"A little higher! Go! Yea that's looking good!"
Whispers fell against the stone walls. An abandoned temple stood alone against the bustling streets of Cairo. Small in stature: the steel high rises shadowed its once grandure past. Figures, on its limestone surface, nothing more than graffiti marks. The paint chipped: difficult to distinguish what God was once praised here. Relics removed: and the statues crumbled to near nothing due to wear and vandalism. The alter, holding what few plates and offerings that held no monetary value, now collect dust from its years of neglect. In the main chamber three silhouettes filled the room. A man, standing on a strategically placed Boulder, his arms, stretched to length, Spraying chemicals from a steel can. The rush of neon pink covered the cracked surface of the wall. The clicking of another can was being shook from the right as another man swiftly swept the borders of the image in a luminescent blue. The room was lit with the fluorescent light of a battery operated lamp and a a couple flashlights. Their movements smooth and precise as they were nearly done.
"Man, I can't believe we found such a prime spot for our new entragram post!"
The one on the right softly spoke. Keeping his voice at a soft spoken level so not to echo their location.
"It's great right! Told you he knew some good spots."
The man on the left chimed with a grin as he nodded towards the entrance of the room.
A third man, no more than nineteen, leaned against the stone frame in a relaxed posture. His thumb swiping on his phone vigorously. Adorning a black hooded jacket that covered his head and a pair of grey jeans. His white Yike shoes firmly planced on the stone flooring. Tan skin with green eyes that flickered through posts on the website. His hair nearly covering them as curls and waves poked out of the hood. He seemed disinterested in what the two men were saying: his focus solely on one thing.
"Hey! Najja?" The man on the left hissed when he realized he was being ignored.
"You're supposed to be keeping watch, not sticking your nose in your fucking phone!"
Najja glanced over at them before letting out an almost irritated sigh.
"Look, I already said, the Medjay* don't keep tabs on this location anymore since it's been abandoned."
He whispered with a stoic expression.
"Their priorities are with the temples that have remained relevant. Trust me I should know."
Najja turned back to his phone: thumb swiping once more.
"Oh right, Ahmed mentioned somthing about your old man being a temple priest or somthing like that right?"
Najja didn't acknowledge him.
"Seems kinda fucked up that the son of a religious man is going around Desecrating temples. Won't your, so called, god send a beast to eat your soul for for somthing like this?"
He laughed as he gaged the lookout for any type of reaction.
"Dude just lay off. Let's just finish this and get out of here." Ahmed hissed as he sprayed a few more colors.
The man simply shrugged and finished up his side.
Several minutes passed until it was finally complete.
Ahmed and his friend took a couple steps back to view their finished product.
The letters bold, in white, with a black outline. The neon colors making the words pop against the beige interior.
"Nice!" Ahmed whispered with a grin.
"Now let's get the photos and get out of here."
As the men rummaged through their backpacks for their equipment, Najja took the moment to snap a picture of his own. The photo saved to a folder on his phone, he stared at the, now, graffitied wall. Just below the pink coloring was what looked like to be picture etched in stone. It was hard to make out. A beast maybe?
"Ammit*...or possibly..."
Najja murmured.
"What was that?"
Ahmed turned around.
His eyes widened slightly as his heart dropped.
A flicker of light coming from outside as voices began to approach the structure.
"SHIT!" He whispered loudly as he grabbed his bag.
Najja and the other man whipped their head around in unison. The other man lunged for his items as he stuffed them in his own bag: throwing his hood over his head along with Ahmed. The three scrambled out of the temple in time as the sounds of boots crunching on dirt approached the entrance.
"HEY!"
An authoritative voice rang through the air.
"MEDJAY! RUN!" Ahmed's friend yelled as the three men sprinted towards the chain linked fence which surrounded the site. Ahmed and the man scaled the fence with ease as Najja wedged himself through an opening at the bottom. The broken pieces of fencing ripping the bottom of his jeans as he was nearly grabbed.
