The Arrival

Major edits have been made to the first chapter, enabling a more accurate historic sense and much better world-building. This is the first few pages of said rework.

The day the change was set in motion, the city of Thebes was no more or less busy than any other day. Citizens prayed and left offerings at the various shrines and temples, markets bustled and rang with the sounds of impatient purchases and trades, and groups of slaves littered the area as they continued to toil away at the various tasks expected of them.

One such group of slaves, situated atop the Western-most edge of the Luxor Temple, tended to the different plant life alongside the ramparts, moving slowly enough to almost enjoy the simpler task without being caught slacking. 

Panya, a small, easily frightened young girl with bronzed skin and long, dark hair to mirror her dark brown eyes, set her makeshift tools down and wiped at her brow. Her attempt to clear away some of the sweat was in vain; a fact she was painfully aware of, as the stifling warm air drew even more sweat to her brow the moment her hand was gone.

Meeting the gaze of her closest friend, another slave granted the name Masika by their shared master, Nephthys, Panya shook her head miserably. It wasn’t so much her status as a slave that bothered her; she was only recently purchased from a family of poor farmers, and was already used to working hard for extended periods of time. No, the simple fact was, she missed her family; even her once beloved older brother, Baniti.

The last time Panya had seen Baniti, months earlier, he had woken her in the dead of the night and quietly led her away to the Luxor Temple. There he had met with Nephthys, and traded little Panya into a life of servitude in return for a small bag of silver coins. He bargained for a moment, and settled for a few extra pieces of silver after boasting of her seemingly unending stamina when working the fields alongside him.

Crying out and sobbing uncontrollably once she realised what was happening, Panya could barely hear a word of the conversation between her brother and Nephthys. All she could focus on was the utter betrayal she felt, at the hands of the one she trusted the most. Her cries were short-lived, however, as Baniti wasted little time in striking her with the back of his palm and ordering her to be quiet. She would spend the next few months trying to understand, but never could make a lick of sense of what had happened, why her brother had betrayed her so coldly.

When the negotiations ended, and the silver changed hands, Baniti didn’t even look at his younger sister; he just turned the other way and left, disappearing into the darkness.

Then came the news, a secret gift from Nephthys... A few nights prior to the day everything changed, Panya’s family farm had apparently been taken over by rival peasants with nothing to lose, leaving three bodies among the fields; a middle-aged pair of lovers and a young man.

Though Masika saw the death of Baniti as a form of poetic justice, Panya had been a much bigger mess than usual ever since. Nephthys had expected this, and debated the worth of telling the slave in the first place, but her heart still pumped with a warmth that refused to allow her to hide the truth. Still, the workload never lessened, to assert the idea that there would be no real special treatment… Her slaves all worked in groups, anyway, and she ensured that Masika was always among the same group as poor little Panya. 

Masika, for her part, was a headstrong young teen, a few years older than Panya. She shared a similar appearance aside from the size difference and their facial structure, though her hair was lighter and shorter, and her eyes were more golden than brown. Her smaller stature exempted her from being relocated to other, more gruelling slave work… Or, at least, that was the excuse Nephthys gave. The truth, of course, was a little more complicated than that.

For all her assurance that there would be no special treatment, the constant pairing of Masika and Panya, and, of course, of course Masika’s good fortune in never being relocated, were all the result of one thing; their master had always pitied the younger slave, despite such emotion going against every fibre of her very being. It was this action against her very nature that led the woman to insist on keeping the illusion alive, even to those slaves most directly involved. Besides, the other slave owners in the city, particularly those among her own kin, would sooner banish her than ever try to understand her compassion.

Jabbing away at the soil and sprinkling in a mixture of animal droppings and grass seeds, Masika inched closer to her friend and began to comfort her, speaking in hushed tones as she did her best to inspire hope into the young girl.

‘Things will improve, Panya. They must, even if we must make it so.’

Panya sniffled and nodded, now wiping her eyes with her forearm instead of her brow. 

‘You think we can do it?’

Masika almost didn’t answer; her attention was suddenly captured by an unxpected movement in the edge of her vision.

Raising her eyes and turning to the North-West, she focused on the ship limping into view from behind the rocky outcrops that blocked her view of much of the Nile - not just any old ship, either; Masika clearly recognised the majestically adorned trireme dedicated to the Pharaoh himself, as would most any other citizen of Egypt with a home near the water.

More strangely than the unexpected arrival, even more than the ship’s slightly war-torn appearance, was the fact that it was clearly slowing to a stop, only barely in view of the Southern end of Thebes.

