Chapter 9

9

D joser | Cairo, Egypt | Late 1900s

The sun bore down on Djoser's exposed neck. Sweat soaked through patches of his thin, white, long-sleeved shirt, evidence of the long hours he was putting into this project.

"Hey, Djoser," called his professor. "Water break." The woman threw a plastic water bottle toward him from the top level of the site. It hit the ground a few feet away from him, rolling until dirt had completely stuck to all parts of it.

"You know, a few other Ph.D. candidates have a bet against you," she continued. This woman was the head of the archaeology department at Columbia University. Djoser had little interest in leaving the country he founded and saw that she was here on a dig over the summer. He volunteered immediately. With master's degrees in anthropology and political science, he was quickly accepted.

"Yes, a few candidates think this dig is a waste of time. That I shouldn't have let some hotshot Egyptian local come in and spend a massive amount of our financial resources on something that was not planned," she continued.

Djoser smiled up at her, taking the moment to grab the dirt-covered water bottle and clean off the cap with his already ruined shirt. He had spent hours writing research papers on why they should dig here, on this site, searching for the Book of the Dead. It was all for show, considering that he had known where it had been for thousands of years.

"Hey, no worries, we've got this, Professor," he shouted up at her. She smirked, pulling her sunglasses down to reveal her eyes.

"Don't make me regret this, kid," Professor Skiog said before walking away. The other eight adults in the dig site kept their heads down, rolling their eyes underneath hats and covers that protected them from the day's torturous sun.

"I didn't realize this was a fucking popularity contest," he scoffed loud enough, feeling too ready for confrontation. "Fucking Americans."

"I'm from Australia, mate," said the skinny blonde male closest to him, who was a few shades too red.

"I'd double up on the SPF," Djoser replied, sighed, and turned back to his work.

With no dynasty to help rule from the shadows, this was now what he did with his time. After the last political uprising in the country, he had decided to try his hand at acting like a citizen, and had so far found it dull.

Djoser returned to his stone, picking up his large yellow bristle brush and continued to push back material gently. He was surprised to discover how much he liked digging. It provided an easy magic release without any loss of life.

Anyone looking closely would be able to see that much more was uncovered with the stroke of a brush than should be expected. Djoser did his best to work slowly, pulling atoms apart in the exact corner of the site that should reveal the Kingdom Cemetery.

He found what he was looking for. The material moving forward was neither limestone nor sandstone, so he pushed around it, mimicking his magic by picking up his pace with a brush.

"What is it? What did you find? Oye, the Egyptian found something!" The Australian shouted as the entire staff and group of interns up above jumped into the site to crowd behind Djoser.

"Alright, alright, back it up," the professor shouted, shoving her way through until she stood shoulder-to-shoulder with him. "You know what to do from here?" she asked him point blank.

He nodded, wiping the sweat off of his brow.

"Give them hell, kid." She winked.

Whatever that is supposed to mean.

"Looks like I won this bet. The Egyptian was not wasting our time. I want everyone working on this wall. You will be delicate. When the day is over, if you owe me money, you can pay me in cash or coins. I'll also take a pint at the tavern," Professor Skiog yelled, clapping her hands with authority. "Let's get moving!"

"Hey, are we splitting that fifty-fifty?" Djoser asked her, laughing. Professor Skiog tsked back at him, shaking her head, and walked back over to the awning set up nearer to the start of the dig site.

More hours passed with everyone working together in silence, concentrating on the task at hand. As the sun approached the horizon, Professor Skiog came back to check their progress, pleased at the uncovering of a few meters' worth of a still-unknown structure.

Unknown to the humans, of course.

"I think we'll get to start bragging by the end of the day tomorrow. That's it for the day; everyone here can wrap up," the professor said, pulling on a light sweater while pushing her sunglasses up over her head. She brushed her sweaty, sandy-colored hair off of her skin.

The graduate students shuffled up onto flat ground, some more gracefully than others after neatly piling their tools up. Djoser was the last to put away his set and made some effort to convince anyone watching that he was also struggling to lift himself out of their eight-foot-deep hole in the ground. Of course, the men had to leave the ladder untouched.

This was Djoser's favorite part of the day, in this version of his life, anyway. He got to leave this group of humans whom he didn't particularly enjoy being around and walk home in solace, watching the sunset while hunting for a street vendor that was late to close up.

He got on the bus and waited for the entire team to board. It was small, with metal benches for seats. He scooted past Professor Skiog, who gave him a nod before choosing an empty seat in the back. Once the bus returned them to Cairo and all had deboarded, Djoser set off south towards his small apartment that he had rented through the summer.

Through the dusty streets of the city, Djoser passed through Ataba Square. Vendors lined both sides, the faint smell of coriander and pepper wafting from ahead. His stomach growled as he walked up to a friendly vendor wearing a black beanie and red hoodie, wrapping up his products.

"Can I still get something to eat? I have cash," Djoser said to the vendor in his metal-framed stall.

"Ah yes, I can fix you a falafel plate, my friend," the vendor answered.

Djoser dug in his pockets for the small amount required for this exchange. Minutes later, he continued to walk through the market, his apartment waiting on the other side, with a plate filled with the day's leftover falafel and grape leaves. He stuffed some in his mouth, savoring the salty, fried flavor.

