The wind swept through the golden sands of Thebes, carrying with it whispers of war. The air was heavy with tension, as if the gods themselves held their breath, watching the drama unfold beneath the unforgiving sun. At the center of it all stood the grand palace of Azech-I, a towering monument of power and ruthlessness.
Inside, the hall was eerily silent, save for the faint crackle of torches lining the walls. Azech-I sat upon his throne, his imposing figure bathed in shadow. The dark kohl around his eyes accentuated the sharpness of his gaze, a gaze that had long since lost its warmth. His broad shoulders were draped in black and gold, the colors of Anubis, a testament to the divine favor he wielded as a weapon against his enemies.
In the center of the hall knelt Nofri-it.
Or what remained of him.
Once, Nofri-it had been a vision of pride, his lean form honed for battle, his golden skin a testament to his heritage. Now, he was a shadow of that man. His wrists were bound with golden chains, his tunic tattered and clinging to a body gaunt from years of imprisonment. His head hung low, ebony hair falling in disarray around his face.
"You've grown quiet, little lioness," Azech-I said, his voice low and sharp, cutting through the silence like a blade. "Have the dungeons of Memphis stolen your fire?"
Nofri-it did not respond. He couldn't. His throat was dry, his words buried beneath layers of exhaustion and pain. But even in his silence, Azech-I's anger burned hotter.
"You were sent to kill me," Azech-I continued, rising from his throne. Each step he took echoed in the vast hall, the sound bouncing off the gilded walls. "Two years we spent together. Two years, and all the while, you planned to plunge a blade into my heart."
His voice cracked on the last word, a flash of emotion breaking through his cold demeanor. He stopped before Nofri-it, towering over him like a storm cloud ready to unleash its fury.
"Look at me," Azech-I commanded.
Nofri-it hesitated, but the pull of the command was irresistible. Slowly, he lifted his head, revealing hollow cheeks and eyes that no longer held the spark Azech-I remembered. The sight only enraged the Pharaoh further.
"This is what you've been reduced to?" Azech-I spat, his voice trembling with a mix of fury and something dangerously close to sorrow. "A broken thing? I searched for you—for years—like a madman. And this is how you return to me? In chains? Fragile and weak?"
Nofri-it's lips parted, as if he wanted to speak, but no words came. His silence was an answer in itself, and it only deepened Azech-I's torment.
The room fell into a suffocating quiet, broken only by the distant howl of the desert wind. Azech-I's mind spiraled, flashes of the past creeping into the edges of his vision.
He saw Nofri-it as he had been—the assassin who had entered his court with sharp eyes and a sharper tongue, his every movement calculated, every word a challenge. He remembered the nights spent in whispered conversations, the stolen moments when their barriers crumbled, and the fire that burned between them.
And then he remembered the day Nofri-it disappeared. The emptiness that followed. The madness.
"You betrayed me," Azech-I said, his voice a whisper now, heavy with the weight of memories. "You were mine, Nofri-it. And you betrayed me."
This time, Nofri-it spoke. His voice was hoarse, barely audible, but the words were clear. "I had no choice."
The admission struck Azech-I like a blow. He knelt before Nofri-it, his fingers gripping the assassin's chin, forcing their gazes to lock. "No choice?" he repeated, his voice trembling. "You had a choice when you chose to warm my bed, when you chose to hold my trust. Was all of it a lie?"
Nofri-it's eyes glistened with unshed tears. "I was sent to kill you," he whispered. "But I—" He stopped, his voice breaking.
Azech-I released him, rising to his full height. His face was a mask of indifference now, though his fists trembled at his sides. "You will remain here," he said coldly. "Not as my equal, but as my prisoner. My pet. Let the court see what happens to those who betray the Pharaoh."
He turned away, his cape billowing behind him as he strode from the hall. But as the doors closed, shutting Nofri-it away, Azech-I's heart ached with a pain he could not name.
And so the game began—a battle of wills, of vengeance and love, where neither man could predict the outcome.
To Be Continued...