A thought began to form in Masika’s mind, and she turned back to answer her friend’s question.

‘I know we can… Come quickly, it seems we may have just been handed the opportunity,’ she murmured, gesturing with her eyes toward the Nile.

Panya turned her head, confused, then looked back at Masika.

‘What do you mean?’

Her confusion was still just as prominent, as indicated by the tone of her voice. Masika frowned for a moment, then shrugged.

‘It seems our Pharaoh may have encountered some problems on his latest journey… If we offer our assistance, perhaps we will be rewarded in some way.’

Panya had her doubts about the plan, and was sure Masika felt just as unconfident in the idea as she herself did, but still… The need to try something, anything, won her over.

Nodding at Masika, Panya looked down and pretending to continue working as her friend quickly thought out their next move.

A few moments passed, then Masika whispered in Panya’s ear. The moment she was finished, Panya glanced around casually and then stood, strolling to the edge of the rampart and looking down. 

The footsteps rushing up behind her frightened her more than a little, but she did her best to keep calm as Masika ran to her friend.

‘Panya, no!’ Masika screamed, whilst simultaneously pushing her friend forward and making a show of trying to catch her by the arm. 

She missed, and Panya began to fall, screaming. Masika pinwheeled for a moment, then toppled over the edge, moments behind her friend.

The pair fell through the outstretched branches of a large tree below with impact after impact, and then crashed through the simple roof of one of the huts below. 

Just as Masika had hoped, the combined collisions with the many branches, and the roof itself, broke their momentum enough to barely do more than wind the girls as they hit the ground, bodies limp with their arms loosely shielding their heads. 

They lay still a moment, listening to the stunned voices from above and around. Masika saw a few heads peering down from the ramparts above, and kept herself as still as possible so as not to draw attention. Just a few more moments…

‘Unless you want to join them, get back to work!’

Nephthys’ taut voice rang loud from above, and Masika watched the heads disappear as her fellow slaves hurried back to their tasks. 

‘Now!’

Panya scrambled to her feet, clutching at her left elbow. It seemed her landing hadn’t been quite as smooth as the pair had hoped, but it was still a damn sight better than it could have been. 

Masika, having begun to move the moment she gave the order, was already peering out through the doorway to the hut. Looking back, she noticed Panya cradling her arm, and raised an eyebrow.

‘It is fine. Just a bit sore,’ Panya stated flatly. ‘Is it clear?’

Despite the amount of time the pair had spent together, Masika couldn’t help but admire how calm Panya was, considering how much younger she was. Nodding, she led her friend out of the hut and through the market area along the base of the rampart, sticking to cover as best she could. 

Soon enough, the view to the West opened back up as the pair reached a small inlet from the Nile. As they moved, sprinting through the shallows, Masika noticed the small sailboat cruising around the far side of the Pharaoh’s trireme, turning toward the waterside entry to the Karnak Temple. 

‘Quickly!’ Masika urged, leading Panya around the square stone waterway and toward the side of the steps that led up to the Temple. Now only a short distance away from the incoming boat, Masika could clearly see the Pharaoh in clear detail, down to the scowl on his face as he turned and docked the small boat he sailed himself in on.

A little confused as to his uncharacteristic decision to sail his own boat, Masika shrugged and nudged Panya as the Pharaoh moored his vessel.

‘Time to move… Stay quiet,’ she instructed, before leading Panya the rest of the way to the stone steps. A little to the right was a much smaller adjacent set of steps, leading to the final flat platform before the larger climb to the Temple entrance. Directly ahead, Masika’s target was the garden by the stone wall that bordered the ascent, and the young palm tree in the garden that would serve as a makeshift cover.

The pair moved well, making almost no sound at all as they sneaked across the open space. Pressing themselves flat against the stone wall beneath the leaves of the palm, they listened intently for any sign they had been noticed. Once assured they were in the clear, Masika climbed halfway up the young palm, then peered over the wall from her new vantage point as the Pharaoh stretched his back and began his slow ascent to the Temple. 

Grabbing a branch and hoisting herself up lightly beneath Masika, Panya uttered a startled half-cry as a masked figure suddenly, silently, fell to the ground behind the Pharaoh from atop the stone pillar on the other side of the base of the steps.

Masika reacted quickly, reaching down to cover Panya’s mouth with her hand and ducking as low in the tree as she could. 

Was he there before?

Masika shook her head, confused. She hadn’t noticed the figure at any point beforehand, so it stood to reason that something, likely the top of the pillar, had obscured their vision of each other.

