Shaking her head, the woman sighed. “It’s a shame things turned out the way they did, “ she mourned. “Had her parents lived, she would have been favoured as a candidate. She truly would have been a wonderful queen…”
Nkosi gazed at the form of his guard as she carefully applied Kohl to her eyes, before glancing to the elder woman. “I think so too, but...he keeps sending her on these missions...dangerous ones, and she’s gone longer and longer…” He bit his lip, not wanting to think poorly of his brother, but… “Does he...not care…? For her?”
“He cares,” Mama assured. “Oh, does he care. But, right now, our land is in the midst of change. What he cannot accomplish himself, he is forced to send her to do. Every time, he worries constantly. He eagerly awaits notice from her, to know she is well, knowing each time he reluctantly sends her out that this mission could be her last, that he could be sending her to her death. It frightens him, more than you could ever know. But he cannot trust the task to anyone else. And so, he is cursed by his own power to make the orders and wait for her signal of success.”
Mama tilted her head, thoughtfully. “Considering how much things have changed for the better, with Our Pharaoh the change in the light, while Nubia his hand in the dark...they make quite the team, do they not?”
--------------
Many leagues away from where the young prince continued his mission, the Living God and Sovereign of Egypt, Pharaoh Amen, paced. While it was next to impossible for him to leave the city, especially with construction and organization needing to be overseen, Amen had eyes and ears throughout the land, keeping watch for signs of descent or pockets of uprisings among the populous. In the grand scheme of things, Amen was a young Pharaoh, one of the youngest to sit upon the throne, and after the disastrous fate of his own honoured parents. Amen was a big change for the people. This didn’t always mean he was a welcome change.
Since he ascended from prince to mortal god, Amen had seen the reactions. There had been those who hoped to gain greater status by attempting to gain his favour. There had been those who hoped to gain his ear and, through him, become shadow rulers, not quite realising that, though young, Amen was more crafty than he first appeared. There were those who disliked the changes Amen tried to implement in order to better spread prosperity to his people, since there would always be those who stood to lose from the past regime. Some were easy to calm, to talk around or to be reminded who was their king, but others needed a more subtle hand, and others...well…
Amen clenched a hand into a fist, taking a shuddering breath as his stomach churned.
It wasn’t as though Amen enjoyed the more darker aspects of politics. However, sometimes it was needed to maintain a greater peace from those who selfishly endangered the populous by inciting useless uprisings over selfish matters. Even then, he did his best to try all other methods before resorting to that.
Even if he couldn’t leave, there were those in his employ that could. Upon his order, they spoke as his mouth, or listened as his ear. And, if all else failed, insighted justice as his hand.
While the most obvious of those antagonists had either gone to ground or already been dealt with in his early reign, Amen was not naive enough to think that was the end of it. Indeed, only recently had it come to his attention that some advisers who had been left over from his father’s court had been dabbling in some matters unbefitting of their status for their personal gain. Dabblings that, if left unattended, could cause an uprising and everything he had done so far would be all for naught. Left unattended, once again, the people would be the ones to suffer for it.
Considering that, he couldn’t risk word getting back through the court and, thus, to them. If they had the time to cover up after themselves, his hands would be tied. He could not fall into the same patterns of mistakes his father had done. Not if he wanted to save his people.
There was, however, one of his Medjai in the area that intelligence had informed him they would be in. It was just which Medjai was in the area that was cause for concern.
“Nubia…”
Running a hand over his face, Amen stilled his pacing, glancing over to his bed where, laying across it, was a commissioned dress of high quality linen, adorned with jewels and gold. The most well known reason for this, at least what he informed those who were to create the dress, was that this was for an ambassadorial meeting. Which, truely, was what Amen hoped would be all this would come to. However, even in an ambassadorial capacity, Medjai were able to pick up any hints of any continued plots. If Nubia was able to pick up anything like that, she wouldn’t be an ambassador of a different kind.
An ambassador of Anubis.
He wished he didn’t have to put such a burden on her. Nubia was his childhood friend, one of the few people who had stood with him unwaveringly when he had discovered the bodies of his slain parents and even upon his coronation. She was the only person he could trust with something like this unconditionally. Even beyond his own brother.
It didn’t mean he liked the idea that, even as she watched for Nkosi, she was staining her hands crimson on his order. But what choice did he have.
Fingers training over the smooth material, he closed his eyes, guilt heavy on his heart. “Forgive me for this, Nubia…”
Taking a shaky breath, he straightened, pushing his remorse aside. He was Pharaoh. His word was law. He cannot waver.
