentment hits as I lock eyes with the amber eyes on me. As Zia had said, we had technically helped him. And he had been a rock through the bull that had been the end of the world and the Per Ankh. Ripped away by this? Despite the anger stirring in my chest, a tear still lands on the hardwood floor I'm lying on.

He smirks at my silence, sitting up some. "Oh good, I thought I would be bored." He reveals a gold dagger in his right hand, still dripping in blood. "I'll give you an opportunity before I force it out of you. So again, where are they?"

"Why?" My voice cracks some.

He watches me for a moment before shrugging. "They have something of mine. My crown, more specifically." He pauses. "I'm surprised that you as a fraudulent Pharaoh don't wear a crown yourself."

The pain shoots forward some, I wince and clench my right hand to stop myself from making a sound. "Oh, apologies, you don't even know who I am." The Roman clears his throat and places his left hand on his chest. "I am Ptolemy XV Caesar. You might know me by Caesarion, or the King of Kings. My favorite is Iwapanetjer entynehem."

Caesarion is a name that rings several alarms. Dad had briefly explained to me how Egypt had been annexed into Rome. A genuine rerun of a typical Demon Days story. Except I remember very clearly that Caesarion was a teenager at the time that he had supposedly passed. Had been told he would rule Rome and Egypt by those around him to only die at the hands of another Caesar.

I remember telling Dad that his story sounded sad. The conflicted look on his face before nodding in agreement. Perhaps in another life, I would offer him the throne instead and step down out of respect.

Amos didn't mention he had a crown of any kind. Then again, he never mentioned having taken studies from Iskandar himself either. Like he had dismissed my question on who the second strongest magician was behind Desjardins. Clearly believing it wasn't of my concern, probably figured it would only distract from the goal Sadie and I had planned out.

I heave a breath, focusing on the former Egyptian, who just twirled his knife in his hands once as a threat. "I don't know anyone that Iskandar mentored," I say coldly towards him. And he won't know. I promise Amos, he won't.

-Sadie Kane-

I've said it multiple times. I'll say it again. My brother is an idiot. It's starting to make sense why Uncle Amos seemed to keep bringing up that he knew.

I'm filled with panic as Vika and I meet with Dad, Kyra, and Mel after having just watched my brother being taken. "That was him!" I finally say in between breaths. "That's the man that attacked Uncle Amos!"

Kyra quickly gives a worried look in Dad's direction, but he turns to Mel. She noticed immediately, nodding in response. "That's Theo."

"You shouldn't be here," Vika snaps, staff prepped to be thrown. "You've helped feed this disorder. And don't think I haven't noticed your hosting of Anat too!"

"The same can be said of you, Vika," Dad halts her angry string of words.

"She's with me," Kyra speaks up before I can defend Menshikov myself, earning an eyebrow raise from me. I guess she must have seen something that tallied up her as an ally in her mind.

"We need to find Carter," I go to focus our attention quickly, no need to rip each other's heads off, though I have words I want to spit at my uncle's fill-in.

"Sadie is right," Femi speaks up, the three of them having cautiously approached our grouping. "The Per Ankh's Pharoah is in dire need of our assistance. Fighting amongst ourselves over other issues is minor, no?"

Dad lands a steady glare on him instead. Femi takes a nervous step back in response but clears his throat to continue anyway. "I know your distrust of the Per Ankh, Julius, but your son is a vital part of our organization, just like your brother. I'm simply using that to show we need to unite our efforts, not that he isn't more than just our Pharaoh."

"Are you the Advanced Statuary teacher?" Kyra asks.

"He is," Chiyo steps in some, though seeming to know to be cautious by Femi's response on the matter. "We're here in support of Amos Kane."

Dad quickly rolls his eyes at that. "Great, like we need additional idiots pretending to know us."

"Dad," I snap to make sure I have his attention. "We need to figure out where Caesarion would take Carter."

I have an idea, Set speaks up. Ptolemy is a simple royal. Chasing Horus, but with dreams of Ra. He'll be ceremonious like those before him.

Dad's gaze narrows, and I realize quickly that he must be able to hear Set talking and from where. A quick note of the black iron staff in my right hand before connecting with my gaze again. "Where then?" He challenges, though with a clear edge in his tone.

The housing the Romans offered their Egyptian guests, Set answers quickly. Sadie knows, he sacrificed a donkey there and painted threats on the walls with the animal's blood.

Dad clears his throat, a look in his eyes as if that had been news. Yeah, I know Amos wouldn't have told you about it. Set informs him, making it obvious at this point that Dad knows Set is currently hanging out in my head much to Isis' distress. Now, tell them you can lead us all there, Sadie. Julius, ditch the extra four to ensure the Per Ankh retreats from the camp.

"I can lead us to the housing they offered them," I start, looking to cover our bases as Set had pointed out were evidentially not.

"So can I," Mel answers. "But why do you think he would be there?"

Make her stay here and clean up her mess, Julius, Set's tone has an edge now to it. If you care so much about her, you'd be smart to keep distance between me and her, yes? Because otherwise, I won't attest to what happens next.

Okay, something I can get behind. I think Dad registers as much in our eye contact, sighing before speaking. "Mel, make sure what is leftover of your army retreats from Camp Jupiter. You three, make sure it happens too."

"Julius?" Mel questions.

"You want to make things right? This is how you do so. Suck down your pride, Whittaker, take full responsibility for your mistake. Make Amos proud." He lands his eyes on Femi, Chiyo, and Zack now. "Make sure she makes good on it."

Zack is the one to nod his head in understanding their assignment. Mel nods as she processes what is being told to her. "Okay, just make sure you make Theo regret what he's done."

Bossy much? Isis decides to pipe in. What exactly has that woman done to piss you off, Set?

Head towards New Rome, Set ignores his sister's inquiry. We have a Demi-magician to put in his place, no?