I rub my head and disappear into my chamber to get ready for my very long day.

The morning sun shines down on the city. Alexandria is already awake and alive with movement. Xarion climbs out of the barge first and extends his hand. I take it, remembering the feel of his soft skin on my thigh. A wave of heat washes over me.

Pulling my hand from his, I say, “Have you made an attempt to speak to Fadil?”

“No. He’s been in meditation. Though he did present a request to the Council to have all likenesses of Serapis removed from the Serapeum until the war ends.” He squints as he looks over the palace district. “He’s a fool. I don’t fear the Leymak invading, if only because Octavian wants me to come to him before he’ll order an attack on Alexandria. He wants me to openly admit that Caesar is not my father so he can rebuke me publically for my mother’s lie. A waste of time that’d be anyway. He’s only the adopted son, and has no real claim to the throne. Although, Rome will accept him before they accept me.”

I touch his sun-warmed shoulder, my chest heavy for his burden. “You are Caesar’s son, Xarion. Octavian is only jealous—he has no blood ties. All this will be settled when the queen defeats him and brings home the victory.”

He nods. “She will, and then my true battle will begin.” I squint, and he laughs. “Oh, Mother is never defeated, be assured. I’m in for it when she returns with whoever she has in mind for me to marry. That is the battle I’m dreading.” He grasps my hand before taking off toward the Library. “Come.”

As we pass under the striped awning, scribes bow to Xarion and offer to wash his feet with rose-perfumed water.

He waves them off, and we continue through the lotus columns that reach past the entrance. Scholars dip their heads to the pharaoh, and he acknowledges them. I blink, my eyes slowly adjusting to the dim lighting after being in the bright Alexandrian sun.

The scent of papyrus fills the airless entryway, the smell of ancient and recently created documents—musty and new. The smell of the Library. Oil lamps hang from the tall ceiling, their firelight spilling over the floor. Voices echo against the stone walls; lectures being taught. Clanking and grinding, the sound of automata, bounces from the far rooms where the scientists work with the Narcos’ Flame to build steam-powered devices.

We make our way to the rows of stacked scrolls that cover every inch of the Great Library. Every tome, every codex in the known world is here. There is not a vessel that docks in the harbor that goes unsearched by the scholars. Every written word is handed over and made into a copy before returned.

Once we reach the Egyptian scrolls, Xarion chooses a desk in the corner where we can work undisturbed. “Start in the sorcerers’ tomes, and I’ll work my way through the pharaohs’ diaries.”

We both wash our hands and towel them off, so that the oils from our skin will affect the papyrus as little as possible. I take down five scrolls and one large tome, then anchor the first scroll with weights against the desk, preventing the corners from curling in as I read.

For hours I pour over old texts, hunting the ancient ways of the sorcerers. I dig deeper than the common knowledge of how Pharaoh Ahmose I ordered the creation of the first Kythan, and come to a section that describes in detail his bidding for the sorcerers to construct a powerful army to rival his enemies, the Hyksos.

Considered invaders, the Hyksos ruled over Lower Egypt, but were not supported by the majority of the people, even after they took Set as their praised deity. Having learned this much as a child, I gloss over the details of their reign, and finally find what I’m seeking.

Five of the most powerful sorcerers gathered around a sacred amulet to perform a creation ritual of the gods. Amun-Ra—self-created, and thought to be the creator of other gods—held the power of creation in his hand: his was scepter.

I’ve seen its likeness many times, as the Kythan are likened to Set. The head of the Set animal tops a long staff with a forked tail at its base. But how the sorcerers came to possess the was scepter, I can’t fathom. I read on, immersed.

The sorcerers performed the ritual on Egyptian rebels of the war, infusing their bodies with the Ka of Set; his essence. For days, the prisoners suffered, enduring constant pain throughout their first shift, madness at having their Ren—identities—stripped away, and in severe cases, death. Not only a physical death, but once the shift took effect, the Akh died a permanent death, never reaching the underworld; never being able to reconnect with its Ba and Ka.

Bowing my head, I push back from the tome, my heart heavy. I can’t imagine anyone enduring that. Not even my enemies. Though our first shift—our Change—is similar to this account, it’s not as extreme. I underwent headaches, sweating, body aches, fierce nightmares, and then my power came. After I shifted the first time, I never again suffered any discomfort. But now I wonder if the pain we endure during our Change is linked to the first shift of these ancient people, like a terrible, haunting echo.

And though I’m a slave, I will still have the proper funeral rites performed over me so that I may enter the afterlife. My Ka and Ba will again meet with my Akh in the underworld. I will not die a final death. I will not roam the world an Akh; a wraith.

These people were thoroughly removed—wiped from the history of the world—in order to make way for new life. The Kythan.

Forcing myself to continue, I begin again. Once the first Kythan transformation was complete, the strongest army ever known to man was commanded into Lower Egypt to expel the Hyksos. I envision the Set-worshiping Hyksos spying numerous recreations of their beloved god descending upon them. What must they have thought? That they had wronged Set in some way? Though it’s warped, the military-trained side of me can appreciate the genius of this tactic. Using the likeness of a most adored god to wreak havoc on one’s enemies.

After the Hyksos were defeated, Egypt and all of the pharaohs to follow praised the Kythan. Set became one of the most honored gods until the Persian overthrow that led to his demoralization, and thereafter, the Kythan’s . . . where we became nothing but slaves to the pharaohs. All of Egypt cursed the god of foreigners. And that is our history.

From greatness to slavery.

Pushing haunting thoughts of my ancestry away, I conduct a search of all recovered artifacts of Set, and come across a history where I lose myself in research.

“My eyes feel like they’re going to weep blood,” Xarion whispers. My head snaps up as he settles on the stool beside me. “Have you found anything—anything that would explain how Octavian accomplished this?”

He rubs his thumb down the crease between my eyes, and I sigh, batting his hand away. He laughs. “There was some artifact, a macehead that was recovered centuries ago that depicts Set,” I begin, purposely omitting the cruel details of our making, and giving him the clipped version of my new discoveries. “It’s the oldest relic known of the god, and was stolen from King Scorpion’s tomb.” His brows shoot up, and I shrug. “It supposedly held the power of Set, Seth”—I correct in Greek, knowing he’s angered enough over Fadil’s words—“and so, yes. I assume if Octavian found someone who knew the old magics, then another race of Kythan could be made from such an amulet—I mean, they have been.”

“But he would still need someone who could work the old magics,” Xarion says, his gaze far off. “Fadil is the last of his kind, and his powers wane daily. What Roman would have any knowledge at all about ancient Egyptian magics?”

It’s not truly a question asked of me, but I shake my head anyway, thinking along with him about who could wield that power.

“Fadil was very adamant about the immortal ones,” Xarion says. “Ever since I’ve known him, he’s spoken of the old ways, of a time that was pure in our culture.”

“No, Xarion.” I rest my pale hand over his tanned one. “Fadil wouldn’t betray the pharaohs. And even if he’d consider it, you said so yourself, he’s no longer able to.”

Tags: Trisha Wolfe Kythan Guardians
Source: readsnovelonline.net