The Silent Sphinx

The Lobby

"Why did you let the kid have that ring?" Mrs. Howard huffed.

"At least it makes him happy to have it. He insists it's his, and this is no situation to argue," Mary replied. "Besides, don't think I don't know you just want it for yourself."

"I do not, I'd just rather the nine-year-old wasn't wearing a millennia-old museum piece like it was some cheap prop ring he got at a birthday party."

"He's actually being really careful with it, all things considered," Davie said. Ariel was walking just ahead of all of them, the ring still on his finger. He even had his fist clenched to be sure it didn't slip off, and every so often he would reach up and twist it slightly, as if to reassure himself it was still there.

"My question is why it even fits on his finger. Eshaq is a grown man," Francis pointed out. "And look, Ariel's wearing it on his ring finger without it slipping off."

"I... don't know," Mary sighed.

"Maybe Lord Eshaq had really petite fingers?" Davie asked. "It was hard to tell looking at his skeleton..."

"More likely is that the ring wasn't Lord Eshaq's," Mrs. Howard said. "If it had been his, he would have been wearing it, right?"

"That's what I assumed," Francis asked. "But, then, who did it belong to?"

"A noble's kid? Or, again, a noble with really skinny fingers?" Davie asked.

"Let's not worry about the ring," Mary said. "More important is surviving whatever the Pharaoh throws at us next."

After a little while, Francis addressed the elephant in the room.

"I'm still confused by what Lord Eshaq said. He admitted he was one of the advisors from the original story, who killed the Pharaoh because people were afraid of his ambition. So... Why would he think it was a mistake? Why would he feel so guilty about it?"

"Everyone has at least a twinge of guilt over killing another human being, even more so if you knew them personally," Mrs. Howard explained. "Plus, he's been down there long enough, thinking and reflecting on what he did, with the Pharaoh throwing a tantrum about it all the time - what if he just started to believe the Pharaoh was right and he was in the wrong? Just some weird Stockholm Syndrome thing?"

"...Maybe," Francis said.

"I dunno if it's 'just a Stockholm Syndrome thing' as you put it, Mrs. Howard," Davie said. "The Pharaoh was not only a governmental figure but a figure of worship as well. He was said to be the mortal incarnation of Horus, aka the sun god. Going against him, even if it was for the good of the world, would not only be an act of treason against the government, but also actively blasphemous - as you'd expect the act of killing a god on earth to be."

"That might be it... but surely Eshaq knew what kind of guy the Pharaoh had become, someone who wasn't worthy of his apology. Surely he knew how much pain the Pharaoh caused," Mary said coldly.

Ariel stopped short, head bowed and face screwed up as if he were going to cry again.

"Oh, no, Ariel, I'm not angry at you," Mary reassured the boy, holding him close as they continued to walk. Ariel buried his face in her side.

"Eshaq called it a thoughtless decision. Impulsive. Motivated by fear," Francis said quietly.

"Unfortunately he didn't tell us much. We have no idea why Eshaq thinks like that," Mrs. Howard replied. "Frankly, it was just plain weird what he said. He insisted killing the Pharaoh was a terrible decision, but in almost the same breath warns us that the Pharaoh's darkness has corrupted this place and we're very likely to die."