Chapter Text
Starry night where time seemed to stand still, abbreviating his sufferings but prolonging his distress. Silvery moonlight shining brightly in the infinite desert's blue sky, a cool breeze gently caressing his blonde curls like a soothing balm after the sultry day he had spent under Egypt's gruelling sun.
His head rested against wooden bars, his gaze stubbornly fixed on the nocturnal orb. Feeling tears welling at the corners of his eyes, he raised a tired, dirt-covered hand and angrily wiped them away. In the hope of dispelling the numbness starting to afflict him, he stretched his legs but suddenly bumped into a hard surface, and trying to discern the object with his amethyst pupils despite the night's darkness, he quickly folded them back when he realised it was the head of a sleeping fellow traveller.
Crammed together into a wooden cage barely larger than a dry oasis in a sea of sand, a dozen men and women of all ages faced each other. Shackled and clad in a simple linen item of clothing to shield them from Ra's scorching rays, they advanced without a real choice toward an unknown destination, fear compressing their already famine-stricken stomachs due to the forced fasting that was imposed on them.
Dangerously swaying from right to left with each sand dune crossed, with every unavoided rock, the cart continued relentlessly to run without ever coming to a halt.
A bitter smile twisted his lips, dried by the thirst he couldn't quench. Their journey would indeed end in a place they knew nothing about, but their fate was all too well known. He had bid farewell to innocence long ago, keeping in mind only what truly mattered: survival by any means.
"Heba."
He turned his head, forcing a smile as he placed a comforting hand on the amaranth-coloured hair of the young girl lying against his shoulder, her breath erratic.
"Teana?"
"Heba, aren't you sleeping?"
"You must be joking, with all these jolts..."
The sweat oozing abundantly from her forehead made him frown, and he ventured to put another hand on it, concern now marking the features of his childlike face. She was burning with fever.
Heaving a sigh again, he looked toward the front of the wagon, peering with interest at the two men seated on the cart's ledge and guiding the horses in turn. Then, he turned to his right, raising his elbow halfway to push it between the ribs of his comrade who woke up with a cry of pain which he quickly stifled by covering his mouth, mentally thanking the gods for not being spotted.
"Oi, have yeh lost yer mind!? What's got into yeh?!"
"It's Teana. She's not getting any better. It's even worse than before!" he whispered in his friend's ear, not wanting the young girl to hear.
"Her fever's gettin' worse?"
"Jono, if we don't stop to eat something, I'm afraid she..." He didn't finish his sentence, the words fading in his throat as he narrowly held back a sob.
"Eat? Nah, that ain't happenin' anytime soon..."
Closing his eyes, half in fatigue and half in despair, Heba let himself fall back against the bars of his mobile prison. Perhaps it was better this way... To pass away in illness, surrounded by her two childhood friends, was a better end than the one that would await her upon their arrival. For, if their torturers figured out about her condition, a far more terrible death would be hers. And even if she was to recover, her future would be nothing more than a vivid wave of suffering, where hope had no more its place, entwined by the shadows of the chained life of a slave.
Blazing sun hovering above a deep blue sky, amid the rising temperatures of the season, the palace stood proudly at the other end of the town. A royal residence with golden curves, blending almost perfectly with the endless yellow Sahara landscape as if it had simply emerged from underground.
Various sounds resonated within the walls of the estate—servants bustling around, scribes shuttling between the royal library and the council chamber, the viziers oversaw the nomarchs, and the priests attended to their usual duties, whatever they might be.
Atem let out a moan of pleasure as he immersed himself in the clear liquid filling the pool. Extending his arms along the edge, he closed his eyes, letting his head tilt backwards. Off-white, the donkey milk enveloping his swarthy skin was scented with the fragrance of wildflowers, likely lavender, and essential oils. Breathing in deeply, he absentmindedly swept a hand through the air, relaxing even more when a damp cotton fabric began to gently but vigorously rub his neck.
"Hmm..."
"I believe I'll take that as a compliment, my Pharaoh."
"You can, Nefrina."
Giggling delightfully, the maid slid the fabric from his shoulders to his arms, passing between his fingers, lingering on his knuckles and nails before moving up to his back, causing the young king to straighten with a groan as the young servant entered the tub to scrub his shoulder blades.
Soon, the fleeting pleasure of this bath would come to an end, and he would inevitably have to return to the affairs of state. Everything would be nothing but a continuous succession of listening, writing, and reading of papyrus longer than the Nile itself.
The various commotions of Khemet reached him from the terraces, and lifting his gaze to the open ceiling supported by four marble columns, he suddenly asked:
"Is it enjoyable?"
"What so, Your Majesty?"
"Wandering through the town aimlessly?" Atem replied while leaning back against the edge, the maid now sliding the cotton fabric against his chest.
"Well..." Nefrina hesitated, worried.
"Answer without fear... I'm just a little curious."
"I'm not used to going into town unless it's for the needs of the palace. But it is indeed very enjoyable to visit the market surroundings and listen to the lively conversations of the townspeople."