After a few moments, she allowed herself to look back again, and saw the figure sneaking up behind the Pharaoh, hand outstretched ominously.

Taking a deep breath as she turned and gestured for Panya to stay still, Masika prepared herself to launch over the low end of the wall and tackle the Pharaoh’s attacker; this was exactly the kind of opportunity she had come for, hoping to receive some sort of gratification for assisting the Pharaoh when he was so clearly fresh out of a hard battle.

She planted her palm atop the wall and tensed, ready to move as she once again looked over the wall - just in time to recognise the uncovered portion of the newcomer’s face. Pulling her hand back from the wall as though it had burned her, Masika sat back against the wall and exhaled shakily. She turned to Panya, who hadn’t moved as per Masika’s instruction, but was clearly quite confused.

‘Setesh,’ Masika mouthed at her. 

Panya paled at the name, mirroring the way Masika felt in her core.

Setesh, husband to Nephthys herself, was another of Thebes’ more renowned slave owners, and potentially the cruellest of them all; though he could be calm and rational, he was just as likely to sow chaos with nary a moment’s warning as though jumping from one personality to the next. This unpredictability had gotten the best of many friends of Setesh’s, with only one man able to be considered safe - the Pharaoh he now approached silently from behind.

It happened so quickly. Masika watched on in stunned silence as the Pharaoh stumbled, knocked off balance by a sudden kick behind his left knee. Moving at an almost impossible speed, Setesh drew a short blade in a reverse grip from somewhere in his attire, thrusting it past the Pharaoh and holding it before the man’s throat. Just as quickly, he used the same hand to pull back on the Pharaoh’s shoulder, bending him backwards in a half-crouch until he could look into his victim’s eyes. 

Moving quickly, though still unsure as to the purpose, Masika turned and crouch-walked to the small set of stone steps to her right, and darted up them to behind the nearest Nile-facing sphinx statue, hiding behind it as Panya followed carefully.

Slowing now, Setesh strolled casually around the Pharaoh, stopping in front of him as he rotated his blade. Standing in place with the tip of his blade pressed into the skin of the Pharaoh’s throat, Setesh paused as the pair locked eyes in the tension of the moment.

It was only then that the Pharaoh realised what was happening. His eyes grew wide, while Setesh’s narrowed, and then…

The Pharaoh burst into uproarious laughter, allowing himself to finally fall backwards. 

‘Heavens, Setesh! You almost had me there!’

Setesh’s mouth cocked in a half-smile as he gazed down upon his friend, then shook his head, extending a hand to help the Pharaoh to his feet.

Relaxing now, Masika breathed a silent sigh of relief behind the statue, gesturing to Panya that all seemed well.

‘If you continue to insist on coming without protection, you need to stay on your guard. Ending your life just now would have been far too easy…’

Waving Setesh’s hand away, the Pharaoh pushed himself to his feet, still chuckling lightly.

‘No matter,’ he said nonchalantly, seemingly unbothered by the thought. ‘Our dealings are far too sensitive to involve others unnecessarily.’

‘I must disagree, my friend.’ 

‘On the seriousness of our business?’

Setesh snorted, shaking his head once more and turning as the pair began to walk for the Temple entrance. 

‘On your protection being unnecessary involvement… You are Pharaoh now; have been for a time. There are many who would take your life just for existing as you do.’

‘So travel with me and replace my guard,’ the Pharaoh suggested. By the roll of Setesh’s eyes, it was clearly far from the first time he had been given such an offer.

The pair were all but out of earshot by this point, so Masika decided to tail them and see what she could learn. Turning, she beckoned to Panya to follow quietly, then crept across to the other side of the platform, only moving higher up the steps when the men were a safe enough distance ahead. 

‘You know I have more pressing things to worry about, now…’

Sighing, the Pharaoh nodded. 

‘I know little of such things, but I understand… Now that you mention it, however, I have to know. Does my being here mean that the preparations are complete? Or did I leave valuable soldiers to die for idle chatter?’

Masika’s breath caught in her throat at the Pharaoh’s shocking words. Just what preparations was he talking about? What could be so important he would walk away from a live battlefield just to investigate?

Smiling widely, Setesh shook his head.

‘The final pieces are being put into place as we speak… Osiris and Isis have barely left the crypt in days, Captain Tekin has been preparing himself in isolation for at least as long, and Nephthys waits just as impatiently as you and I. All that is left is the selection.’

