Qar watched as Amen flouted his magic openly, absorbed in its use and the power it gave him. That feeling of ascending to another level, feeling the benevolence of the gods shining upon you, was one Qar could relate to. While he rarely used his magic, perhaps because his nature demanded restraint or because Thoth was not a god who rewarded excess use of his patronage, he could well remember the first time he had felt that power moving through him.

Unfortunately, now that he had stepped into the ring, Qar could not merely stand and watch. Two thugs, seeing Amen's magic, sheered off towards Qar while the remaining man challenge the young Pharaoh directly. It was tempting, in this situation, to use his own magic; a simple matter of removing himself from the sight of the thugs and disabling them with well-aimed blows would be child's play. However, Qar restrained himself and instead stepped back quickly to give himself more room to manoeuvre. Assuming that Amen's reign continued, there would be times when Qar would have to defend the Pharaoh from skilled assailants or perhaps use his magic to aid an escape. No one knew who Amen was but there would be those who might recognise him, especially those already watching him, and his greatest weapon would be the secrecy of his magic.

The first thug moved forwards, confident but more wary than the first man who Qar had felled easily. They had seen his movements and knew that they were facing someone at least able to fight a brawl and held their cudgels ready, simple but brutal weapons that could easily shatter a bone when applied properly. Qar shifted his stance to face the man, aware that the other was circling around into his blind spot. When both were in position they charged and the physician, waiting for that moment, moved swiftly. Lighter on his feet and fitter than either thug, he stepped back and twisted to the side, narrowly avoiding a blow from behind. He jabbed the man in his side, making him falter, reflexively twisting away from the blow and exposing his neck. One more blow and the man went down but the remaining thug was already upon Qar.

Swinging the cudgel down in what would be a crushing blow, the thug hoped to catch Qar off guard. Instead the physician stepped out of the way and then twisted his torso when the follow through blow, an awkwardly thrown punch while off-balance, came. He allowed it roll across his torso and shoulder, glancing away with the force spent before ramming a fist into the thug's solar-plexus. As the man gasped for breath and folded over, Qar delivered the final blow to the side of the man's head behind the ear.

By now the Guard had arrived and Amen was busying himself freeing the slaves. It appeared Qar had taken too long; he had planned to take the slaves into his own ownership as recompense for the slavers' assault and then freed them quietly when attention had moved on. While he was not completely opposed to slavery, a certain institutionalised notion ingrained him, it was clear that these particular slaves were people from the Kingdom or nearby and had been forced into their situation rather than sold or captured from foreign lands.

"Stand down, this matter is settled." Qar carefully flexed his shoulder, making sure the blow that glanced off of it would not cause any issues but he doubted it had had enough force to even bruise the skin. He shrugged his upper robe on properly and readjusted his sash as he spoke the leader of the Guard troop, calm in his manner as if the battle had been no trouble. In truth, it had not but the appearance of strength would at least make the spread of rumours positive. "These slavers were criminals I encountered in the north of the Kingdom. Why they were allowed into the city can wait until another day," he had no idea, of course, of the slavers' identity but putting the Guard on the back foot would make them much easier to manipulate, "for now, lock them up but no one is to speak to them until I have. Am I clear?" Confidence and authority was something that Qar had learned to feign, it was not something that came naturally to him, from his travels; people were more likely to listen to and believe someone who seemed to believe what they were saying and assumed their orders would be carried out.

There was a minor trouble with the slaves being allowed free but a signal from Qar and they were let free into the city. Sadly, Qar fully expected to see many back in chains, starving or dead within a week but there was only so much they could do now. He supposed one of the things he would have to educate Amen in would be thinking through his actions to completion, perhaps Qar's mild mannered and deliberate approach to all things was why he had been chosen. Soon, he would have to stop trying to work out why he had been chosen, he decided.

"I think... I think I know what it is that I wish to do now. We should return to the palace. I'm sure we've kept the others waiting for long enough." There was a new purpose in Amen's eyes. Up until now there had been a nervousness brought about by a lack of direction, the young Pharaoh eager to escape the trappings of his power. Now he could see something he could do with it, a reason to become Pharaoh. He did not ask, Amen would tell them in time he was sure.

"Of course, Amen. Let us go."

There was tension in the study. Qar noted how Priestess Nebet had been standing by Satiah's chair before noting their arrival. Whatever had been said before they arrived, he suspected it had been a good thing to have interrupted but there would certainly be more conflict between the two in time. During their journey back to the palace, Qar's presence letting them in easily where the guards did not yet recognise Amen, he had tried to consider his position. No longer was he concerned with why he had been chosen. He was there now and he felt it more important to work out what role he should perform and had come to the conclusion that he should become a bridge, a moderating influence who attempted to opposite sides to an agreement while maintaining balance as Thoth would attempt.

That started with healing a divide he himself had created. "Vizier Aperel," Qar spoke as Amen continued around to his position, "I owe you an apology. I was frustrated and unjustly spoke grievous words against you, despite your experience gained through years of service. I hope you will forgive my rashness and allow me to learn from you in the years ahead." He bowed, not expecting to learn anything from the old Vizier whom he suspected of being placed to create divides. Instead, Qar was thinking of how best to limit the old man's influence by pandering to his ego.

First, however, Amen spoke. It was an honest speech, not eloquent and the lack of authority in his words made Qar grateful for the lack of slaves or other officials in the study; it would not do for the Pharaoh to appear weak. His conviction now, though, was stronger and he was prepared to work with them even if it meant changing his ways although he recognised his own shortfalls in accepting guidance and that, at least, was a hopeful sign.

Astute as ever, the Priestess picked up in Amen's change in attitude which had Qar thinking rapidly how to intervene. He intended to inform them all of the events in the city but not in the presence of the Pharaoh, the inevitable recriminations might serve only to reverse Amen's newfound purpose. "The Pharaoh spent his time amongst the people and learned of their plight. I watched him speak to some stallholders and has found that there are things he can do that, perhaps, he had not thought of before." He glanced at Amen, hoping that the young man would pick up on why Qar was avoiding the full story. Rather than allow further questions, he forged on with a proposal.

"As I searched for the Pharaoh I considered our progress up until this point... or lack thereof. Each of us in this room," he gestured to the Viziers present, "have a particular area of expertise. Our different experiences are causing us to clash because we are trying to weigh them up against one another. Instead, would it not be better to focus upon pieces in which we have the most experience?"

Qar was gesturing now, pointing at the Viziers in turn as he spoke.

"Priestess Nebet is the wisest of us when it comes to the matters of the nobility and keeping balance in the court, in matters of law and theology. Satiah is the most experienced warrior amongst us with knowledge of what the ordinary people care about. My experience is... mixed but I believe the most I can contribute is experienced from the frontiers of the Kingdom to which I have travelled, where the Pharaoh's reign is weakest and where we will need loyalty amongst his officials most." Qar gestured towards Amen now, less directly in respect of the man's station but after their brief battle he felt a little less nervous around the young man.

"Pharaoh Amen cannot convey words he does not understand the purpose of and so must at least know the reasoning and aim of what we craft for him for the speech to be successful. And finally, Vizier Aperel is our Master Scribe able to forge our differing views, hopes and goals into one coherent speech for the Pharaoh to deliver to all in the realm, both noble and poor."

Qar moved to sit but thought better of it and instead remained standing, not wishing to give up the floor. If they were to come to any kind of agreement then they would need a moderating influence, an arbiter, and it certainly should not be up to the Pharaoh to rein in his Viziers.

As Nebet spoke and as she moved, Satiah could feel it in the back of her brain. A sense that she knew quite well: the sense of foreboding before a conflict.

The priestess really, really wanted to inflict a great deal of harm her, didn’t she? Her barely restrained rage was evident in her language, both verbal and corporal. She was close to snapping, Satiah was sure. If she could get the priestess to succumb to her rage, the attendant would consider it a job well-done. This would be good in that esoteric way that they loved so much, maybe even for Nebet herself; the priestess’ repression was clear - no doubt the result of those “divine edicts” that priestly types clung to like a man drowning - and maybe she would get to learn a something she couldn’t get from those scriptures of hers. For example, Satiah had often been called a fool, and what was the first rule when dealing with fools? Don’t argue unless you’re willing to match them.

“It’s interesting that you say those things...” Just one final push, and she had lots of options. Challenge her infallible wisdom? Refute her answer with increasing nonsensicality? Poke more holes in her reliance on fickle nobility? Suggest she lacks faith in the kingdom and the Pharaoh? Or maybe all at once? “Because why wou-”

-----------Damn it.

