Chapter One: The Foreigner by the Nile
On a scorching afternoon with the blazing sun high above, not a single cloud dotted the sky. An eagle spread its wings and soared under the sun, letting out a clear cry.
Below it flowed a great river, its banks lined with vast farmlands where a group of bent-over farmers toiled diligently.
These were ancient Egyptians.
The pyramids, gleaming white in the sun, had stood for more than a thousand years in the yellow sands.
This great kingdom had already passed through its most prosperous era, yet it remained powerful to this day.
In the 13th century BCE, the land of Egypt was no longer the warm and humid place of the Old Kingdom. It had become unbearably hot.
Sweat rolled down the skin of the farmers and dripped into the fertile soil.
They hummed ancient tunes in praise of the great Osiris, fantasizing during their weary labor about enjoying happiness in the afterlife in paradise.
The reforms of Pharaoh Amenhotep IV, who renamed himself Akhenaten, had failed to shake the Egyptians' unwavering devotion to the descendants of Atum as their spiritual anchor.
As for the god Aten, whose origin was unknown, no one ever took Him seriously.
People found Him just as baffling as Pharaoh Akhenaten himself.
Now, Amenhotep IV's bloodline had died out.
The Pharaoh who ruled the nation came from the Ramesses family—a clan known for bravery in battle and a commitment to the spiritual life of its people. This earned the Pharaoh popular support and inspired a revival of the empire's former glory.
In this world of gods and magic, the course of history had not changed much.
The Mediterranean region during the 14th to 13th centuries BCE was already bustling with activity.
The Hittites, who had migrated to the Anatolian Plateau, were at the height of their power. With their advanced iron smelting technology and chariots, they galloped across the Mesopotamian region, conquering former great powers like Babylon and Mitanni.
In the known world of the time, only the Egyptian Empire remained unshaken.
To defeat Egypt would fulfill the long-cherished dream of Hittite supremacy.
For the Egyptians, defeating the Hittites—who now strutted around in Egypt's former spheres of influence—was the best way to restore their ancestors' dominance.
But such matters were far removed from the concerns of these Egyptian farmers.
They couldn't even tell the difference between Hittites and Hebrews.
All they knew was that the Pharaoh didn't like the Hittites. But they didn't particularly dislike the Hebrews.
These tribes from Asia had settled in Egypt for a long time, and many were not much different from Egyptians anymore.
It was said that these Asians lived in uninhabitable places—areas with scarce water, overlapping mountains, many roads but poor accessibility.
They didn't understand the idea of settlement. To them, wherever there was food was home.
They delighted in wandering, ambushing, and looting—like crocodiles lurking in the dark, preying on unsuspecting people who wandered into remote places.
So who could really blame them for their unsavory habits? After all, these were vices passed down from their ancestors, and they had improved considerably by now.
Even as the Hittites grew sharper in military strength and more aggressive in attitude toward Egypt, the Egyptians retained the confidence of a great power.
They did not take out their frustrations on other Asians.
Most importantly, the Pharaoh had not altered his father's foreign policy—still striving to maintain non-aggression with the Hittites.
At present, the Egyptians were still unaware of the Hittites' determination to dominate the civilized world.
The Pharaoh was now in Lower Egypt, developing the new capital named after himself.
The nobles were pleased but also uneasy.
They were happy because the nation had become stable enough to support such a grand project, but uneasy because the chosen site for the capital was near the northeastern frontier at Avaris—clearly a statement by the Pharaoh of his stance toward the Hittites: not one inch of land would be yielded.
It also facilitated military mobilization.
And this place—Avaris—was the very location.
The land here was fertile, the fields wide, the pastures lush.
The Nile flowed endlessly, accompanied by a gentle breeze.
One could labor while admiring the beautiful riverside scenery. The Egyptians had once fought bitter, protracted battles here to expel the Hyksos.
But now, the once-great city had only a few houses and a temple of Set remaining.
It had become just a small town. If not for being the birthplace of the Ramesses family and the Pharaoh's decision to build his new capital here, it would have remained a forgotten corner.
The town slumbered beneath the sun. A few minor local officials with little future prospects rested in their houses, while the farmers and papyrus harvesters worked under the scorching sun.
Compared to the farmers, the harvesters were slightly better off since they were closer to the Nile.
One harvester was beginning a new round of cutting. He had already harvested several patches of papyrus and was now expanding to a new area.
This plant, which grew abundantly along the Nile in Lower Egypt, was extremely useful to the Egyptians.
Papyrus paper, essential for the nobility, was made from it.
Humming a tune, the harvester waded through the water to a new papyrus patch and began cutting again.
But today, he had an unexpected find.
His foot bumped into something.
Years of work told him immediately—he had hit a person.
The Nile was the river of life, but it wasn't uncommon for someone to drown in it.
It was also normal for lazy folks to nap in the thick papyrus to escape the heat—especially in Egypt, where people often bathed in the Nile for leisure.
The Egyptian worker quickly parted the yet-to-be-cut papyrus in front of him—and sure enough, there was a person in the water.
It was a teenage boy—likely already an adult.
Though he was floating in the water, his face was above the surface, supported by the papyrus—clearly, just a lazy sleeper.
The worker felt a bit annoyed. He was working himself to the bone, and this guy was slacking off.
But his anger quickly faded, as he realized this boy was neither Egyptian nor Asian.
The boy's clothes were strange—and even a bit too much for Egypt's climate.
"Seh! Come take a look!" the worker called out to a companion.
"What is it?" The nearby workers all looked over.
"There's a foreigner here," the worker shouted. "Looks like he drowned."
The workers gathered quickly, alarming the overseer.
"Move! Move!" the overseer stormed over angrily. If they weren't in the water, he would've kicked their lazy behinds already. "No slacking! Get back to work!"
He yelled several times, but the workers didn't return to work. Instead, they kept staring. Furious, he raised his whip.
The gesture snapped the workers out of their trance, and they hurriedly reported:
"Master Shari, we found a foreigner."
"A foreigner?"
The overseer, named Shari, was a burly man.
It was said he was once a noble in the capital but had been whipped and exiled here after offending the powerful.
He had a bad temper and took pleasure in bullying others—especially slaves of Asian origin.
Shari shoved aside the workers blocking his path and stepped into the papyrus-filled water.
He saw the boy in the water too.
"Ha? What kind of filthy pig is this!" he cursed and raised his whip, ready to strike down.
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