‘I see,’ the Pharaoh replied thoughtfully, walking between the two large gateway pillars and into the first chamber of the Temple of Karnak. ‘Has your wife been made aware of the selection?’

Behind the men, the two slave girls darted back and forth between sphinx statues as they crept up the final climb, still moving unnoticed by their targets.

‘Please,’ Setesh snorted. ‘Nephthys would never agree willingly to that; much as she might try to hide her nature, the truth is that she simply is not like the rest of us. The selection will have to be made without her knowing.’ 

Selection? What selection?

Masika found herself continuing to grow more and more confused the more the men spoke, but pressed on regardless, hoping for some real information. Obviously, her plans to assist the Pharaoh in whatever troubles he had encountered were completely dashed, but she and Panya had already come too far to turn back now. The only thing left to do was learn.

Nodding, the Pharaoh fell silent for a moment as he and Setesh walked among the crowd inside the Temple’s chamber, exchanging nods and smiles with the finer folk as they passed. They kept moving forward, stopping only for a moment to leave an offering at the sidelined central shrine before continuing on.

Inside the chamber, the girls had a lot more cover in the combined forms of the crowds passing by, and the pillars lining the pathway that stretched to the heavens to hold the open-centred ceiling in place. With this added layer of protection, they felt confident in walking a little closer, so as to avoid being seperated by any large groups in the way.

Moving into the second chamber, Masika realised that the men had begun to speak in whispers, apparently unwilling to wait until they had reached a place of privacy before continuing their conversation. 

Predicting that the men would stop by the shrine in this chamber just as they had the first, Masika flipped up the hoods on the tattered robes she and Panya wore, then guided Panya quickly past the men and to the shrine. Once there, she lowered herself to her knees and pulled Panya down with her, both pretending to lose themselves in prayer.

The men approached the shrine and stood a pace behind the girls, just barely speaking loudly enough for Masika to overhear the Pharaoh’s next few words.

‘Nephthys will be angry… She will not be ready to join us in the Western crypt tonight.’

Setesh hummed his agreement, and the pair turned to continue on their way. 

Masika and Panya shared a look, both just as confused as the other. Still, at least the mention of an Western crypt might be something to go on…

Waiting in place until the men were far enough away, Masika began to form a plan and relay it to Panya, who listened intently, nodding all the while, her face shining with the excitement of mystery.

A short time later, the men headed South along the elevated stone walkway that led from the Temple of Karnak to the Archive near the city centre. Masika and Panya followed them out of the Temple, though Panya split off and travelled down a dirt path that was attached to the walkway near the Temple gates, sprinting along the base on the stone walkway as it branched off to the right, back to the Temple of Luxor. 

On the stone pathway, Masika followed the men as they approached the intersecting sections of the walkway. Slowing to a stop, the men stood by the Western offshoot as they ended their conversation. What they were saying, Masika couldn’t be sure; on such an open and exposed walkway, she had little choice but to hang back and follow from a distance, out of earshot. 

As she watched, Setesh clapped the Pharaoh once on the shoulder, then broke away to the right, heading for the Temple of Luxor. The Pharaoh, for his part, stood in place a moment longer, staring after his lifelong friend, before continuing South to procure a feast.

Breathing a silent prayer for luck, both for Panya and for herself, Masika pressed on, following the Pharaoh. At the same time, Panya finally paused to catch her breath for a moment, standing at the base of the sandy slope that rejoined the farthest end of the stone walkway.

Looking around, Panya spied a cluster of water jugs resting by the roadside only a few steps away. Exhaling deeply to slow her breathing, she straightened and moved, retreiving one of the jugs and making her way up the slope, still hiding under cover of her hooded robe. 

Glancing left quickly as she reached the top of the slope and walked onto the large stone walkway, Panya noticed Setesh on his approach, moving quickly.

Averting her eyes and turning away, Panya made a beeline for the entrance to the Temple of Luxor. Moving with purpose, she hefted the water jug high and disappeared into the darkness of the Temple as Setesh arrived before it, glancing around at the citizens making there way in every direction.

To the keen eyes watching from above, it was clear he was searching for someone.

‘Setesh! What brings you, my love?’ Nephthys called down, standing on a platform above the entrance. Whether he heard her or not, her husband showed no reaction, so she turned away to make her way down.

Inside the Temple, Panya was hiding in a shadowy corner, tucked behind another group of water jugs, including the one she had carried inside. When Setesh didn’t follow her inside, however, and she heard Nephthys’ voice call out to him, she began to crawl out of hiding.