It was before she could say anything else that Amen and Qar reappeared, shifting the attention to them and, sadly, stopping Satiah from stoking the flames of the priestess’ passion. Was this what the men in her troop called ‘getting blueballed’ felt like? She even planned on giving her a cute nickname like Apple: “Nebby”. Whatever the case, she was quite unsatisfied with this resolution, but soon found satisfaction from a different source.

She’d keep that nickname in her back pocket, though. She quite liked the sound of it, even in a non-mocking respect.

“A great Pharaoh for the kingdom’s sake, huh?” Satiah echoed, more to consider the thought herself than any mockery of the sentiment. She liked the sound of it, at least. The affirmation of his resolve was definitely a step in the right direction, as far as knowing himself and improving the people's’ quality of life went, but it was still an untested resolve, malleable and in flux - albeit not as much as it seemed before. He still had his doubts and his misgivings, and he too quickly resolved to merely ‘try’ and all too readily accepted a short reign. But the slave had hopes for the boy, and for now, she was confident in his abilities to grow. “I like the sound of that.”

Of course now, with Qar’s lie of omission and Nebet so kindly bringing up what exactly they were doing for so long, there was a choice to make here. A well-placed comment could ignite further chaos within the study - a veritable shatterpoint of discord, as it were. The question here was: did she want to tap it? Yes, if only just to see everyone squirm a bit more and to test the Pharaoh’s resolve. But would she?

No.

She was quite aware that small actions could lead to wide-reaching consequences. In the past, this had been well-applied with surgical strikes on key enemy formations. Now though, cross-applying those principles to human interaction was a simple enough effort; as much as she hated political process and held little talent for the subterfuge part, the ‘impact’ part was not lost on her. This one had too many negative consequences for friendly entities. Entertaining consequences, but still negative. She’d had too much fun today anyway, and it was kind of a dick move.

Besides, someone was bound to do it eventually for her.

“Is that so…? Okay then,” Satiah commented in response to Qar’s explanation. “Now I guess it’s only right that we catch you guys up on what’s been happening too then. Let’s see...” She paused in thought, thinking of how to convey the right combination of barely restrained rage and lack of anything being done in the most appropriate way possible.

“...We were slaving away here, discussing topics like upper class dissent and how to effectively deflect it, Amen’s tone, and how to direct the speech in the most strategic manner. Of course our discussion was getting pretty heated,” she paused, then continued innocently and remorselessly. In her mind, she justified it as being an indication of her awareness. “You’d almost think you were about to watch a brawl in the streets, except friendlier, made of palace officials, inside a study, and more liable to cause a great scandal among any civilians who became aware of it. Fortunately everything seems to have ended for the best, isn’t that right Priestess Neb-”

The air became strange. Forbodingly strange, and everyone could tell.

“-et?”

The atmosphere faded as fast as it came. Weird. Maybe it was just because she was using a title? At any rate, Satiah rested her hands on her lap, unaffected.

“But anyway, yes, that concludes my report. We should get moving though. Time’s running out,” she said, gesturing to the hourglass on the table, “Guess the most important question here is: what’d you see out there, Amen? That's definitely the best place to start if we want to get anywhere.”

The sun is starting to set on the city of Thebes, painting the sky in purple and orange hues. Work had began a few days ago on the festival to welcome the kingdom's new pharaoh. The palace officials and servants worked tirelessly to ensure tonight's festivities will proceed as smoothly as possible. Iaret played no small part in all of this. It was her efforts that proved to be the greatest contribution. Despite her claims that her role was now limited to being a "minor adviser", in reality, she had her hands in just about every aspect of the palace's affairs. She did so for her late husband and pharaoh, Thutmose; now she will do the same for Amen. With so much involvement, one must question her motives in all of this. What is she to gain from all her effort? What exactly is her endgame?

Back in the study, Amen and his royal retinue have approximately two and a half hours left until the speech is due. Not only do the viziers have to craft the speech, but Amen has to memorize it as well in order to deliver his address to the people of Thebes and, ultimately, the kingdom as a whole. The majority of time had been wasted either by disagreements among the viziers or Amen deciding he'd rather be elsewhere. Fortunately, Amen had come to a critical realization and now has decided to place his faith in his viziers to mold him into a great pharaoh, deserving of the throne. Nebet wastes no time in asking Amen of what events have transpired that has caused this sudden change in him.

Qar, ever the mediator, is just as quick in excusing Amen from having to explain himself; opting instead to weave an explanation that omits the troubling street brawl. Amen remains silent on the matter but his gut tells him that Nebet won't so easily commit to Qar's story. Qar suggests that they all use their different strengths and experiences to work together instead of against each other like earlier. Satiah then gives a brief summary of what transpired while Amen and Qar were absent, ending her report with a question regarding what Amen had witnessed while outside the palace. There seems to be somewhat of an odious atmosphere surrounding her and Nebet, at least only for a brief second. A sign of conflict perhaps? Amen doesn't pay it any more attention.

Amen steps away from the viziers and approaches his seat. "I know what's the first goal I want to work towards. I want to make Thebes and its territories... a free kingdom!" Amen proclaims outright.

"A free kingdom? Y-You can't mean..." Aperel seems concerned about what Amen may say.

"A kingdom without slaves."

"P-Pharaoh Amenhotep, surely you jest?! Such an act can't be possible. The backlash alone!" This is the first time that Aperel seems to be openly opposed against Amen's wishes.

"In the kingdoms of Egypt, there exists the Free Cities Alliance: a collective of kingdoms who have completely abolished slavery within their borders. I know that the slave trade is a lucrative business and it benefits the kingdom's economy greatly, but the kingdoms of the Free Cities Alliance have learned to become prosperous without it. In fact, Luxor, the richest and most powerful kingdom of Egypt is part of that alliance. We should seek to emulate their policies and economic ventures. As a pharaoh, I don't want this kingdom to benefit off the lives of slaves. We can forge a better future for everyone, don't you think?!"

Nebet seemed to mull over Qar's explanation for a moment before sighing. Well, if Qar said nothing happened, then nothing happened. It was not her place to pry any further than she already had. Instead, she put it out of her mind for now. If she had any sort of suspicions with ground to stand on, they weren't going to confirm nor deny it anyways. Instead, she listened to the rest of Qar and Satiahs' words and let the latter sum up the events of their discussion nicely, asking the Pharoah what he saw on his outing.

His answer though, caused Aperel to be absolutely shocked, and with good reason. Making the city a 'free state'? What in the world was he thinking? The mount of enemies alone that would gain him would ensure him a swift death! His ensuing reasoning sounded nothing more than pure idealism and folly to her, really, and if she had her personal opinion she'd be heavily against it. Slaves were there for a reason, and as he said an important part of the economy. Certainly there were ways to deal with that, but...Nebet sighed, placing a hand on her head, resting her elbow on the table. It was easy to tell she was tired, and perhaps a little frustrated.

"That is...quite the suggestion Pharoah Amen. My personal opinion aside, I can't see how we could accomplish such a thing without heavy resistance from...well, everyone. The nobles, any slave holders, businesses...if I may put it bluntly, you'd be making an enemy out of everyone if you even hint at such a thing in the speech. You'd be dead or run from the palace within the week, I would assume, and as much as Vizier Satiah thinks she could, no one here would be able to stop it from happening." She sat back up, moving her hand to her chin in thought before continuing.

"I must confess I would rather not get rid of it, but if it is what you wish Pharoah Amen, then it is our jobs to make it happen with as little trouble as possible." The priestess really wanted that drink right about now. Also maybe find a nice lively tavern and dust off her dancing clothes...the mere thought of trying to accomplish such a thing wasn't even easy to think about, and it'd be even more difficult to put into practice even if he was more secure in his throne. "But that is a thought for another time. We Viziers will discuss the matter in detail later, after the speech. For now I would suggest not mentioning it at all until we have some idea of how we can do it and assess how many people would potentially be convinced to support such a radical policy change. Otherwise, it would do nothing but make everyone with something to lose your enemy, some very influential people would see it as an opportunity to seize power from you and make the thought of such a thing pointless and nothing more than empty words."

That was her thoughts on the matter. She may not approve of the idea, but it was not her place to question the Pharoah, merely advise and if needed.

Zamonth had remained in the corner for the duration of the political babble, knowing very well that Amen had lied about needing to relieve himself. But if he had left now, he would simply make matters worse for Amen.

I can't believe that little bastard. Leaving me here!

