Chapter 42 Dawn
Dawn
Zahra looked at the ruined city of Inebu-hedj in the dark morning.
The entire northeast side was in ruins: homes had crumbled, livestock was lost, and there were thousands dead that were being carried toward Deshret to be buried in deep graves of sand.
The obelisk had broken in thirds, and its once-brilliant white stone lay scattered on homes and streets.
More suffered in the northern cities that Zahra couldn’t see.
Her stefana hung in her hand, scratched but still intact.
She placed the crown on her head, sucked in a quivering breath, and turned and made the trek back toward the pr-aa.
The fires had gone out hours ago, but the soldiers and servants who had died from Zosar and Iset’s flames were still numbered among the crumbled stone.
It would take many days to sort through the wreckage, and even more to deliver the awful news to their families—if they were still alive to receive it.
The once-lush gardens were covered in ash and soot.
The remnants of flower beds protected by stone could barely be seen through the wreckage.
In the middle of the garden, no longer hidden from view, was a stone bench covered in ash.
Upon it sat a Pharaoh King, who leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, his eyes trained on his wounded home.
Zahra placed her hand on Namir’s shoulder. Numbly, he reached his hand up and placed it on hers. She placed her other hand on his other shoulder, rubbing his tense muscles. “How are your uncle and Ramses?”
“Waaiz is as stubborn as he has always been,” Namir remarked. “He refuses to rest despite his injuries.”
Zahra smiled softly, though it faded as she considered Namir’s silence. “And Ramses?”
Namir was quiet. He took in a trembling breath. “He is resting, but he may never walk again.”
Zahra placed a kiss on Namir’s curls. “But he is alive.”
Namir nodded, but still he focused on the burnt pr-aa. “I cannot help but think, while my people bury their loved ones, here I am with half of my family gone and no bodies to bury. Only ash and their memory remains.”
“O méli.” Zahra massaged his shoulders. “You cannot blame yourself.”
“I should have known.”
“Neither of us could have known. You don’t blame me for not knowing, do you?”
“Of course not,” Namir said, “but she was my sister. I… I thought…”
Zahra’s heart hurt as his voice broke. She sat beside him, rubbing his back as he cried.
The pain would not soon leave, she knew.
The ache sat in her chest, too. Though her father and people were still alive, she mourned with Namir.
For a mother that cared for him and a sister he chose over all others.
Zahra stood when she heard someone approaching and placed her hand on Namir’s shoulder.
He wiped at his eyes, glancing back. Waaiz’s forehead creased in worry for a moment, but his stoic face returned, and he bowed with his hand on his chest. “My Pharaohs, the people request an audience. They are afraid and need your leadership.”
“Have them gather by and on the Iteru,” Zahra instructed. “We will come when we are ready.”
Waaiz bowed his head. “Yes, Pharaoh Queen.”
Zahra knelt in front of Namir once Waaiz had turned away. “I can speak to them alone if you need more time.”
Namir shook his head, removing his hand from his eyes. “Today is the first day that I am their Pharaoh. I must make a good impression.”
Zahra smiled softly, brushing her finger gently on the crusted blood from the cut on his cheek. The wound was deep but short. It would heal, and so would he. They all would.
Zahra and Namir walked hand in hand toward the river.
Their clothes and skin were still covered in ash, but they had cleaned up their faces and arms a bit.
The last many hours had been spent helping the remainder of the people who had survived escape their homes.
With the last person rescued, the eagles had taken to the skies and disappeared into the stars.
When they stood on the hill overlooking the Iteru, Zahra saw thousands upon thousands of people awaiting them, Aurans and Ionians alike. Torches and lamps covered the river and shores.
The Iteru itself extended well past the border of Aur in the distance. They had received word not long ago that the wall at the south end of Aur had crumbled because of the force of the water. The Iteru now flowed into Deshret, sharing the water’s blessings with the Naqada.
Waaiz and other medjay approached Zahra and Namir. Waaiz bowed his head. “Speak whenever you are ready, Pharaohs, and we will carry your words to those who cannot hear.”
Zahra squeezed Namir’s hand, smiling encouragingly. “They will listen.”
Namir glanced at her, taking a long breath.
He turned to the people, and the valley went quiet.
“Last night was one of the longest nights in our history. We were attacked on all fronts, and Re and Nebthet themselves disappeared from the skies. But they did not abandon us. They fought with us, and the darkest part of the night has passed.”