‘Panya! Are you okay?’

‘I heard you fell from the Temple walls!’

‘No, she was pushed!’

A small group of her fellow slaves under Nephthys’ ownership suddenly spied Panya as she ventured further into the Temple, rushing to the young girl and crowding around her.

Shaking her head and attempting to push free of the small crowd, Panya spied Nephthys as she reached the bottom of the steps on her way down from the upper level. Breaking free of the surprised hands of the other slaves, Panya ran to greet her master. Behind her, the other slaves waved her off and continued out of the Temple, likely heading to their quarters for what little rest they could afford.

‘Little Panya,’ Nephthys observed, her surprise hidden by her deadpan tone. ‘I was under the impression you were making an attempt to escape your duties…’

Panya’s eyes fell for a moment, a sight not lost on Nephthys, before she steeled herself and met her owner’s gaze.

‘I was, but I came back to warn you.’

Nephthys blinked, completely taken aback by the slave’s honesty and words.

‘Warn me? Whatever for?’

Looking around nervously, Panya noticed Setesh making his way into the Temple, still seemingly searching. Swallowing with a nervousness she couldn’t quite explain, Panya turned back to Nephthys and began to speak quickly.

‘The Pharaoh is planning something with Setesh and the others behind your back. I know not what, but they said it will make you angry, and that they have to make a selection tonight without you knowing. Something about it all scared me, so I came to warn you,’ she finished, then attempted to walk past Nephthys. 

Grabbing the girl by the arm and spinning her on the spot, Nephthys turned to look at her once more. She said nothing, merely scanned the child’s eyes with her own, studying something within. 

Frowning, she straightened herself and stood tall, letting go of the girl’s arm. Motioning with her head, she silently instructed Panya to leave through the side exit. Standing in place, she watched curiously as the girl hurried along as directed, back out to the ramparts she was tending to earlier. 

‘Ah, hello, my dear.’

Setesh’s voice came from right behind Nephthys, drawing her out of her thoughts. Turning back to face him, Nephthys adopted a smile as befitting such an important figure in Thebes.

‘Hello, Seti,’ she responded, using her pet name for her husband.

Though he returned her smile convincingly, Setesh continued to scan the chamber, still searching for whatever it was he sought.

‘Amenhotep just sailed in from battle,’ Setesh informed her as his eyes returned to her own. ‘It seems he needs to catch up on some vital information before he returns, so he headed straight for the Archive. I have invited him to our home tonight for a meal and to rest, then he will be gone again in the morrow.’’

‘This is all rather sudden,’ Nephthys responded with a frown and a furrowed brow.

‘Enough of that,’ Setesh cut in, ignoring her words as he smoothed her brow with his thumb. ‘It is… Unbecoming.’

Stifling herself, Nephthys returned the smile to her face and nodded. 

‘Of course, my love. I shall send someone to begin preparations at once.’

‘See that you hurry,’ her husband responded without hesitation as he turned away. ‘He will be finished at the Archive soon enough, and you know that he is not a patient man.’

Of course, the true meaning of Setesh’s words was not lost on Nephthys. Amenhotep was as patient as any situation needed him to be; it was Setesh himself whom she was to avoid keeping waiting.

Turning and making her way after Panya, Nephthys found herself frowning once more. As much as she loved her husband, he could be quite difficult at times, and he only seemed to be growing worse over time.

Stepping into the cool evening air, Nephthys turned to face the small figure standing just beside the entrance. 

‘I will need to deal with you and Masika when this is all over.’

‘I understand,’ Panya responded.

Nodding, Nephthys allowed herself to smile a little in the waning light.

‘It seems your warning may have held some truth to it… I will need to investigate further, but I thank you. I knew I was right to favor you.’

A strange sense of pride welled up within Panya, and she ducked her head. 

‘For now,’ Nephthys continued, ‘I need you to run along to the Archive and figure out what it is our Pharaoh seeks, then come return to me when you find something.’

Good luck, little one. Quickly, now, before the others see me acting in such a manner.’

Nodding once, Panya ran back through the same gateway she had originally entered, hurrying along the large walkway before turning to the right to make her way across the parallel path below. It was while she ran across this path that she collided with what felt like a stone wall, falling back and sprawling onto the ground.

Laying there on the ground, she heard a gruff voice call out in surprised annoyance.

‘Hey! Watch it, or next time you may meet my spear.’

Still laying on the ground, a little off the path now, Panya heard the jostling of armor as the group of guards she had collided with marched past, heading the opposite direction. She found it odd that they were moving without torches, but decided they must be simply returning late from evening patrol.