There were even a few times Zamonth was addressed, but knowing well they had no concern for his opinion (nor he for their's), he simply ignored them or glared venomously at Aperel. They all could continue to mock him in their minds, see him as a simple tag along to Amen. They could even challenge him, severely underestimating the strength that came along with a man more powerful than any of a warrior island. But the time would come that they see he is not a normal human, that he was not raised by combat standards of any that are norm in the land of Egypt. From birth he was raised to fight, and to kill. His body has been conditioned day after day for all his existence, muscles pushed to their absolute limits time and time again. His speed and endurance in the water were simply unmatched.

But then something interesting happened that, at the very least, gave Zamonth a more positive perspective on Satiah. Not only did she acknowledge the fundamentals of Amen's personality, but she was now willing to put up a fight against not only the old and feeble Aperel, but the high and mighty Priestess as well. He could see the fire in her eyes, being a battle veteran himself, and would very much like to see her duke it out with the Priestess now. He edged closer to the edge of his seat, ready for the inevitable explosion that was going to happen any moment now.

And then Amen walks in.

"Oh, there you are." Now he decided to come back.

Zamonth watched as both Nebet and Saliah bit their tongues and went their separate ways. The one exciting thing he may see all day, and Amen thought now was time to put on his Pharaoh shoes. Well, at least they could get this tiring thing over with now. Qar had some good points to bring up himself actually, he wasn't such a bad guy. As everything settled once again, Zamonth was about to avert both his gaze and attention when Amen grabbed his focus once more.

The abolishment of slavery.

Now they were talking. This was what Zamonth had come here to help Amen with. To change the world. There would be people that sought to slow down Amen, to combat him, and even kill him. But they were well aware of this, the challenges they would need to overcome to achieve Amen's goals. And Zamonth was both well equipped and eager to rise and crush them all.

"I say, let the Pharaoh do what he wants." Though this may light Nebet's fuse again, Zamonth didn't speak with aggression. He remained seated with his arms crossed, one leg resting over the other.

"After all, Viziers or not, we are simply here to advise our young Pharaoh, not make his choices. And as you all have your experience in your respective fields, I have my experience in my field. And in my realm of experience, I have been a slave. Amen has been a slave. If you expect a man who was once a slave to now rule over slaves, you're asking for one sick and perverted thing. Slavery is for those tyrants you spoke of earlier. It does not show true power, but power built by those that are truly more powerful than you. Is that the image you want for great Egypt? Because that's how the rest of the world looks at you. Real people of power don't need chains, and they deserve the opportunity to earn a living with that power. If you make your slaves citizens and pay them with your currency, they will give back to your wretched economy. And if you think there will be a loss of entertainment from the lack of beheadings and other slave spectacles-enter the arena, the colosseum, the ring where not slaves but warriors fight, risking their lives if they choose but nonetheless fighting for money as well as glory. This will keep your pockets full and even give the slaves who do not fit back into society an opportunity to fill some role and keep their bellies full." Zamonth paused as he looked over to Amen.

"Yeah, some people will wish him dead. But as Amen said, he doesn't care if his rule is short. He isn't exactly here to make friends, he's here for change. And this will be the first thing he accomplishes, because his reign will be one unlike any other Pharaoh before him. This isn't a story of politics, this is the story of a Pharaoh that paves a new path for this land. If you all are expecting to serve a half-ass Pharaoh with short sighted ambitions, you better resign now. This is going to be rough and it is going to be dirty. With that out of the way, add some other shit in there about how Egypt can be like Luxor and people will start to see the bigger picture and forget all about slavery; at least for now. I know your greedy nobles want nothing more than to be the most powerful civilization themselves. You just need to give them that hope and they'll do anything. People will do anything for power. Trust me. The hardest part here will be convincing your backwards outdated relic of officials to actually join the Free Cities Alliance." Zamonth shrugged and closed his eyes as leaned back into his seat. "Maybe it won't be great for his first introduction, but it's going to happen. So be ready to at least imply so within his speech and get the council from the Free Cities Alliance over here." Though he was silent for most of the proceedings, as Zamonth promised, his opinion would be heard, and more often than not it would be supporting Amen's.

It was beginning to all make sense. Qar could see the source of the young Pharaoh's resentment, his distrust of the trappings of power and his reluctance to become Pharaoh. Their fight out in the city and his freeing of the slaves had obviously ignited his ambition again, reminded him of a purpose most dear to him and, now that he was here to take the throne there would be no stopping him until that goal was achieved. As the Priestess said, the Viziers were there to advise him and make the Pharaoh's wishes come true, regardless of their personal opinions. As Zamonth, until now quiet and removed from their discussions, spoke Qar could begin to see a uniting purpose in the council.

Aperel would be against such revolutionary talk but Qar had long since assumed the man to be against any kind of reform and suspected him of being some kind of spy anyway. He, himself, and the Priestess both saw benefits to the current status quo but for Qar it was not the practice itself but the order it had brought. For as long as he could remember, and many generations before him could remember, slavery had always been in existence in the Kingdom and it was just an accepted fact. Those who were not a slave were grateful to not be, those who owned slaves became rich because of it and the slaves were too weak to do anything about it. Just freeing all the slaves in the kingdom would turn order on its head and chaos would reign by the end of which the Pharaoh would probably be dead and his kingdom in ruins, split piecemeal between opportunist neighbours. If they were to press on with Amen's wishes then it would take careful planning and enacted in phases with sufficient support to maintain order with some kind of transitional period in place and now, when they were weakest, would be a bad time to announce it.

Finally, the other Viziers had said their bit and Qar sought to brought them back to the task at hand.

"I think we're all agreed that, whatever our own personal opinions the Pharaoh's wishes are ours to make reality. For me, the reality is difficult to imagine but perhaps that is merely the effect of centuries of this status quo. Whatever we do, it must be from a position of strength and gradual. If the Pharaoh, and thus this council, fall before the task is completed then whoever takes control will most likely reinstate the status quo and it will all have been for nought." He turned to Zamonth and nodded in respect to the huge man. "As Zamonth has said, it would not be best to announce this policy right now. It would create too many enemies and our purpose in crafting this speech is to make the Pharaoh's position stable, first and foremost. Once that is done we can begin to find allies who would support the Pharaoh in this, especially amongst leaders in the military." He glanced at Satiah, wondering how well connected she was amongst its leaders. Her control over their armies would be crucial if there were ever a challenge to Amen's authority.

"It would be wise, as Zamonth has said, to make overtures towards the Free Cities Alliance in the Pharaoh's speech. Not to announce our intentions but we can use their experience in abolishing slavery to forge a safe path to that eventuality. We could invite their leaders here under the guise of talks regarding trade; I'm sure the nobility and merchant classes will be pleased with the potential for increased trade regardless of where it comes from. I have some thoughts with how that may tie into our first steps but that is for another time. First we must craft this speech. Vizier Aperel," Qar carefully addressed the old man using his title, "if you could begin. We have little time and the Pharaoh must be able to deliver this speech confidently or else the words themselves will have no meaning and that means practice. I believe we should lead with addressing the concerns of the nobility, as Priestess Nebet and yourself have both made clear they are the greatest threat to the Pharaoh's authority. The less astute will cease to pay attention when the Pharaoh moves onto the matters of the people, giving us greater room to manoeuvre in that regard. I believe Satiah, Zamonth and the Pharaoh himself are best situated to craft that part of the speech."

He looked around the room, seeing the divisions in the group. They were an odd assortment, himself included, to be gathered in one place. With Amen's vision perhaps they could finally work together, whether in respect to his position and authority or through devotion to his cause? Qar was determined to make it all work, even if it meant his role was merely that of peacekeeper.

"It would be best to keep the speech short, we have little time for eloquent prose and the Pharaoh has even less time to commit the speech to memory."

With little else to say, he sat down and hoped, prayed, that they would have enough time to write a worthy speech.

Hearing his council's opinions and advice on the matter, Amen is filled with a small sense of hope. While they may or may not agree with this decision, they acknowledged it nevertheless. They acknowledged his authority and his lawful right to enact changes he feels is best for his kingdom, cementing the idea in Amen's mind that he is now Pharaoh of Thebes. And with this power comes responsibility. First and foremost, the responsibility to listen, and so he did. Despite all of his bravado and arrogance, even Amen can admit that he can't do everything. And so he is glad that he has others with him to shoulder the burden. They are right. Announcing his plan so early would be an act of regicide—particularly terrible considering that he is the pharaoh. It's also not something that should be implemented swiftly. However, a slow implementation also means the continue suffering of slaves. He needs to strike a good balance.

