Crossed Hands

Chapter 1

I knelt before the Pharaoh, wondering what my punishment for nothing would be. I did not look at him, nor did I look at his son and his many friends and cousin.

Was I finally going to die? Was I finally going to be cast off from here, only to be sent straight to Anubis and his place of darkness?

I don't know; only the gods can tell what would happen to a pitiful soul like me.

The Pharaoh leaned forward, his dark eyes scrutinizing me between the standing the guards. I didn't have to see to know that; actually, I guess you can say that I can't see at all. Only the gods allow me sight to a certain extent, but it's still a mystery to me.

"Stand, girl." His deep voice gave me shivers. It was in that neutral tone that all children hated, that all people hated in general. None-the-less, I struggled to me feet, my hair creating a curtain around my feeble and beaten body. "What is your name?"

Did I have a name? I wasn't sure. Maybe I had one, once, but it's gone now. Silence stole over us for a few seconds before I gathered the courage to speak. "I do not have one, Pharaoh." My voice was small, weak; was it always that way? I wouldn't know; I don't dare to ask.

Contemplation stole over the Pharaoh's aura, and I tensed, wondering and reveling in this new change. What is going to happen?

"Come here." I made it up the steps and to his throne in a fair amount of time, even if I stumbled and fell down every two footsteps. A warm hand gripped my chin before I was looking into the face of Egypt's Pharaoh. His eyes were a beautiful crimson, which made me wonder at the dark color I swore I thought I saw. Strangely enough, I could see myself in his eyes; long, untamed black hair swept around my small, lean face. I let myself marvel at the golden skin tone before I looked myself in the eyes.

I knew what I would see; years of looking into the Nile told me that my eyes never changed. Still, the fear always presented itself at full force when I saw my one white eye staying next to it's black sister. Did the gods hate me enough to where they would bring me shame and hatred upon me instantaneously? I don't know; I never will.

The Pharaoh's warm smile distracted me for a moment. Why was he smiling? Did he find something he liked in me, or was it that he was smiling because he was going to enjoy the torture inflicted upon me?

That was soon answered.

"My son, come here and take a look at this girl." A few seconds of rustling fabric and I was staring at a pair of violet eyes, these more open that their father pair. Shock crossed his face before he looked at his father in question. "She would be a lovely friend to you, if I am not mistaken." With his other hand, he gestured for one of the guards to take off my shackles.

I was surprised; all my life, I was told I would be killed, yet this seemed to reverse it. The Pharaoh wanted me alive! And friends? Would it be true if I had friends?! "Atemu, I want you to take her to Isis and get her healed. After that, give her a name; she will be your confident from then on." Everyone was shocked, I knew, but I couldn't stand there looking like something extraordinary happened.

I bowed to the Pharaoh, hoping to hide my tears of happiness. "Thank you..." My voice was still small, but it seemed to be stronger now, more stable. He nodded, and Prince Atemu, along with all of his friends, started to lead me to this Isis.

It was quiet; only the echoes of our footsteps made sure that I wasn't going deaf. Prince Atemu tried to keep his gaze ahead, but he did slide glances at me every once a while. It was probably to make sure that I didn't fall behind, or maybe it was because of my strangeness, being Egyptian with a white eye and a black eye and all.

We arrived to what seemed to be the healer's room; the room was organized and clean, the shelves filled to the brim with scrolls and ointments. "What is it you need, Prince?" A woman, a beautiful woman, walked out from one of the side rooms, cleaning her hands on a rag. Her eyes roved over the group before they landed upon me. "Come here, child." There was no hesitation in my footsteps this time; Isis had an aura about her that said she was kind, loyal, and not a traitor of any sort.