The sun had set, and all the other shops in the square had shut their rigid aluminum barriers, closing down and returning to their homes and families. It wasn't unusual for this area to be empty since it wasn't a large tourist destination, but tonight felt particularly desolate.

Djoser walked up to an intersection and felt a prick on the back of his neck. Something was wrong.

The darkness surrounding him pressed down like toothpaste being squeezed from a tube. He knew that feeling, remembered it from the day he discovered the destruction he could bring.

They were back. Reign had been right.

Something large and heavy slammed into him, and Djoser flew, flipping through the air as if he had been hit by a truck. His skin stung from the dirt road, scratching as he skidded and tumbled like a rock tossed by a child. His apartment keys and phone were thrown from his pockets, jingling as they fell behind him.

"Fucking . . .'' Djoser panted, "hell."

Djoser jumped to his feet, his eyes black as an abyss. His white shirt, now stained with dark blue blood, ripped apart as fifteen feet of brown and green leathery wings burst out so fast that a witness would swear that they appeared from thin air. His hands remained by his sides while his nostrils flared with the promise of demise.

There was no sign of the creature that hit him as it hid in the shadows, waiting for its opportunity to feed. Djoser searched the darkness, letting his power creep through every atom that may be hidden between stalls.

Then he saw the bright red eyes glowing in the dark thirty meters ahead of him.

"Got you, you little shit," he said with a boyish smile. He released his power in full for the first time in too long.

"I am not the monster," he told himself, reaching for the Vrae.

The red eyes disappeared as shops and stands crumbled to pieces. Djoser looked around frantically for the Vrae. As soon as he turned his back, a black figure jumped onto him, its mouth opening from ear to ear to show dozens of long, jagged teeth.

The Vrae bit down on Djoser's left wing, letting out a horrific squeal of delight as it got a mouthful of the blood that it was created to hunt. Djoser let out an enormous howl due to the now missing piece of his flesh, blue liquid gushing down his wings, shoulders, and back.

A second puncture of his wing sent Djoser into a lightheaded state. The Vrae bit through an artery and was now casually snacking on the Kinnari male, whose vision was beginning to cloud.

Djoser was on his knees, trembling from the weight of the Vrae on his back. He forced himself to raise his hands to his head, extending his magic, reaching for salvation. It was a final push or it was his final breath .

The Vrae froze in time.

Djoser screamed, finding all of the space between him and the Vrae with his magic. He grabbed every atom that gave the Vrae his life and pulled it apart.

There was no scream, no dramatic death. The demon simply disappeared, as if it had never existed at all.

Djoser fell to his forearms and growled, letting it sit in his throat as his frustration continued to build. His wings bled heavily as the pool of blood around him spread. His body was shutting down, focusing on healing his traumatic wounds. His blinks slowed down, his eyelids sticking every time they came together.

Djoser vaguely recognized a thud in the distance. Boots hit the dirt, and footsteps sounded until they were right behind him.

"It doesn't seem like you need much help," Arryn's voice was hushed.

Arryn's wings scraped the dirt as he knelt and placed his hands over the bloodied, missing part of Djoser's wing.

"No," Djoser protested, "don't touch them. They will heal."

"I can't imagine how," Arryn said while proceeding to stack new atoms together, stitching them into Djoser's wings gracefully. Mere seconds later, the blood had stopped, and the missing flesh was restored.

"Think of it as a thank you. The first Vrae released in this realm, since we were children, and yet, somehow, you were the first of us hunted down. None of us can kill them as easily as you, friend. No one has ever even had the opportunity before to try. I suppose we were lucky," Arryn said, grabbing Djoser's waist from behind and aiding him to his feet.

"How did you know to come?" Djoser asked. "I didn't fully sense it until after it attacked me."

"I didn't know. I came to gather everyone and send them to the temple. We have our signal. It's time for war," Arryn said blatantly.

"No shit," Djoser scoffed. "You could have just called me, you know, on a phone. You should get one. "

Arryn walked around in a circle, gathering up Djoser's keys and cell phone.

"It doesn't look like you have one either," Arryn shrugged, handing Djoser the shattered, boxy plastic phone, its antenna snapped off.

"Are you ready to go? Is there anything you need to take care of?"

Djoser pocketed his items. "I need to return to my apartment. I need to shower and clean up. What is so urgent? What is this sign? I have not been ordered to kill."

"It's Allienna," Arryn said, a peculiar inflection in his voice.

"She isn't. She isn't dead, is she? She didn't get attacked?"

She likely couldn't defend herself against a Vrae .

"No, it's not that," Arryn said, spreading his wings wide. "She's pregnant. Somehow, we did it, a true Kinnari woman carrying a biological child."

Djoser had to remind himself to breathe. The gods, the Life Gifter himself, would be outraged. Kinnari were not made to procreate. The gods would surely come for both Reign and now Allienna. This was Reign's vision and he would likely be forced to carry out the sentence.

How? This couldn't just happen.

Arryn took a few dramatic steps back before hovering in the air.

"Get to the temple. I will gather the others. I will see you there."

With that, Arryn took off into the night sky, undetectable the moment he let himself ascend.