Suddenly, Amen's train of thoughts is interrupted as a familiar face enters the study. "I see, Pharaoh Amen. So you wish to abolish slavery within the kingdom. My, my, your ambition is worthy of applause if nothing else." Iaret says. She is dressed in an elegant ceremonial robe and has adorned herself in jewelry. Perhaps she dolled herself up for the Pharaoh's welcoming festival. "I'm sure you realize the impact of such a decision? It goes against centuries of tradition. Your enemies will pile at your door. They're smart. Even a slow, methodical implementation of such policies wouldn't go unnoticed. They'll know when their way of life is being threatened and they'll fight back. Are you sure you're ready for such a battle?" Iaret cautions.

Amen looks to his council. He feels with their support, he'll be able to accomplish his goal, and so he looks back to Iaret and nods in affirmation. "We'll bring about this revolution. We won't fail."

Iaret smiles hearing his response. "Then I'll help you, as is my duty to the kingdom and the throne. Before going about implementing new, radical policies, you'll need allies. Allies beyond the confines of the kingdom. The Free Cities Alliance." Iaret proclaims. It's as his council says, which Iaret echoes: they'll need to ally themselves with the Free Cities Alliance if they are to see this through. Such an alliance will bring trade and crucial support when Amen begins to implement new policies that will eventually result in the establishment of a free state. "A few weeks from now, a gathering will take place in the city of Garagos: the Free Cities Alliance Summit. The pharaohs of each kingdom within the alliance will personally attend. Pharaoh Amen, you and your esteemed Viziers will attend to announce your intentions of joining the alliance, in secret of course. No one beyond the confines of this study should know of this plan. If word gets out... Let's just say you'll return to a very different Thebes. With that in mind, I'll be sure to send the Free Cities Alliance a message." Just as soon as she arrived, Iaret is ready to leave once more, but before she goes, she reminds them about the speech due in a couple of hours.

So, they have the first part of their plan now: to join the Free Cities Alliance and garner their support. The summit will be in a few weeks time and the journey to Garagos will take at least a day or two through the Sand Sea. But can Iaret be trusted? And who will be in power during Amen's and his vizier's absences? It's no use thinking about it now. First, the speech. With everyone present and ready to work, including Amen, their differences are finally set aside and the speech begins to take form. Two hours of writing and reciting passes, and, finally, the speech is complete. And Amen did well to memorize it. "Whew, finally..." Amen slumps in his chair. "Thank you... everyone." While Amen still needs to deliver the speech, his council can at least spend the rest of the night enjoying the festivities or attend to their own personal work.

~Elsewhere~

On most days, the streets of Thebes at night tend to be a lively place but, on this particular night, everything is silent. The citizens have gathered to the palace to enjoy the festival welcoming their new pharaoh. Just what kind of a man is he, they must wonder. They always hold out hope for a pharaoh better than the last. But there are those who desire something different: a kingdom without a king. For subjugation will always result in tyranny. Because after all, a good king is a contradiction. So they gather, like locusts to a field. Forty men, clad in robes and white masks; each carrying a blade that thirsts for the blood of a pharaoh. One individual stands out from the crowd: a young man leans against the wall of a house. He seems engrossed in his thoughts. One of the masked men walks over to the young man to speak to him. "Can you 'see' our target?" He asks the young man.

The young man scoffs at the question. "Can I 'see' him? With this eye, I can see everything." One of the young man's eyes change into a bright gold color. "It's time we move out."

By the end of things, Nebet sighed, slumping in her seat in quite the unpriestly like fashion. This had definitely been a strain on both her nerves and sanity, even if they had managed to in the end get it done. Zamonth definitely wasn't helping things for the most part. There was time for decisive action of course, but then there was also the time for patience and restrained actions. There was also the matter of her heavily disagreeing about slavery in general, but that was another matter entirely. After all, there was an order to the world and slavery was just a natural course of events as far as she was concerned.

But what she wanted was irrelevant, though that was nothing particularly new, was it? At least this was over now and she could return to her prayer and study...or do go out for a bit of fun with the festivities.

"Yes, well...I do not think I will stick around for the speech." Nebet said, standing up. She wanted to take a walk through the streets far from the palace. Or at least, enjoy the festivities in an entirely different way. One she hadn't in a long while. "I will return to the temple, if you need me Pharoah Amen. I am rather...tired so I would appreciate no disturbances unless you absolutely have need of me - if you do ask the Head Priest to find me."

Nebet yawned again, making sure to grab her fan axe on the way out. Unless someone decided to stop her for some reason, she'd leave the room.

Zamonth took in a giant breath and exhaled loudly. "Phew. Finally." Standing from his seat and moving from the corner he had been in for the majority of the proceedings, Zamonth began stretching his arms; first with his arms bent and pulled behind his head, and then with one arm pulling the other across his chest. "Now that this is over with. Festivals mean fine cuisine, right?" Zamonth rubbed his hands together eagerly, his eyes gleaming like a hungry crocodile about to snap it's prey in two with its massive jaws. He then continued his stretch, twisting his body and legs in athletic gestures. "Now this place may be a dry well, sucked of its nutrients from the miserable people that live here, but I've yet to find a hellish place on this rock that hasn't had at least one good dish. One local delicacy."

Finishing his stretching now, Zamonth's eyes, still full of intent, turned and locked onto Qar.

"So, I have faith in my good Vizier that he will be able to show me to and around the food stands that have been presented in not only Pharaoh Amen's honor, but his respected and valuable ally Zamonth as well, right?" Though he was talking informally and about food, his expression did not change. He did not smile or hint that this was a making of friendship. Perhaps Zamonth had suspected Amen and Qar of their earlier escapades, or at the very least knew Qar had witnessed some kind of event occur that involved Amen. Of course Zamonth would want to know about anyone that threatened Amen, though not out of overprotection. He knew Amen could handle himself just fine against mostly anyone, especially some low life slavers. He wouldn't even care how Amen handled himself in combat if the opponents were so weak that he took them out in single blows. But if there was anyone left of those that attacked Amen here in Egypt, no matter if they were from the kingdom or not, he would make sure to obliterate their remaining members. Zamonth was not oblivious to all the snakes that would be slithering about, waiting to sink their venom into Amen as he slept.

On the other hand, Zamonth could just be hungry and see Qar as the easiest person to manipulate. After all, Vizier or not, he was still the healer and definitely not as aggressive as either Satiah or Nebet. "We don't have to start with anything in particular, I've got a pretty big appetite." And that would be evident to anyone who knew how much Zamonth had eaten just before the speech drafting had taken place.

The speech was now complete, a toil of hardship as long and arduous as any of Qar's travels. While he had input little original material, mostly offering amendments or trying to keep heads cool once they had actually started working, he felt somewhat invested in the speech's reception. All being said, however, he knew that he had some other duties to attend to that evening and had hoped to spend some time partaking in the festivities himself.

It was clear that the other Viziers were also keen to be away having spent such a long time sitting in the same chairs for hours, debating over the tiniest details and refining every aspect of the speech endlessly. This was not a matter of physical fitness, it was one of mental endurance and Qar was glad that he had been less involved than some of the others. Nebet, in particular, had been mostly charged with arguably the most complex and important section of the speech aimed at the nobility and calming their nerves. Understandably, she announced that she was leaving to rest, reminding Qar of something he had considered earlier in the day.

"Ah, Priestess Nebet, I've been meaning to make a request. There was a matter I was hoping to discuss with you but it is not of pressing importance. If it suits you, I hope you might come by my surgery in the morning. I was looking for some advice on a separate matter and was hoping you might impart some of your wisdom." In fact, Qar's mind was on two matters: that of the imprisoned slavers and the rumours that would seen be running through the city and that of the dual nature of many healers who administers both proven medicine and more superstitious remedies. In both regards he felt that the Priestess was the best one to approach, at least a first and preferably in private.

Zamonth then effectively announced that Qar would be giving him a guided tour of the festivities and the delicacies that would be available. While he was not opposed to the idea, Qar's mind was partly on the contents of his satchel. Before finding Amen earlier in the day he had found a brief moment to prepare a few remedies that had been requested of him and they needed to be delivered that evening, if possible. The physician doubted that Zamonth would deliberately make it difficult for him to drop of the medicines and so he conceded to the request.

"Of course. I remember seeing a few interesting stalls on my brief excursion earlier." He was dredging these up from his memory, having barely taken notice of his surroundings while searching for Amen earlier. A few stalls had looked to be worthy of note and the stalls offering food were likely to be grouped together. "There are a few stops I need to make as we go but they are not significant detours and should not delay us overly."