Having lost sight of his friend, he rounded the corner of an old storage building. The narrow street lined with homes that were stacked in a smothering line. The after sunset crowd mingled shoulder to shoulder as he maneuvered around them. The medjay were not too far behind him. Shoving people as they barged through men and women like a raging bull.
Najja slid down another narrow passage and emerged the next street over. Again it was smothered with people. He clutched his phone in his hand as he waded the crowd. Emerging at an intersection he moved his body against one of the buildings to take a breath.
He looked down at his screen. A quarter past eight.
The lights on the streets gave false sunlight as Najja adjusted his eyes to the sky above. The dark blues and Grey's were hovering above the glow of electricity flowing from bulb to bulb.
The break didn't last, two more officers emerged from the intersection.
Najja, once again, was on the run. His feet carried him swiftly past buildings: new and old. He made it as far as one of the districts in the Khan E. The crowds of people had thinned out.
All that remained was the faint voices of those in the stacked village, far off, and the soft murmurs of those who walked by him. He stuck out worse than a sore thumb.
Jeans tattered at he bottom, dirt and mud caked on his jacket as well as his white shoes now with an unrecognizable label. Najja's sole focus on escaping the law lead him straight to the aristocratic area: as he and his friends so put it. Once having been a bustling bazaar selling unique items from around the world had now been taken over by businessmen whose sole purpose is to turn a quick profit.
He walked the stone pathway, glancing into the store windows. Replicated statues of gods and pharaohs lined the shelves. Phony crystals glimmering in clear cases: no doubt to try and pull in an unsuspecting buyer to rip off.
He just shook his head.
He came across another window. Inside were religious items. Mainly amulets and staffs. Their faux gold shining in the security lights.
He rolled his eyes.
"Typical tourist trap."
Najja murmured as he quickened his step.
He turned the corner to a side street and nearly collided with a broad body.
"Hey!" He looked up and froze. The menacing stare of a Medjay stood in his path. Najja pivoted as another came up behind him and secured his arms behind his back.
"Why am I not suprised..." The first officer sighed: crossing his arms over his chest.
Najja stopped struggling, accepting he had now been apprehended. Not by just anyone either.
"Cousin..."
Najja acknowledged the older man.
The second Medjay secured the boys arms behind his back as the first grabbed him by his jacket.
"Looks like another trip to the station for you. This makes, what? The seventh time this month?"
"Eighth." Najja smirked.
Scowling: He jerked Najja forward, dragging him to a waiting car.
----
Najja sat in the passanger seat of a grey BMW. Elbow propped up by the window as he rest his head on his knuckles. The streetlights whisking by like a flash of lightning in a storm. His expression reflecting in the window. Stoic: with a hint of irritation.
The driver: his cousin, Aharon. Adorned in his Medjay attire.
Sleek black boots with grey uniformed pants tucked inside. A similar gray top with a black leather belt secured tightly around his waist. The arm band on his right bicep, dark blue, indicating the branch of law enforcement he belonged to. Like Najja, Aharon had been raised in the same fashion as his younger cousin. The teachings paved a path to becoming an officer of religious law. His duty to the citizens were to maintain and enforce the laws that protected religious sites.
Aharon glanced over at Najja. His steely cold stare, as usual, didn't affect the younger man. There was an all too familiar silence in the car as he made his way through the traffic lights.
Aharon vroke that silence.
"You're lucky it was me who caught you Najja. You know what's supposed to happen when vandals when they desecrate a religious site."
Najja didn't bother to answer. Instead maintained his focus out the window.
"If one of the other Medjay had snatched you earlier you could have been flogged and thrown in prison."
Aharon continued. He eyed his cousin.
There was still no response.
"Damn it all Najja answer me!"
Aharon raised his voice. Najja slunk his head towards the driver and gave an exhausted look.
"Why am I the one being lectured? You were there. There was no evidence that I was the one who painted the wall."
Aharon glared.
"None of you actually saw me do anything. For all you know I could be an innocent bystander who somehow got caught up in such a horrible situation-"
"Enough Najja!"
Aharon cut him off.