Striding to his desk, he sat, pulling a sheet of papyrus toward him and dipped his reed brush in the ink, considering how to compose his orders. Because they shouldn’t be simply orders, not to Nubia, anyway. She meant a bit more to him than a pawn on a Senet board.
Nibbling the end of the reed for a moment, frowning, he considered a little longer before slowly, finally, touched inked brush to page.
Nubia,
I have been listening for word and eagerly reading the updates on my brother’s quest. It gladdens my heart to hear news, whether or not the quest has yet proven fruitful. I understand that even a hawk needs time to travel distance and locate the recipient, thus I know patience is required while I wait for further updates. Even so, I hope when you receive it you, my brother and the convoy are in good health. I also hope that this does not change with the subject of this letter, as much as I wish it was merely for the purpose of inquiring about your wellbeing.
The rumours that I informed you of during my last correspondence appears to be rooted in truth. Should this matter be left unattended, it could become as a plague throughout our lands. Thus, the matter must be settled quickly before it can become a poisonous asp to bite us in our sleep. It is my sincere hope that the matter can be settled diplomatically, but if it comes to it, then you know what must be done.
I hope that you can forgive me for, once again, laying such a burden upon your shoulders. If there was any other way, I would take it. However, in cases of such importance, I trust you, both that you will not only negotiate as an Ambassador for a peaceful end, but also be strong enough to do what must be done if such a peaceful end is an impossibility.
For the sake of the betterment of our people, both now and in the future, it seems that we must both do what it takes, no matter how stained our hands become. However, I ask you to once again, remember that your heart and soul should be free of guilt, as the deaths are mine to bare. Let your heart remain unburdened.
Once again, please forgive me.
While I do hope for a peaceful outcome, I also wish you and my brother the best of luck on the rest of his quest. Please wish Nkosi well and please inform me if anything is needed. While the quest is Nkosi’s, he is still my brother and you, my dearest friend. Allow me to provide if either of you have a anything you require. Most of all, please stay safe.
Looking towards your return fondly,
Amen
-----
“What...is that it?”
Sitting up on the bed in the Pandora safehouse, Yin Huxian blinked at the communicator where Rodessa finished the story she gleaned from the Egyptian texts with a bemused frown. Rodessa herself, who had been continuing to get ready for the day, almost rolled her eyes as she tied back her hair.
“I did say I hadn’t finished translating, dumbass,” she scoffed, leaning a little closer to the mirror to check there wasn’t anything out of place. “In case one forgets, it takes time to translate and the Pharaoh wrote a lot. What do you think I am, Goggle Translate?”
“Witty as always, Rose bud,” Huxian’s tone as dry as the Egyptian deserts. “I just thought it was a little abrupt a place to stop.” He leaned his head on his palm, a smirk crossing his lips. “You’re usually a sucker for juicy details and, I don’t know about you, but I’m seeing lots of little tidbits in that letter alone.”
Rodessa huffed, tossing her hair playfully. “I’m quite certain I don’t know what you’re referring to, Mr Yin.”
However, the playfulness didn’t land long, a vague hint of unease brushing her features. She lowered her eyes a moment, as if debating with herself what to do, before finally reaching for the brush, running it over the length of her ponytail.
“While we’re at it I’ve been...distracted,” she admitted slowly, her lips kicking up slightly for a moment, “A handsome stranger in my dreams,” the smile faded back into concern. “...and this...mess...over on my side.”
While the dreams weren’t anything new to him (no matter how complicated that was - why was nothing simple when she was involved) even if it was amusing to realise that she thought he was handsome - the urge to interject there had been almost impossible to ignore! - the rest of it was a little more pressing to him. She didn’t need flirty Huxian, right now. She needed her partner.
“Mess?” he encouraged.
It took a long moment before she spoke again, her fingers tightening on her brush, her eyes refusing to meet his through the communicator screen.
“Do…” she licked her lip a moment, before trying again. “Do you believe in the supernatural?”
...What?
Huxian straightened now, any hint of exhaustion from his own job fading as realisation came over him. Ever since had had met her back when they had been training as assassins, Rodessa had been a firm believer in what she referred to as ‘realism’ - the only ‘monsters’ in the world were the human kind and she was a self proclaimed Atheist. The supernatural were just stories and fairytales, nothing more. For her to bring this up now…
I guess Pandora must be moving on to phase two. I thought that might be the case when Ro told me about the transfer under Madam Pouvell, but...I hope they know what they’re doing, throwing her into the deep end like this….