He motioned to the door and they left, Qar wondering what Zamonth's intentions were. He doubted the big man was just hungry and in need of guiding to the food stalls.

Sitting cross-legged and alone in a small corridor leading to a balcony overlooking the palace's main courtyard, Amen methodically breaths in and out while silently praying to Egypt's many gods. He often does so when he feels nervous, which is rare. However, public speaking isn't something he has much experience in nor is he comfortable with. But as the Pharaoh, he will be expected to address the citizens of his kingdom from time to time; it's best to get used to it now. He can hear the indistinct sea of voices emanating from outside. The people have waited long enough to meet their new Pharaoh. So, with all the courage he can muster, he stands up and walks out of the corridor and into the balcony. As he expected, his first sight is the massive crowd, probably numbering in the thousands and that's only the people that will fit into the equally massive palace courtyard.

Two servants standing near Amen blow their horns to quiet the crowd so that Amen may address the people. The silence is near immediate, catching Amen off guard a bit. But now is not the time to panic so Amen walks forward with scepter in hand. The Ankh scepter, which he received after he left the study, is part of Thutmose's royal arms collection which Amen has now inherited. "Citizens of the city and kingdom of Thebes! My name is Amenhotep, son of the Pharaoh Thutmose, and your new Pharaoh! By the divine blessings of the god Amun and all the gods that watches over the vast lands of Egypt, I, Pharaoh Amenhotep, pledge to you all a just and honorable rule like my father before me and his father before him! For this is our empire of the sun, and I will ensure our sun burns brighter than ever before!" So far, they seem to be responding well to his speech. Amen continues and goes into detail about his vision for the kingdom, at least the one written by his Viziers.

The speech is masterfully crafted to simultaneously appease both the nobles and the common man. Fortunately, it manages to satiate those who are listening. By the end of the speech, the people in the courtyard responds will applause and cheer, wishing the Pharaoh a long and prosperous reign. Amen retreats back into the corridor and exhales a big sigh of relief. It's finally over. But he has no time for rest as he sees Iaret approaching him. After a short exchange, the two move to a more private area to speak. "You want me to visit the necropolis?" Amen questions.

"Yes, to pay your respects to the late Pharaoh Thutmose. It's only natural considering he is your father and, plus, it brings favor from the gods to pay tribute to the dead."

"So his body has been entombed already..."

"Well, no. His body has been delivered to its final resting place in the Valley of Kings. The tomb that is here in Thebes is merely a symbolic representation, but an important one. And as such, it is your duty to pay your respects to him. Please, Pharaoh Amen, come with me." Amen doesn't like the idea of paying his respect to Thutmose but he feels oddly compelled to listen to Iaret's wishes. She's sort of... frightening in a sense. He doesn't put any more thought into it and simply follows her around the palace. Some time later, they arrived at a temple: the same one Nebet works as a priestess for. As they enter, they see many priestesses going about their business; most are even dressed the same as Nebet. "I've other matters to attend to but I'll leave you in the care of Vizier Nebet." On their way to Nebet, Amen decides to ask Iaret a personal question, one that a lady should never be asked.

"Hey, Iaret, exactly how old are you? I mean, you're pretty young looking to have been Pharaoh Thutmose's wife."

"Hmm? Pharaoh Amen, don't you know that is not a proper question to ask a lady?"

"Uh, oh... Sorry..."

Iaret lightly chuckles. "But to answer your inquiry, I am forty-five years old."

Huh? Did Amen hear that right? "How many virgins did you sacrifice for your youthful looks?" Amen asks bluntly.

"What was that?" Iaret asks, not hearing his response.

"Uhh, never mind."

It doesn't take too much longer before the two of them find Nebet near a sacred altar of Anubis, god of the underworld who judges the souls of the dead. "Vizier Nebet. Sorry to interrupt your evening but I've another task for you. As you know, the necropolis that lies underneath the temple is essentially a giant maze. One who hasn't spent years learning of its intricacies would surely become lost. Pharaoh Amen must pay his respects to the late Pharaoh Thutmose so I'll need you to guide him to the ceremonial tomb and back. My apologies for not giving advanced notice, but tomorrow has become an unexpectedly busy day for the Pharaoh when he addresses the council of palace officials. And as this is a matter of the utmost spiritual importance, it can't be delayed for too long. So, with that, I'll leave you two to it." Iaret leaves immediately after. She seems to be in a hurry somewhere. Well, she seems to always be in a hurry somewhere.

"Sorry about all of this. Rest assured, I won't be taking too much of your time." Amen tells Nebet. After all, he really has no intention of properly paying his respects to Thutmose.

After leaving the study, Nebet made her way straight to the temple. Since they had no need to discuss anything further with the other viziers, she had no desire to converse with them nor stay for the speech. She had other things to do, rather, other things she wanted to do. She should go tend to the dead, really, that was her duties after all but after today...well, it had been stressful and it was one of the rare times she thought about something other than work or law. She wanted to go enjoy the festivities, at least a little. Unfortunately, it seemed like that wasn't going to happen. As she returned to the temple, she was greeted by the head priest. Apparently, one of the initiates accidentally managed to spill dye all over the floor in front of the sacred altar. The initiate of which, had managed to somehow slip out for the night. He would be reprimanded heavily tomorrow, but it needed to be cleaned now.

Well, she was never one to shirk work where she could have.

With a sigh, she set about cleaning the floor. Thankfully it wouldn't cause any permanent damage and nothing bad would likely come of it. By the time Iaret and Amen had arrived, Nebet had finished cleaning and had taken to kneeling in front of the altar in calming prayer, having decided against venturing out into the festivities for now. After all, she could do that at any time, really and tonight was one where she should be ready in case the Pharoah had need of her. Something about tonight simply made her feel uneasy, even if the speech was likely going to go over well. Perhaps she was just being paranoid, though...

As she heard her name called by Iaret, Nebet opened her eyes and turned her head towards the woman, a small frown making her slight displeasure at this turn of events obvious. She was to accompany Amen to pay respects to Thutmose? Well, she was certainly the woman for the job. She knew the winding passages better than anyone, as well as the way to his tomb. She hadn't worked on the embalming of the late pharaoh, but she had made visits to the necropolis at times. Something about being down there always seemed to be oddly relaxing to her.

"It is quite alright, Iaret," Nebet sighed, standing. "You are quite correct. It would be ill advised of me to disagree with you about this." Iaret left quickly before she could say much else though. She may not have been rude, but always being in a hurry somewhere made her a tad bit suspicious...she really was being paranoid, wasn't she? Ah, she really wanted to be anywhere but here right now. This whole Vizier thing was not for her at all. She'd rather be drowning in alcohol or embalming the dead. Possibly both, if she could do it. That said...she raised an eyebrow at Amen's statement.

"My time is irrelevant. It belongs to you, Pharoah Amen. If you have need of me then it matters little what my own plans are." She retrieved her weapon from the altar, upon which it rested. "I am here to serve and advise, and help with spiritual and matters of the law. Iaret is quite correct in stating that this matter is quite important...so if you would follow me, Pharoah Amen." She motioned for the Pharoah to follow her. The entrance to the necropolis should not be all that far away from here.

"Thank you, Vizier." The woman scuttled off, clutching a small herb pouch to her chest as if it were the most precious item she possessed. It might well have been, for all Qar knew; slaves were not in a position to own things. The slave's son had grown ill, probably from drinking some dirty water in the slave quarters; often the young were more likely to succumb to such thing as they had yet to build up a resistance to the illness that resided in the water. Qar sighed, happy to have finished his rounds but concerned at the nature of the illnesses he was treating lately; by and large they were common conditions generally caused by terrible, dirty living conditions or the intake of poisoned or dirty water. In many ways it was safer to drink wine despite the obvious dangers of excessive consumption of the beverage, at least one would be less likely to contract a disease from it.

"Thank you for your patience, Zamonth. I've finished my rounds now." Qar thanked the large man, pointing with his staff down a path to another part of the city. "Come, I saw some food stalls in this direction on my earlier foray into the city which looked quite promising." He headed off in that direction and perused a few options from a distance before choosing one emitting a particular appetising aroma. When the stallholder spotted them he made every effort to serve them quickly, presumably having noticed Qar's elaborately carved staff and heard something of the Vizier physician and the small sign of his station that he carried everywhere.