"You have the pictures on your phone. And yes, you're right, pictures alone cannot prosecute a person. However, I know you have been around Ahmed and his group of delinquents again."
"They're not delinquents." Najja snapped.
"The hell they're not! Desecrating a religious site?!"
Najja crossed his arms and leaned back against the seat.
"Stop acting like a child!" Aharon huffed with a sharp sigh.
"You're an adult. Start acting like it! I can't be around all the time to save your sorry butt when you decide to get caught up in stupid games with stupid people!"
Najja rolled his eyes.
"I didn't ask you to..."
Aharon rubbed his temples and sighed.
"Because I'm older I promised your dad I would look out for you. So do your part and get a grip already!"
The silence became loud once more.
"We're almost there."
Aharon spoke softly.
Najja, looking back out the window, let out a long sigh. The new high rises had turned to chipped stone. They had entered the old part of the city. The homes compact but not as dense as those on the market streets. The streets clean of trash and statues of gods appeared every so often.
Coming into view was one of the oldest temples. It's structure reaching high above the modern housing. The pillars having been washed that day: its bright paints of black, blue and gold seemed to glow in the moonlight. The metal sconce, that had been built into the limestone, held the flickering flames of the night's fire. The reds, oranges and yellows lit up the structure as if to banish any darkness that threatened its threshold.
Aharon pulled the car around to a small house not far from the temples compound.
The brakes screeching as the tires bit against the dirt.
Najja checked his phone. It was well after midnight.
"Get out, your dad already knows I am bringing you here."
Najja swung the door open and slammed it shut. Aharon, who had already stepped around the BMW and up next to his cousin, gave him a sharp slap on his shoulder in response.
He grabbed his younger cousins arm as if you slink back into his role as Medjay and bring him home.
Najja jerked his arm away as the front door of the house opened.
His father stood in the doorway. Arms folded over his chest, his stance was firm.
He wore a navy blue galabiya with a pair of white pants. His black hair graying on the sides along with parts of his mustache and beard. His eyes were cold and unwelcoming.
He hadn't bothered to give his son a single look and instead gave Aharon his attention.
"Evening." He nodded his head at his nephew.
"Good evening uncle" Aharon nodded back to him. He gripped Najja's arm in a vice.
Now Najja's father bore into his son with a steely gaze. Though he was looking at Najja he spoke to Aharon.
"What was it this time?"
Aharon released him.
"He happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. A protest had occurred and he was accidently rounded up with the other protestors." He indicated to najja with the movement of his head.
Skeptically: the man looked between Najja and Aharon.
"A protest you say." He murmurs as he tugged at his beard.
He looked back at his son.
"You boy, inside. Now!" His voice commanded.
Najja slunk past his father.
His father then looked at Aharon.
"A protest?" He asked once more.
"Yes sir." Aharon responded on beat. His stance now tall and collected like a proper officer.
His uncle huffed.
"Thank you for bringing him home. Though you do know that even though I have this aging face, my mind know better than to believe he was caught up in somthing by 'accident'", He emphasized on the last word.
Aharon remained silent.
Najja's father grunted once more as to dismiss Aharon and thank him once more.
----
"AGAIN!" a voice thundered from within the temple walls.
"I want you to yell it to the heavens so that you may amend your soul with Rah!"
Najja stood in the small atrium just outside the main chamber of the sacred stone structure. His stance: squatting while holding a large stone in his hands. Having been up since the early morning, his father had been punishing him for the past couple hours of the sun rising.
Najja yelled out the incantation for the rah to save his soul. While another incantation as a blessing to bastet for her protection of the family. This also correlated to Najja being spared by the Medjay.
"AGAIN!"
His father swung a rod at Najja's calves. The pain excruciating. He clenched his jaw and took the beating. Once more reciting the two incantations.
Along with the physical punishment came the public humiliation.
As he endured his punishment the acolytes had already begun their daily routine of maintaining the temples structure and grounds. The young men and women averted their eyes from the scene as they swept the dirt from the stones, changed and lit the fires and cleaning the limestone and alter.