Zahra continued. “Never again will this people suffer at chaos’s hands. Last night was our darkest moment, but today marks a new era. One where we are united against evil instead of susceptible to its servants.”
“From this day forth, we will be one people,” Namir proclaimed. “Those from Ionia and those descended from the first Aurans—including our brothers and sisters in Deshret—will be one.”
“The days to come will be filled with mourning,” Zahra said, “but we must mourn together. Only if we are together will we be able to rebuild what was lost today and pay tribute to those we have lost.”
Namir nodded. “Evil has taken much from us. Fathers. Mothers. Brothers. Sisters. Dearest friends, and our very own queen. But their memory will not be sullied. We will build monuments to remember this day, and we will rebuild Re’s temple and build many others for the other netjeru, starting with the other netjer of the sky, Nebthet. ”
Zahra smiled softly at Namir, thanking him with her eyes as the people cheered.
Namir managed a small smile. He turned to the people once more. “Today, we will mourn all we have lost. Tomorrow, we will celebrate the start of a new era with my Pharaoh Queen and me. Then, we will rebuild. Aur will heal, and we will move forward into a brighter future.”
Cheers came from the medjay and people nearby. The sound spread, and soon the entire valley was cheering.
A joyous feeling filled Zahra’s soul, and she stood tall beside Namir.
The people dispersed, and medjay followed Zahra and Namir down to the ash-covered pier in Inebu-hedj. A few joined them on the boat, and Zahra sat with Namir as they set out to Sea. Namir held the sheet-covered object, staring at it but not daring to reveal its glass surface.
They stopped some distance from the shores of Aur, and Zahra put her hand on Namir’s arm. “Are you ready?”
Namir was silent for a moment. He took in a shaky breath, handing the object to Zahra. “Yes.”
Zahra took the Thoth from the sheet, letting the fabric fall to the floor of the boat.
Golden sand blocked her view of what was inside, though she knew at least two souls were within, if not more.
The mark of the Pharaohs’ wings grew hot below her collarbone as she held the Thoth by its cool metal spires.
The mark was barely visible on her skin, and it looked as if it had always been there.
Namir had a similar one on his chest, so faint she would have thought it was a birthmark.
These were the marks Selene had warned they would forever carry, and they were the marks she and Namir would pass down through their line.
This was their choice—a burden but also a reminder of what had occurred that day.
Never again would Iset trick the children of Re into serving her, and if another would come to threaten Aur, they would be ready.
Zahra placed her bare feet on the edge of the boat. It tilted a little from the shift in weight. She held the Thoth out to the Sea, her sibyl mark appearing on her head. “Selene, I call upon you. Send this where man can never find it.”
Selene’s voice came softly. “I will hide it in the deepest part of the Sea.”
The crescent moon became full on Zahra’s head, and her eyes glowed a brilliant silver.
Light glowed beneath the water’s surface.
The Sea moved on its own, swirling in two columns to where Zahra held the Thoth.
The water wrapped around it, and the Sea pulled the Thoth into it.
The Thoth’s lavender light disappeared into its depths.
Zahra pulled in a breath as Selene left her mind. Namir stood near her, his arms outstretched as if she might fall. She turned to him with a smile. “It is done.”
Namir smiled and took her hands. “Then let us go home.”
Namir and Zahra sat as the medjay guided the boat back to shore. A tawny eagle flew above them, and Zahra and Namir looked up. Zahra grinned. “Hello, Mamá.”
Katerina cawed, coasting in the wind above them. Sunlight leaked into the sky, and the first glimpse of the sun could be seen behind the boat.
Zahra let out a gasp as her eyes traced the beautiful colors of purple, pink, and gold. “Namir, look.”
“I see it.”
She turned toward him and found him staring at her. She laughed. “You didn’t even look!”
He grinned. “I did not need to.” He tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. “I can see it all within your eyes—every sunrise and sunset.”
Zahra’s cheeks grew warm, and she placed her hands on his face, mindful of his cut. “And in yours I see every night and the stars which call the sky their home.”
They kissed, smiling together. Namir let out a breathy laugh. “It is so quiet. The obelisk would usually be going off right now. We will need to start construction on a new one.”
“Don’t think about that now.” She pulled him closer, their noses brushing. “It’s dawn.”