As their food arrived, Qar took a small drink from a stoneware cup filled with wine. It did not taste too strongly but he would be unlikely to drink more than one cup; there was something that kept him from relaxing and it wasn't the presence of the hulking foreigner currently sitting opposite him. It was a base instinct that was warning him to remain alert and Qar, an amateur in the realm of politics, was paranoid about something occurring on the first day of Amen's reign. To distract himself he tried to make conversation with Zamonth, keen to hear of the man's experiences elsewhere in the world.

"So Zamonth, you must have travelled far and wide and seen many different countries and cultures to have come here. I'm curious, if you're willing could you tell me of some of these places? I hear nothing but wild imaginings and tall tales from merchants and I'd rather hear the reality from a man who has seen such things with his own eyes."

Zamonth offered no objection to Qar's additional stops. "Well, let's get on with it then." He followed Qar out the room and around the village as he made his deliveries. On the last stop, he listened intently as the woman and Qar exchanged words. From what the woman described, he knew instantly what was wrong with the boy. He had witnessed sickness from water poisoning on several occasions. Back on his island, when the lost foolishly drank still water, and in the slums of cities as well. But, there was no reason for people so near the palace to be drinking water in such conditions. There was enough water to at least survive, but the palace was not distributing water evenly. No, they needed more water for their baths and their dry lips, beaten from the sun and sandy air. Whereas the poor and slaves had to savor every drop and risk their health by drinking from filthy pools of water.

Qar going out of his way to help the village people was a good display of character for Zamonth. Given the position he had now, the village was no longer his primary responsibility. But he continued to help others out of his own desire, an ambition to help others. It would seem as if he had no ill intention for Amen and would not be a bad person to have around. Unless he was simply playing a role. As Qar thanked Zamonth, he simply shrugged carelessly.


"Don't worry about it. Let's just get something to eat."

Zamonth had taken several large stone cups of wine to go along with his food, and they were now lined up neatly before his plate. Before enjoying his food, he eagerly took one of the cups and enjoyed a few rather large sips of the wine. It was not very strong, but it would be enough to ease him from the day he had. Hearing Qar speak, he placed his cup down and watched him with a curious look on his face.

"I have traveled quite a bit. And I could tell you about a few different places, but . . . Honestly, I might as well tell you about most brutal of them all. Wild imaginings and tall tales? That is what most of the stories you hear are. There is a place however, North of Egypt and out in the middle of the ocean. An island where monsters really do exist. I mean, monsters exist everywhere. But on this island monsters are normal. In the warm waters around the island, agile and powerful beasts lurk, devouring local prey and waiting for the opportunity to snatch any weary swimmers. Go out even deeper into the cold deep blue and you'll find creatures so large that they could swallow an entire ship. That is what our coast is like!" He chuckled as his eyes drifted, his mind obviously recalling the image of a large sea beast.


"Then you get to our jungles, oh and not to mention the people. Actually, before I continue though." Zamonth's piercing eyes came back to Qar. "I wanted to ask you. Why the sudden change of opinion in Amen? Before it was obvious that you all looked at him as just another kid, a failure waiting to happen. And I'm sure you still have that as an option in your mind. But when you came back you looked at him differently. And if I'm not mistaken, you were trying to avoid breaking the straw on the camel's back, the back of the Dreaded Demon Goddess of the Crypt!" Zamonth's gaze was now bearing down on Qar with a new kind of intimidating aura; not one fueled by physical dominance, but instead a burning desire to gain what one was seeking through any means. And right now Zamonth was seeking a very honest answer from Qar, who would be very near someone he cared about. A dishonest or simply the wrong answer would surely trigger a strong dislike from Zamonth.

For such a serendipitous turn of events, Satiah was feeling quite drained. The actual construction of the speech had proceeded relatively without incident after Amen had returned. Which was good, because the tedium was getting to her; indeed, all the discourse and statecraft made Satiah quite dazed by the end of the conference, regardless of how much the content - which itself had a clear right answer that most, for some tragic reason, were too unwilling to call an acceptable measure - had appealed to her sensibilities. But at least a great deal of good was to come from this; they even had a plan to put in place.

Determining that she needed to get out of the stuffy study before her brain began to melt, Satiah left without much fanfare, disappearing from the scene in that shadowy way only a servant could. At the time, the woman had nothing in mind to fill her time. She was not hungry enough to join the men’s feast nor was she particularly willing to involve herself in the frivolous festivities, which themselves tended to be rather unsatisfying without any company.

So Satiah would simply wander the palace, contributing unobtrusively to the work of the palace servants. Fine-tuning and organizational busywork, mostly, until the trumpeting fanfare signalled the start of the speech. While she already knew what was to be said, Satiah hadn’t been doing much else and decided that she may as well watch. Maybe some assailant would take the opportunity to strike at that period - quite unlikely, given the retinue of royal guards arrayed there, but still a possibility.

And so, away from the convocation, the robed attendant watched, listened, and ultimate stopped paying attention. By the final stretch, all she really heard or saw was the murmuring of the crowd and strange patterns in people’s clothes, the curvature of the architecture, and other trivial intricacies of design. “...Eh? Huh, it’s over,” the vizier said after having been torn from her dreamlike state by the thunderous cheering around her.

Following the flowing flock into the festival grounds, Satiah found herself walking around the streets of Thebes, surrounded by people but still alone. At this point in time, she’d gotten hungry enough to acquire food from the festival vendors, satiating her growing hunger and no more than that. A few times she’d gathered glimpses of Qar and Zamonth - their figures quite distinct within the crowd - but hadn’t gone out of her way to address them as she followed the crowd aimlessly.

Qar listened to Zamonth's words with interest. The scholar within him could not help but smile at the tall tale of monsters, small and giant, that the foreigner weaved for him. True, Qar had heard similar stories and had not visited such places himself so he was in no position to be so cynical but he somehow doubted the scale of the tales. Instead, he took a sip of his drink and considered whether he would ever have a chance to visit such a place of mystery; surely those who lived in such a challenging environment would have knowledge and skills far above anything their kingdom had managed?

Then Zamonth suddenly changed the subject, his gaze now focused upon Qar and searching for any strange reaction to his question. It might have been intimidating had Qar felt he had anything to hide from the warrior, but he did not. Indeed, there was no need to hide anything about the Pharaoh from the only companion he had trusted enough to bring with him to Thebes, unless the Pharaoh himself requested it. Thus, Qar searched around them for anyone furtively listening and then leaned in so that he could speak without his voice carrying to anyone nearby. A needless precaution as most had had the sense to sit further away from the Vizier and the giant foreign warrior.

"To be truthful, he was not as I had expected. I had been told that he would be young but it is clear he and I had very different childhoods and that, perhaps reflects in our personalities. Mine was one of relative safety in a scholarly setting, the Pharaoh's... from what I gather it was less than gentle." Qar frowned, thinking of what little he actually knew about Amen. They had spoken briefly when the physician had gone to find the young Pharaoh but aside from that they had exchanged little in the way of meaningful conversation. "We spoke a little after he left the study. For the first time I got to see a little of who he was. He was honest and spoke of his uncertainty."

Qar leaned back a little, looking up at the darkening sky and remembering how easily he had opened up to the young man. Usually, he was a fairly closed book who dealt with the ailments both physical and mental of others; there was little time to speak of his own troubles and worries and yet he had to the Pharaoh.

"I came to see a little of how he may be different to previous Pharaohs and how that could be shaped into greatness, if he had the drive to do so. And then," he hesitated but decided that Zamonth would surely only approve of the Pharaoh's actions and Amen would not mind Qar revealing the truth, "I saw him attack a group of slavers. One might call it impetuous but perhaps righteous is a better word for it. He had the courage to stand up against generations of inequality and I saw the purpose fill him, something he wanted to do as a Pharaoh and he will have the strength and will to do it, I am sure." He smiled wanly, a slight sadness in his eyes.

"I am not a leader, Zamonth. I lack the charisma, the words and the vision to command others. Neither am I merely a follower for I have a mind of my own which innately questions what I have been told. The way Pharaoh Amen cuts through to the heart of matters, ignoring the frail arguments old men might throw at him, is something that I can respect and I wish to support him in seeing that vision out. As I do so, I can use my position to chase the little ambition I have, as a physician. As for why I interceded in the meeting... I did not want another obstacle in our path. I will discuss the matter with the Priestess later but it can wait. For now we eat and we drink." He raised his cup and downed it before calling for another, he was already several behind Zamonth and felt no ambition to try and out drink the much larger man. That being said, this was surely a time for celebration.