After finishing around a hundred sacred prayers Najja was left to endure the physical side of the punishment. Now able to stand straight he still held the rock in his hands. Every bone and muscle in his arms and legs threatened to give way. The sun was particularly strong. His body dripping with sweat against his thin white shirt.
"So, what did you do this time?" A females voice whispered.
Najja glanced to his right. An acolyte adorned in white robes and niqab was sweeping rather close to him. Her brown eyes laughed at his predicament.
Najja glowered at her.
"Just shut up." He murmured as he adjusted his grip on the stone.
He gave her a one over and cocked his eyebrow.
"What's with the get-up Maye?"
The girl jabbed Najja with the wood handle of the broom.
He hissed.
"You're an idiot. Don't you even keep track of the different festivals?"
Najja gave her a look.
Maye rolled her eyes.
"The festival of bastet starts today."
Najja smirked.
"Explains why you have to wear that suffocating clothing."
Maye glared.
"I'll have you know I'm PROUD to wear this piece on this auspicious day. I want to please bastet and praise her for the fortune and wellness she has placed on my family and yours."
Maye's eyes nearly danced as she smiled.
"You should be thanking her as well. She protected you from getting flogged and thrown in prison for ending up in a protest rally."
"Is that what you've heard?" Najja tilted his head towards her in a teasing manner.
Maye huffed.
The sounds of sandel on stone echoed as both Maye and Najja quieted. An acolyte passed by. Once out of earshot Maye started up again.
"I don't understand you. Your family legacy is amazing. Your ancestors were able to speak right to the cat goddess herself! Not only that but being entrusted with such an important relic as the sun disc!"
Maye trailed on until she met Najja's gaze.
"You're kidding me..." Her eyes narrowed.
"You don't even know THAT MUCH of your family's history?" She hissed.
Najja replied with a disinterested sigh and looked away.
"Being a priest isn't exactly my thing okay? So forgive me if I'm less enthused about some magical cat than I am about things that ACTUALLY matter."
Maye struck him with the broom once more: harder.
"AGH!" Najja stumbled slightly.
"What matters is right here and now. You're always ending up in trouble and taking your punishments in the atrium. Don't you see why? It's obvious your dad cares a lot about you. All he wants to do is push you in the right direction."
Najja just looked at her.
"I don't know what happened to you. But ever since your grandfather-"
"Don't!" Najja warned.
He cut Maye off with a single look.
"Sorry..." She murmured.
The two stood silently until the sounds of footsteps were heard again.
Maye moved away from Najja as his father reappeared.
"Blessed day Maye" He nodded his head towards her. She nodded back.
His sharp eyes turned to Najja.
"Put the stone down."
Najja gladly released his grip and began to rub his sore muscles in his biceps and forearms.
"With your repentance complete you will now begin your punishment."
Najja looked at him.
"What do you mean punishment? Wasn't THAT my punishment?"
"Is that back-chat boy?"
Najja shut his mouth and looked down.
"No sir." He forced his response through clenched teeth.
"Because this is a day of celebration the temple could use all the help it can. For starters you will begin by cleaning the limestone walls with a special wool cloth. Next will be the floors and pillars."
His father went on and on. Making the list nearly a mile long.
"And finally you will make yourself useful by cleaning the vaults under the side temple."
With a look of defeat Najja began his work.
Throughout the day the banners were put up, the food an offerings made and the members were dressed in ancient amulets and artifacts. Najja had busied himself with the cleaning of the walls and floors.
A deacon had brought in the young children of the surrounding area. As he would do every year, he brought them to the full furnished atrium where they were served light food and graced with the story of the goddess bastet. The deacon began the tale and Najja scrubbed as he listened. It was the same story he had heard every year since he was a child.
The ancient world was riddled with chaos and disorder. Many of Rah's followers had turned to a tarnished God god to ask for protection as many began to deny the sun God. As punishment Rah sent down a warrior to punish the humans for their mistrust and heresy. The ancient warrior smote the non believers but became too powerful to handle. In response Rah extracted the powers from his warrior and thus Bastet was born. Resurrecting as a Phoenix from the power Rah held she started an Era anew, he abilities to protect the humans from any harm so long as they believed.