"I see..."
"If I may... Why this question, O son of Horus?"
Narrowing his eyes, the pharaoh freed himself from the grasp of the young servant, moving a bit more to the centre of the pool and surrounding himself with his arms as the once-lukewarm liquid was beginning to cool.
"For nothing. Nothing at all..."
Nodding as she brought the fabric close to herself, Nefrina emerged from the bath, circling it to join the young king, holding a silk cloth in her hands. Atem stepped out in turn, wrapping himself in the garment before heading towards his apartments, not forgetting to thank the maid for her services.
A cobalt blue shendyt tied over a vanilla-coloured tunic later, the all draped with an indigo cloak, and he was walking towards the throne room, his gaze confident. There was now nothing left in his pupils of the doubt that had temporarily clouded his mind.
Relentlessly, time continued to pass, granting him no respite. If only he could... not escape his duties, as he genuinely loved being a king. But if, if only for a day, he could have the unique chance to experience normal life. To learn how his people lived every day... Then maybe... maybe he would feel less alone...
Exhaling, he vigorously shook his head to dispel these scattered thoughts and entered the room, sitting proudly upright on his throne as various priests presented him with the agenda.
This journey seemed endless, Khepri replacing Thoth in the far forbidden domain of the gods. How many days had he spent in this tiny habitat? Each time skinning himself when his limbs miserably crawled against the wooden barks that tore his flesh, his caramel skin turning darker under the dirt and dust, and his body gradually losing its vitality to hunger and thirst.
His amethyst eyes no longer had any radiance in the deathly silence surrounding them. Teana had suddenly fallen silent, and Jono no longer sought to comfort anyone, as nothing seemed to give him hope of getting out of this cage.
Closing his eyelids, he attempted to find some rest when various sounds reached his ears. Rising as best as he could, he contorted himself to the point of twisting his neck, observing almost with relief the features of the town moving under the sun's heat a few metres in front of them.
Thus, their existence as free men was coming to an end. Khemet's market stalls would soon be covered with new goods, presented to the crowd like mere fruits, nothing less than their lives being offered for a trifle.
Heba squinted while they approached the great alabaster gates of the city-state. The cart passed through slowly, like an impending judgment, abruptly stopping at the edge of the marketplace.
The two torturers descended from the wagon, circling it to aggressively open the door locked with a metal bolt. Tugging at the iron chain connecting them all, one of the men shouted to hurry while each was doing their best to get out, their limp limbs inevitably causing them to fall as they stepped into the sand.
"C'mon! C'mon! You bunch of incompetents!"
Heba barely held back from crying when he collapsed to the ground as well, simply moaning like a wounded animal. Staggering to his feet, he was directed towards a platform serving as a sales stand, lining up obediently with his fellow captives.
Daring to lean his head forward in hopes of catching a glimpse of his childhood friends, he mentally sighed with relief upon noticing that Teana was standing pretty much upright at the other end of the line, her gaze, however, was completely blank for she seemed not to be even aware of what was happening around her.
As for Jono, he looked to have regained his motivation, struggling forcefully against his tormentors, trying in vain to escape their clutches.
By Osiris, how can he still move like that? thought the boy, feeling himself on the verge of fainting, his vision half-blurred.
A woman brusquely collapsed to his left, taking a part of the flock with her and forcing him to step back. One of the traders yelled even louder at this scene, releasing the arm of the troublemaker with ashy blond hair to deliver a kick to the woman's stomach, as if to check if she was still breathing.
Heba averted his gaze, unable to bear more, hiding behind his black and fuchsia-tinged blonde curls. Nonetheless, he raised his head back when a cry rang out, the second trader awkwardly holding his hand, his eyes darkening with pure hatred as Jono's bite mark was engraving itself onto the flesh of his palm.
"You! Damn leech, I swear to give you to the first comer withou' negotiation! "
"Alright then! Won't 'ave to endure your mug much longer!"
The slap cut through the air with astonishing speed, the hazel-eyed young man falling to the ground in a cloud of grains of sand.
"Jono!"
Seeking to rejoin his friend, Heba saw his path blocked by the most imposing of the torturers. Attempting to force his way through despite his small stature, he could only bend his knees in pain when the trader grabbed him by the hair, pushing him backwards and violently slamming him against the platform.
"Don't budge, Heba! Especially, don't do anythin' they might make you regret!" Jono exclaimed upon seeing the altercation, wanting to protect his longtime friend.
"Right, you'll keep quiet now!? Or I swear by all the Gods, it's the kid who's gonna receive instead of you!" vociferated the less sturdy of the two men, astutely noting the weak point of the two friends: each other.
"Fine... Fine..."
Joining the ranks, the tall blond sighed with a bored expression, his pupils drifting helplessly towards the royal palace looming in the distance. Following his gaze, the amethyst-eyed boy also inspected the building, a wave of injustice coursing through his body in spasms.
"Some truly got nothin' to worry 'bout."
Yes... some are luckier than others...