Amen quietly follows Nebet as she leads him through the intricate underground maze that is Thebes' necropolis. Conceived and built during the reign of Thutmose's father, this labyrinth spans nearly half the length of the city and is safeguarded by magic and traps only recognizable by a trusted circle of priests—Nebet being one of them. Illusory walls and false paths have led to the capture or demise of many a grave robber. The necropolis is also divided into different sections, namely for the distinction between the common folk and those of nobility. The departed nobles tend to have chambers for themselves which houses their valuables and mummified pets. Mummification of the departed is either for the very wealthy or those of unique distinction like queens and important palace officials. Embalming the dead is a labored process and can almost be consider an art form in some ways. Perhaps Nebet would agree.

After a good twenty minutes or so, Nebet informs Amen that they have arrived at Thutmose's burial chamber, and an impressive chamber it is with numerous valuables placed about. The sarcophagus itself at the center of the chamber is of brass and gold adorned with various jewel inlays. Such an expensive piece wasted on a place like this. After all, it's not as if Thutmose is using it. His body is at the Valley of Kings with the rest of the departed pharaohs throughout Egyptian history. Surrounding the elaborate coffin are jars with cat heads and falcon heads—ones typically designed to preserve the organs of the deceased but are here simply for ceremony. At at the very back of the chamber is statue of the sun composed entirely of pure gold. Symbiotically, it watches over the dead for all of eternity, functioning as a light to guide the spirit pass Anubis' trial to the sea of life and the Elysian Fields.

The sun is the utmost important symbol of Thebes and is a major component of every culture within every kingdom of Egypt. Thebes is, after all, described by many as the "Empire of the Sun" and recognizes the god Ra as the most important deity. "I'll only be a few minutes." Amen tells Nebet before he enters the chamber and approaches the sarcophagus. What is he supposed to do exactly? Consult the late pharaoh? Amen looks down at the sarcophagus with a halfhearted smile. "You couldn't let me have my revenge, could you? Dying before I could confront you. And then you make me a pharaoh? Is this some kind of sick joke? Damn you..." Amen's halfhearted smile turns to gritted teeth and he balls his hands into fists. "You have no right to ask this of me. Not after what you did to me and my mother." Amen sighs and relaxes himself. "But... I'll do it. I'll be Thebes' pharaoh. And I'll become a better one than you, that's for sure. So, keep watching. After all, you're everywhere now right? You're part of the same sea that flows all around."

A few minutes later, Amen exits the chamber and rejoins Nebet. "I've said what I came to say. Let's head back." On the way back, Amen pays close attention to Nebet. Out of his council, she is the most reserved. She doesn't wear her heart on her sleeve like Zamonth and Satiah. She isn't as earnest as Qar nor blatantly scheming as Aperel. When she talks, she sounds like she's speaking her mind but there is a degree of authenticity that is lacking. But perhaps Amen is overthinking things. They've just met so Nebet isn't going to show her true nature so soon. Sill... "Hey Nebet, I hope you know that you can speak freely around me. Just because I'm the Pharaoh, it doesn't mean that you have to dance around any words. Just tell me like it is." Amen tells her.

As soon as the pair exit the necropolis, a knife comes flying pass Amen, cutting just the skin of his cheek and drawing a bit of blood. "What the-"

"I missed. I don't usually miss." A voice emanates from a shadowy part of the hall.

"Who's there?!" Amen shouts out. Then he notices the bodies of priests and priestesses strewn about.

"Wipe the shock from your face, they aren't dead. Simply unconscious on account of the spell that was placed on them. Interestingly enough, it seems you two aren't affected. Ahh, I see it. The essence that flows around you. It's warding off the spell of its own accord. Only those with an affinity for essence has had this happened. It matters little in the end. This'll only be a bit messier than I had intended." A figure leaps from behind a pillar with blazing speed and attempts to attack Amen. However, Amen takes his scepter and swipes it horizontally, creating a strong gust of wind that knocks the figure back. He lands onto one knee and looks at Amen and Nebet. One of his eyes glow a golden color. "A Magician? How bothersome..." The assailant seems displeased.

"What? You thought you could kill me so easily? I'm offended by the mere thought. In fact, it's quite the opposite. Fitting that a necropolis is right here cause I might just send you to an early grave." Amen smiles confidently.

The assailant's eyes widened. You!"

"Heh, know who I am, do you? That's right, I'm the great and powerful Amenho-"

"Lady Nebet!"

"Eh?"

The assailant removes the veil that covers his face to show Nebet who he is. "It's me, Yunre! After all this time... I never thought I'd see you alive again."

"Hey, you just tried to kill me! The least you can do is not ignore me!"

"It's no wonder that the essence that surrounds you look so familiar. My Eye of Horus doesn't show me false things. Besides, I could never forget the essence of the woman that saved my life." An eerie smile creeps across Yunre's face as his golden eye shines even more brilliantly.

~Elsewhere~

While Satiah wanders the street by her lonesome, Zamonth and Qar are nearby enjoying some food and a conversation. But the festivities are soon to end as an injured guard struggled his way to Satiah. Meanwhile, a food vendor approaches Zamonth and Qar. He begins asking them if they're enjoying their meal. "S-Satiah!" The injured guard musters the last of his strength to call out Satiah's name before he collapses onto the dirt floor. The citizens in the area scatter to the side as he falls dead. Zamonth and Qar would probably take notice of the event as well. A deep stab wound is present on the guard's back. Satiah would most likely recognize him as part of a patrol group doing their rounds across the city tonight. With Zamonth and Qar distracted for a brief moment, the food vendor that approached them unsheathes a blade and attempts to strike Zamonth from behind. In the distance, masked individuals begin to appear amongst the crowd.

Zamonth

Shortly after Qar began to answer Zamonth's question, he resumed drinking his wine. He appreciated that Qar did not mince his words or shy back from his doubts in Amen. Seeing Aperel and others grovel around Amen's status was sickening. If they respected him for what he had actually displayed, he may see things differently. But they knew nothing of Amen and likely thought very lowly of him. All they did was for the advancement of themselves, not the people. He knew there would be many with similar intentions to come, many to keep him busy with. Qar on the other hand, was actually seeing Amen and desiring to fulfill his role, to help Amen be a good ruler.

Zamonth simply chuckled when Qar mentioned the incident with the slave traders. "Is that so?" This came as no surprise to him. "I told you guys. Amen is not going to be like any Pharaoh you had before. That may cause him a lot of trouble down the line . . . but it's not like his life was easy to begin with. Despite being of royal blood, he's a person like anyone else. And the life he's lived has left more for him to deal with than any kid ever should have to." Though Amen was Pharaoh and his Viziers were to help him accomplish his goals, Zamonth found it interesting that Qar actually believed slavery could be abolished and was actually willing to do so. Surely his job would be easier without it, and everyone here seemed desensitized to slavery.

When Qar raised his cup, the corner of Zamonth's lips curled into a barely noticable grin for the first time. He joined Qar and quickly downed his sixth serving of wine. Though Zamonth was assertive and would do whatever he needed to get what he wanted, he could relate to Qar's comments on leadership.

"We're not all meant to stand before a crowd and look good. Some of us need to hang behind, make decisions and give advice without being seen. And then, some of us need to be courageous and brutal; be rough and look dirty." Shrugging, Zamonth started on his seventh drink of wine. "I obviously don't care if you tell the Crypt Keeper or not. There will be much more to deal with in our time together. But as you said, for now, we eat and drink." Setting down his now half full cup, Zamonth grabs a large fruit slice and brings it close to his lips. Before he can take a bite however, there is a bright purple flash behind him and the sound of metal pieces hitting the floor. Zamonth's expression immediately changed from extremely content to one more calm and yet oddly forbearing. His eyes became frigid, sending invisible waves out that would chill any who caught a glimpse.

"Surely you must have a death wish."

The moment Zamonth finished his sentence, his body rose without warning-sending his chair flailing to the side as he whirled around and swung his right arm in a large arc that ended with his fist smashing straight into the face of the server behind him. In what would seem like a flash to everyone else around, the server was launched back with incredible force as blood sprayed in all directions. The server's limp body flew through the air, several meters before crashing into a group of barrels that fell over as easily as a bundle of hay. Zamonth did not even bother walking over to him.

