Curse of the Jackalmen

three and a half years later

this two year old piece of crap is gonna be so rewritten you won't believe it as soon as the whole story is finished.  PLEASE DON'T JUDGE THE STORY ON THE EARLY CHAPTERS. THEY ARE SO OLD

Dedicated to KatPruitt for editing!! Thank you!! 

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There's no sleeping late for the sun God Ra, or for slaves with responsibilities. I mused as I pushed myself up, off the pallet I slept on. My master, a fifteen year old boy named Synos, Syn for short, had a small bedroom, with his cot-like bed and my pallet on the floor next to it. He was still fast asleep, his mouth gaping as he snored, knuckles brushing the floor from the arm hanging over. I would wake him up in an hour.

The first trickles of sunlight were making there way through the windows when I crept down the stairs. Waking my master's mother, Kyripatra, or her younger son, Ptolis, would mean a beating. Ptolis was everything my master was not. He had his thick black hair shaved except for a braid.(a traditional Egyptian style for they're youth), Syn had his curly brown hair cut close to his head. Ptolis lined his eyes with Kohl and wore Egyptian clothes. Syn left.his green eyes alone and wore tunics and togas like any good Roman. The brothers fought constantly, their personalities polar opposites. Ptolis was a momma's boy who hated slaves, especially me, Syn hates his mother and loved his father, he treats me far better than he should. Most Egyptians see slaves as expendable resources. He, on many occasions has called me his friend.

I stopped by the kitchens, wolfed my porridge, and headed out the door to fetch water. In Rome, Syn tells me, they have aqueducts so rich citizens have water flowing straight to their house. In Egypt, we have me and a bucket. The well is a half mile from the house, so the five trips take me half an hour. By then it's time to wake Syn and truely start the day.