“I don’t,” Rodessa insisted, as if thinking Huxian would accuse her of needing a break for saying something so uncharacteristic, before biting her lip. “But...things are getting….weird...on my end. Like...there’s got to be a logical explanation! But...I don’t know...all this ‘supernatural’ crap? It’s...disconcerting.”
Oh, hell, they really had just thrown her in, or at least had just thrown texts in her direction to translate and hoped she got a clue from that. Ugh….he wanted to snap his fangs at Violet, he really did! However, he fought back the urge, forcing his tone to stay even. Ro didn’t need to think he was angry at her.
“Does it frighten you?” he asked gently.
“I don’t believe in Monsters,” Rodessa retorted, though not perhaps as strongly as Huxian was expecting, her tone wavering. “At least...that’s what I thought…”
It was almost as if she felt ashamed to admit it, unable to speak much louder than a whisper, as if expecting him to laugh in her face at any moment. She toyed with the hairbrush in her fingers, forcing herself to continue, ashamed or not, as if it would hurt more not to speak of it to someone she could trust with it. “I mean,” she rationalised, “men are the real monsters that ‘go bump in the night’. If - and let’s just say if - ‘the boogie man’ does exist...well, it’s easier to kill a man than a monster.”
“Strange...I always thought the same,” Huxian admitted, though probably not in the same context she might think. Huxian had lived in both worlds. A fox from birth, lived as a supernatural being and a human for decades...Out of all the creatures in the world, Humans were, ironically, the most dangerous kind of creature in existence. It wasn’t because they were stronger, or faster. Hell, they weren’t necessarily even smarter. What they were, however, were creative. They were harbingers of change. Some good, most bad. And yet, ironically, they were resistant to anything that didn’t fit into their world view, or their own ideas of progression.
There was a reason, so long ago, that Huxian despised humanity.
But Rodessa...it was different for her. And….his view on true monsters...well, he couldn’t inflict that on her. Not when she was looking for some kind of reassurance, or perhaps validation.
(And….a selfish part of him just hoped that she wouldn’t come to despise him in turn)
“You may not believe in things that go bump in the night,” he continued instead. “But others do.”
Rodessa scoffed. “Fairy Tales!”
A chuckle bubbled in his throat, mirthless. “You, more than anyone, know that people believe what they wish to. Yet in the shadows, what everyone thinks only happens in movies takes place right under their noses. The more your eyes become accustomed to the shadows, the more one starts to notice.” His lips quirked up, humourlessly. “Honestly, I’m surprised it’s taken you this long to question reality.”
After all, she’s dealt with him for all this time. He would be more shocked if he hadn’t slipped up or hinted something to her even if he had been hiding his own nature, even if she never questioned about the mystic in any other capacity.
Rodessa twisted in her seat, eyes narrowing almost dangerously.
“And what, Pray tell, are you getting at?”
Humming, Huxian fell silent
“I mean,” she continued, tone almost biting, “you say that as if all this is more than just putting useless superstitions to rest with the rest of the ghost tales.”
He wanted to bark a laugh. He wanted to tell her. He really did. He wanted to tell her just how ironically funny this was to him, how much it tugged at the part of him that missed how things once were. He wished he could simply shake her with ears back and fangs bared and drag out those memories but...he couldn’t. He couldn’t. It...it wasn’t time...if it ever could be again. But if there was no hope, would there have been divine intervention?
Digging his claws into the bed sheets, he forced himself into patience. He had existed for centuries. A few months….even a few decades...it should be nothing to him.
But it meant something to Rodessa and if he didn’t say anything she would be at his throat any second, distance between them notwithstanding.
“I’m not confirming anything or denying anything, Roza,” he said instead. “All I’m saying is that there is, for everyone, more to this world than just what can be seen. I just...” he shook his head before fixing her with a serious stare. “Rodessa, I’m warning you to be prepared. Just like when an innocent civilian gets dragged into the life of the underworld, once the veil of ignorance is removed, nothing will ever be the same. You can’t go back to seeing life the way you once did. With Pandora, you’re going to experience things you never have before, a world both beautiful, yet ugly, alien, yet familiar. You need to keep an open mind. Or at the least have the right ammo.”
Rodessa’s face flushed. Slamming her hands on the dresser, she rounded on the communicator.
“I’m being serious, Hue!” she snapped. “Things are-”
Her voice cut off as she stared at her partner’s face. Not a sign of jovialness, no sign of a joke. The face she knew better from mission briefings than everyday life. Lifting his head, he fixed her stare with his own, amber eyes gleaming.
“As am I.”
[END]
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