Anyone with a skillful eye would notice that as the dagger approached Zamonth it entered the range of his essence, which was already active in shielding his body and detecting incoming damage from the start, in fact, had been the entire time Zamonth was feasting. The moment the dagger approached his skin Zamonth was alerted and his essence increased even further, destroying the simple weapon with ease before it even had the opportunity to graze him. They would also have noticed that the server who had attacked Zamonth was hit by a powerful blow, one infused with so much essence that it was equivalent to being hit by a horse galloping at full speed. His face was crushed instantly, nose caving in while his eyes were rendered useless even should he had survived. The punch was so hard the server's neck had also snapped, and his skull suffered so much damage that his head was now misshapen. A close enough view would confirm to anyone that the man was without a doubt lifeless. Zamonth was born in a very different world; there was never time to lower one's guard in such an open space. Especially not when eating.

Everything was happening at once and Qar, for one, was glad he had only drunk two cups of wine and that it was relatively weak stuff in the first place. His wits remained sharp and he was on his feet, staff in hand as Zamonth exacted immediate retribution upon the disguised attendant. Seeing the blow, and the effect, Qar knew the man would be dead. He had seen the way Zamonth's expression had changed; he bore the look of a man on the battlefield and in so in his element, mixed with anger at being attacked in the middle of enjoying himself.

What had drawn his attention, before the server had attacked them, were the sounds of shock and horror from the crowd a little way off. Calling to Zamonth to let the man know where he was going, Qar dashed off through the crowd to find the guard lying on the floor, a deep stab wound on his back. Vizier Satiah stood over him, apparently the man had been trying to find her, one final duty, before falling. Kneeling down, Qar checked for breathing and felt the man's throat but his skin was quickly cooling and there was no discernible pulse of blood through his jugular.

"He's gone." Qar closed the man's glazed eyes before standing, looking over the heads of the crowd to where multiple masked figures were emerging. They were clearly not performers, the masks were too uniform for that and the knives they were carrying cleared up any confusion about their purpose; they were after the Viziers. That meant Nebet and possibly Aperel were in danger, depending on who was directing the masked attackers. Perhaps even the Pharaoh was a target.

"Do you know where the Priestess is? And the Pharaoh? They may well be targets themselves." He didn't have time to speak further as a masked assailant, having merged into the crowd ahead of the rest of the group, darted out at him with knife at the read. Qar blocked the attack, turning the blade aside and then twisting the bottom of the staff up to crack against the assailant's chin. The attacker stepped back, letting the blow roll off of their mask with little force before closing in on Qar again.

They aren't going to go down as easy as those slavers, are they?

Qar grimaced, reluctantly coming to the conclusion that he would need to exercise some magic on this particular battlefield. With Zamonth and Satiah here he wouldn't need to reveal all of his spells, besides which Star Fall would catch civilians in its blast radius so he would avoid using it all costs. Resorting to the only option suitable, he lowered his staff slightly.

"Burden of Knowledge." The assailant wavered a moment, worried that Qar was casting some magical attack, but nothing discernible happened and so he approached with the blade singing through the air again. Once again the physician turned the blade aside with the staff and then kicked the man's leg on its instep. The blow, although relatively light, had the weight of his magic behind and snapped the bone clean in half. Crying in surprise, the assailant fell forwards on his shattered leg and Qar's staff came down again, this time heavily landing on the man's head. The reinforced wood shattered through the mask and then through the man's skull, ending his life instantly in a bloody mess.

Turning to the others, Qar raised his bloodied staff and stepped away from the corpse, its head cracked open like an eggshell and their face no longer recognisable as human. The physician shrugged the upper half of his robe free, letting it fall down so that he could move his arms freely and without restraint; in this fight a mistake would cost him his life and he didn't want that to happen so early in the Pharaoh's reign.

"I better leave the bulk of the fighting to you two, I'm more useful as support. That is, unless one of you thinks it better to head to the Pharaoh's location. If that's the case then one of you should go and I'll remain with the other."

“Hm?”

The sudden murmuring of the people behind her and the sound of stumbling, erratic shuffling of sandals upon sandstone caught the handmaiden’s air. Satiah turned her body to face the source of the commotion, catching sight of the hobbling soldier. She raised an eyebrow, recognizing the man from his voice and appearance, “...Bak, are you drunk?”

Her eyes widened the moment he slumped over dead, blood starting to pool from a grievous wound in his back. From a dagger, by the looks of it. She frowned and knelt alongside Qar, who had arrived when the commotion had built up and was currently giving his adjudication. As much as she'd have willed it not to be, his death was final. “Rest in peace,” she said, rolling him on his back and swiping his eyes shut.

Then she stood, and at the moment, it was as if Satiah’s perception of the world had refined itself into a needle point. Information from her senses was rapidly acquired and demarcated into a binary assessment of usefulness. The sight of bone white masks among the sea of civilians, the flash of their blades in the sun, the presence of allied forces. Lines of attack and defense began delineating themselves within her mind’s eye.

“Nebet's in the temple. Amen's unknown.” A quick, composed response to Qar’s worried query, then a quick sidestep to avoid the first assailant, whom Qar had swiftly dealt with using his magery. “Both are likely to be surrounded by defenders. Amen can handle himself and likely has the most back up, Nebet is in the seat of her god’s power. They’ll be fine, unless they've sent a legion to overwhelm palace and temple attendants, but I'm sure they didn't. Too obvious. We should deal with our problems, first. They might hurt the innocents, otherwise.” Satiah’s robes shuffled as she parted her feet, lowering her center of gravity in preparation for the wave of opponents. “Zamonth, I’ll take this side,” she announced, moving away from the two and towards the crowd. “Oh, and try to take at least one alive!” she commanded, steadying her breath as the second wave of assailants broke from the sea of people.

The assailant launched himself forward with a lunge aimed for her core vitals. Behind the figure, four others made up this side’s portion of the wave, each readying their weapons and assuming complimentary stances. The moment was suspended in her mind. In an instant, cold lines of probability coalesced into vectors of movement, counters, stances, applications of force - she knew what she had to do.

’Avoid strike.’ Satiah lunged left, allowing the blade to pass through her robes with an audible tear, leaving a hole through which the enemy’s body began to pass. ’Envelope target.’ Throwing her arm over and forward and then hooking back, she converted that hole into a lasso - or noose. ’Disable first, counter second. Satiah pivoted on her front foot and guided her constricted opponent, still struggling to escape the all-encompassing fabric, by the back and into the path of his ally’s blades. ’Exert force.’ Raw essence flowed through her body and another palm strike snapped the first’s spine, ruptured an organ or two, and sent him and his partner flying into a nearby wall, her torn right sleeve falling gracefully after them and a smear of blood along the wall at the point of impact

Two dead. One incapacitated, or dead. Three approaching from separate angles - a triplicate pincer strike.

Satiah grinned like a feral beast. She kicked the dagger at her feet into her hand. A poor day to have not brought a bow along, but then again, armed with such a thing she would have made short work of these assassins. But that is life.

’Gather enemies.’ She darted backwards as they converged upon her position. ’Distract leader.’ She tilted the blade, reflecting the harsh desert sun directly into the eye holes of first charging assassin, staggering him. ’Target vulnerability.’ She launched the dagger into the stunned opponent’s collar. ’Use disarray to cut distance.’ Cutting the distance in an instant with an essence-fueled dash. ’Retrieve weapon.’ She tore her knife from the blinded assassin’s torso, creating an arc of spatter along the ground as she pivoted to the backs of the remaining two. The count was three dead, one maybe incapacitated, and two flatfooted trying to face their enemy. Unfortunately for them, the woman with the torn robe wasn’t to be seen standing above the corpse of their ally.

’Exploit blindspot.’

From above came the sound of fluttering cloth and howling iron. Too late was the one to the left to react, as the dagger carved through his comrade’s mask, leaving the woman in black crouching over the body like a lion. Seizing the opportunity, the assassin began to lash out with frenetic strikes.

’Avoid assault.’ Satiah rolled off of the corpse, distancing herself from the harshly angled thrusts and slashes. No longer following a well-organized rush or a coordinated skirmishing charge, this was a fully-committed assault - fast enough to pin her down, but following a rhythm of her own. ’Sweep.’ Her foot lashed out with a wide scything arc, one which was easily avoided. Fortunately, the backstep granted Satiah enough time to get to her feet, her hands were clenched in fists. ’Distract.’ She cast dust into the assassin’s mask. ’Parry blind strike.’ Pushing the arm aside with economical force, she stepped into his guard. ’Cross, with essence.’ And with the cathartic impact of her fist splintering matter, the masked assassin fell.

“Everyone alright?” she called out, taking the opportunity this pause in action granted to cast aside her torn robes. More glimmering blades, more masks in the crowd. What kind of crazy guy sends a platoon to kill five people?