The kids chattered and clapped as the decan finished the story. A happy ending for all.
Najja shook his head.
The children filed out as Najja followed in tow. The ceremony was about to begin as many of the towns people gathered at the front of the shrine.
A large succession was held. The acolytes lined and from one end of the city and formed a parade route to the temple. They carried offerings as they began to chant and sing. Some even dancing for the goddess. The feasting and drinking had already began in the early afternoon.
Young and old all rejoiced. Everyone was happy and joyous.
Having to skip on the celebration Najja cpuld only watch as everyone indulged themselves in food and drink.
The early afternoon went to evening and late into the night.
Having been sent to the vaults, Najja was unable to hear any noise. The walls drowned out all sounds from the outside.
He pushed the heavy door open to the main vault. His nose greeted by the stench of old water and musk from what could be described as a type of mold.
"No one has been down here in years."
Najja Scoffed as he wiped the dust from some boxes that lined rusted shelves.
He took note of the newer items stacked at the front of the room. As he ventured in further books turned to scrolls and the metal shelves turned to stone holes carved into the walls.
The words on the items went from modern times to ancient hyroglyphics. The quality of the pieces decreased.
He stopped by a stone table that held open a scroll that was placed under a clear case.The ancient hyroglyphics were written neatly on the parchment.
Suddenly somthing ran over his shoe.
Having been lost in thought a rat scared Najja as he sent his body stumbling backwards into a rack of boxes. The items fumbled and crashed to the stone floor.
"Good going idiot."
Najja chastised himself as he gathered the items.
Placing everything back on the rack he held the remaining box in his hand. It was elongated, around the length of his forearm, and was wrapped tightly in linen. Too tightly.
"Weird."
He went to place the box back on the shelves with the others but paused.
Curiosity was getting the better of him.
He pulled the box back off the shelf and began to unravel the cloth that bound it together.
Having unwrapped it He carefully lifted the wooden lid and set it aside. Laying in a mixture of grass and cloth was an amulet. An armband that looked like it had once been worn by somebody important.
Najja further studied the item. It was miraculously stored without a single scratch on its surface. Even the amulets in the temple paled in comparison.
He carefully took the band out of the box. Holding it up to the torch light it had an inscription on it.
Never having bothered to learn the ancient language Najja continued to fumble with the item.
"This would look cool in a post!" Najja smiled as he pulled his phone from his pocket.
He set the box aside and slipped the band around his forearm. The item clicked into place, fitting perfectly on his arm.
He held it up to view it from a different angle.
He held up his phone to take a picture.
As Najja was about to snap the shot, a large rumbling sound came from above the vaults. The rumble had shaken the ceiling causing some of the dirt and debries to fall.
Najja coughed as he waved the dust from the air to see.
He made his way to the stairwell that lead up to the main floor. Climbing every other step as he reached the top: he froze. Everything from the decorations to the plants were up in flames. The fire crackled against the walls leaving behind black smudges on its surface. Panic was evident amongst the people trying to put it out.
As the people raced to gather water Maye came running up to the stunned Najja.
She had removed the sacred clothing and adorned pants and a green shirt. Her black hair in a wild braid that slung over her shoulder. Her brown eyes filled with both terror and determination.
She grabbed Najja by the arm.
"Najja! You're not hurt are you?!"
She frantically checked him over.
"What happened?!" Najja grabbed her hands to gain her attention.
Maye was frantic.
"Th-there were these men! They were draped in black robes! They were speaking an unknown language! And they started attacking people! They set the temple ablaze!"
Najja's eyes widened slightly.
There were several people laying on the ground dead. Majority acolytes.
He took in the charred paint and walls.
"My...my father?!" Najja seemed to ask his whereabouts.
"Najja....did you get burned?"
He looked down as Maye held his arm. Wrapping around it like an embedded tattoo were intricate designs. In the exact spot the armband was placed not moments ago.
"What in the name of Rah is this?"