Shorts, Writing Prompts, & Random Thoughts

The Great Library

They were breaking down the doors.

Smoke was billowing through the dim hallways, forcing those running inward to cover their mouths with the fabric of their clothes. The air was hot and stifling, choking the throats of every person in the ancient stone passageways. Dust and soot coated the inside of Maat's mouth as she shoved the eldest scholars as gently as possible down the crumbling stairs.

The boom of impact driving down on the wood of the doors behind them shook a fine dust from the rafters and broke small bits of stone from the pillars. The beams rose far above her head, craning into the archways of the ceilings that had been erected even before her ancestors walked these hallways. The mosaics of tiny, colored tiles covering the bases had dulled in the chaos and carnage.

Maat shoved and shoved, shouting until her throat was raw, and her voice came out hoarse. Her raven-black hair plastered to her forehead with sweat and grime.

"Go!" she kept shouting. Frantic. Demanding. Useless. The further they went into the library's depths, the less of a chance they had of getting out before the rest of the crumbling structure either burned or toppled to the ground.

They were breaking down the doors.

The Palmyrene garrison had found its target. They had gained control of Alexandria and its people, and were taking the library down before the city's eyes. The scholars, poets, and seekers of this place would not make it out before day's end. They would meet Anubis and face the Muses. Maat hoped they would grant the scrollkeepers safe passage; They would not be given sacred rest amongst their ancestors this day.

The grief nearly brought Maat to her knees.

With as many scholars and elders making their way toward their false safety, Maat set to finding the most valuable scrolls in the furthest rooms from the attacking men. She sought ancient poems, accounts of history, hand painted papyrus, and other important, irreplaceable knowledge. She shoved as many scrolls as she could fit under her too-thin arms, racing between rooms.

Maat skidded to a halt in a large, mostly deserted hallway. The soldiers caught sight of her at the same time she whirled from them, aiming for the nearest corner. Their clanking footsteps heralded their pursuit.

Maat tore through the massive hall, ducking behind towering pillars and piles of dusty rubble in an effort to lose the men. There were at least three, and every one of them was more than twice her size- and military trained. Her fear bolstered every step as she launched herself on a statuette of a Muse she could not identify. She whirled to find the three soldiers encircling her, forcing her back toward the long mosaic wall behind her.

The whisper of the papyrus rustled as she dropped the scrolls at her feet. She held the statuette ahead of her, arms straight. She would not falter. Not in the face of this great hall of knowledge. Not until she took her last breath.

The men surveyed her. She watched them back. She took in the details of their armor and weapons. Noted the blood on them. She would not be afraid under the watching eye of Ra. She would not go swiftly.

Maat waited, and it did not take long before the man to her left dropped into a placating pose, and the men to her right and directly in front rushed, hoping to subdue her. The first to reach her did not expect the arcing throw of the marble statue directly to his face. The spray of the shattering stone pelted her cheeks, making her flinch. She ducked into a crouch, and the second man missed his grasping lunge for her middle, stumbling over her and crashing into the solid stone of the wall. He did not rise.

The first man stood motionless, his weapon unsheathed at some point during the encounter. His face was wary. His features were obscured mostly by the blood spattered across his skin, and the soot staining his facial hair. Maat thought he might be handsome, if not a little young to be militia already. Her 23 summers felt as though they had dragged on a millennia. The youth in his face made her heart heavy.