In the aftermath of nine devastating plagues that ravaged ancient Egypt, a high priestess desperately seeks to prevent the impending tenth plague. Still, her efforts fail, leaving her at the mercy of an enraged pharaoh. Meanwhile, the pharaoh's son...
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Rai couldn't feel her face. There was pain—so much pain. She groaned and began to weep. Because she was lying on her side, she could make out the army a far way off through the blur of her tears. Where were the cheetahs? Why was she not dead? She assumed that they would kill and eat her. Perhaps Menkhaf had called them back or they had escaped. She doubted the latter though.
Moaning, Rai blinked away her tears and attempted to sit up. She cried out when pain tore through her waist. Placing her palm on the spot, she took in rapid ragged breaths. The agony; she was almost out of her mind with the intensity of it. Her fingers trembled as she brought it up to her face. As expected, it was covered with blood.
Rai refused to look down. She was scared of what she might see. Turning her head with great effort, she took in the scenery and sighed. The shore was still a considerable distance away, but going back the way they came was a better option than going ahead with the army. The thought of Menkhaf spotting her planted a paralysing fear in her very soul.
Wheezing and clutching her side, Rai staggered to her feet and made her way to the shore. As she dragged her broken frame along, she refused to look down at herself or touch her face. She was scared that if she found out the extent of her injuries, she might give up and die.
So she moved on, increasing her pace and shaking with sobs. The pain. It made her want to scream, fight and die all at once. But she gritted her teeth, choosing to fight. Screaming or dying wouldn't help.
Just die. Look at it as a self-inflicted punishment. Think of your brother...
Rai flinched at the memory. It had always been there, hidden well in the bedrock that held the building of her position as a priestess. She had made her decision that day. After all, it would have been a waste to give up after killing her brother.
You should die, too. Find him in the afterlife, and beg for his forgiveness.
Now Rai's tears had nothing to do with the pain in her body. She let the thoughts pour out of the cracked cistern of her mind. All the memories of the time they grew up together, struggling to survive on the streets of Memphis.
"I am sorry. Forgive me, Adjo. But I don't want to meet you yet. I want to live. I'm still so selfish."
Rai struggled to dispel the thoughts of the day the mother priestess approached her. She recalled the woman had looked so unusual with her wrinkled, liver-spotted face and arthritic fingers clutching her staff. She had attempted to flee her presence but the mother priestess had held her to the spot with an unknown power, preventing Rai from moving until she heard all she had to say.
The mother priestess had been persuasive, painting pictures of power and luxury. Her words had made Rai painfully aware of her hand-to-mouth existence, the merciless struggle to survive she had to go through each day.
"I didn't know at that time, I didn't know what I needed to sacrifice to get the power and acclaim. I was already in too deep when the reality set in. Please, Adjo, I am sorry. I'm so, so sorry." Rai wept as she begged, consumed in a haze of pain, guilt, and regret.