Rising to her feet and dusting herself off, Panya shrugged to herself and continued on. 

Inside the Archive, Masika looked around in stunned bewilderment. She had followed Amenhotep inside without difficulty, but while waiting for him to ascend the staircase within by the right wall - to at least the point where the stairs turned to the left, guiding him out of sight - she had become enthralled by the many parchments strewn about, covered in strange symbols and a language the likes of which she had never seen.

After a few minutes of attempting to make sense of one such parchment, Masika’s head snapped up with the sudden realisation that she had lost track of time. Cautiously approaching the stairs, she sneaked her way to the upper level, listening and watching intently for any signs of detection. From the top of the staircase, she was able to peer around the shelving display to her left, ensuring there was nobody in the room. 

Stepping into the centre, she gazed around quickly at the parchments and treasures that lay within, growing more and more concerned that she had yet to encounter a single guard; it seemed the nobles possessed too little trust for even their own guards to leave them with such things.

Noticing a low table situated against the middle of the bannister for the stairs she had just climbed, or rather the freshly lit torches in the upright sconce alongside it, Masika approached and began to scan the table. Most of the parchments resting on its surface were rolled and sealed, save for one. Mostly blank, the parchment bore only one arrangement; holding it up before the lit torches in their standing sconce, Masika could make out thirty varying symbols arranged in a circle around what appeared to be a rough sketch of a round platform. Staring at the symbols, Masika could make out what appeared to be some kind of flame, a droplet, and a cloud. Beyond those three, she could make no sense of any. 

While Masika studied the parchment in her hands, she heard a sudden thud coming from somewhere to her right. Turning suddenly, she knocked her hand against the standing sconce. Cursing herself silently, Masika paused and listened, unsure if she had given herself away. A moment passed with no sound, followed by a light wooden knock.

Stuffing the parchment inside her robes, she turned and began to creep as quickly as she could manage into the L-shaped room across the stairway below, turning the corner only to see a group of burning parchments drifting through the air from the centre of the room to the wall now to her right. With nobody else in the room, Masika rushed forward and began to stomp out the burning parchments, picking up what was left and tucking them away in the other side of her robe.

At the end of the room sat an ornate wooden table, covered in more rolled parchments and a small, lit candle. On the other side of this desk, a single chair lay overturned on the floor - likely the source of the initial noise. Facing the table, Masika noticed the open window to her left, and made her way to it. 

Looking down, she barely noticed the dirty footprint on the windowsill, explaining the Pharaoh’s absence and the final knocking. Peering through the window at the ground a level below, she saw nothing out of the ordinary. Sighing, but unsure whether out of disappointment or relief, Masika decided she should make her exit.

After turning away from the open window, it took Masika a moment too long to realise that the sight she was met with, blocking her view of the rest of the room, was the decadently dressed torso of a nobleman.

‘You have one chance to explain your presence here,’ came Setesh’s low, anger-filled voice, sending tremors of fear throughout her entire body. Frozen in place, Masika lifted her gaze and looked into the crimson, hate-filled eyes of her owner’s husband.

‘I- I, uh…’

‘Not good enough,’ Setesh growled, grabbing her by the back of her head.

Spinning on the spot, he slammed her forward and down until her head collided with the table, sending a flash of white light through her eyes and knocking her unconscious. Letting go of the girl, he watched pitilessly as she crumbled to the ground.

Stretching his arms and yawning, he called for guards from behind him as he leaned against the wall, peering out the window. A moment later, two of his guards walked into the room, and with the lift of a finger, Setesh had them drag the motionless Masika away.

Having made her way around the large pool to the South of the Archive, Panya approached the building from the West once more. She was looking forward to regrouping with Masika, but the closer she got to the building, the more she felt that something was wrong.

Reaching the rear entrance, Panya was just about to step inside when she heard guards approaching. Stepping back and moving around the corner, she waited a few moments for the guards to leave before peering back around. Rather than just a couple of guards walking away, however, she saw something that made her blood run cold - the silhouettes of two large guards dragging a smaller, lifeless figure by the arms, turning to the West and walking out of sight as Panya watched, petrified with shock.

Searching for the strength to move, she jumped, startled, when a hand suddenly fell upon her shoulder. She tried to scream in surprised fear, but another hand clamped over her mouth, killing any sound before she had a chance to make it. In the darkness of the early night, the figure behind Panya began to drag her back as she kicked and squirmed fruitlessly.