In the Great Hall of Stars in the Royal Palace, rose-granite columns rose until they vanished into a ceiling painted with constellations that seemed to turn slowly beneath the torchlight.
"The desolation has passed. The evil the gods warned me of through dreams has come, but the light of DiptsurRá has risen upon us. Now, tell me of the other troubles…" Pharaoh Uras addressed his subjects.
Vizier Rekhnéss bowed near the steps.
"The allocation was successful, as you ordered, Pharaoh. Each one is returning to their place of origin." He lifted his head. "Let no one say that Uras'Diptsur is not the son of the Living God! Your courage has saved us all."
"Hail! The divine sun reigns over the world!" rose General Nakhti-Sen, chief of the royal guard, standing near the vizier. He had been one of the men constantly at the pharaoh's side since Kharvathar's fall. "The disturbances do not diminish the sovereign's glory. But, as you command, my lord, I shall speak. The legions have reported several attacks by dune jackals and lions, and ill-seen creatures. Messages requesting aid have come from caravans heading to other cities and those returning."
Uras noted the strangeness—such creatures did not usually attack at this time—but he attributed it to the mass exodus of people from the city.
"Furthermore, my lord," the vizier continued after a cough, "the scribes who examined the Nyhil'o River report it has risen approximately one hand's breadth above the expected level for this lunar season." Uras glanced aside; the hall was open, and an artificial canal could be seen. The breeze carried the gentle sound of water rising against the stone docks. The river was more agitated and fuller than normal. Yet he recalled similar occurrences in the past; to him, it might be something near the river's source—a mere coincidence with current events.
Priest Ameinemhat offered the solution:
"A sacrifice to the gods, my faraó. After all they have done for us, they must be recompensed."
Uras looked at him.
"Indeed," the pharaoh replied, trying to relax his shoulders. "To please them. Yes, sacrifices." He tapped his ivory staff; he was tense. With his other arm—elbow resting on the throne—he rubbed his temples with his fingers.
"Tell me more of the destruction…" the pharaoh ordered.
"The destruction at the eastern obelisk caused further great damage in nearby areas, my lord. But it was contained," the general answered.
"That is why sacrifices are necessary—along with its swift reconstruction," the priest insisted. "That pillar connects our city to paradise. Perhaps its loss is why these things are happening, Pharaoh."
Uras'Diptsur agreed. His dreams flashed through his mind. His skin prickled; he had dreamed of this many times, as though living it. Kharvathar would burn everything in flames, but something—fortunately—had prevented it. He sighed; now he had other problems to resolve.
"And the other districts, General?" Uras asked his soldier.
"The fire, my lord… we followed your idea, but it was unnecessary. It simply… vanished abruptly."
That surprised Uras. Why the fire had disappeared so suddenly in an area so prone to spreading was strange. But he had no answer.
"Vizier Rekhnéss, summon the engineers, mathematicians, and all those of wisdom for the obelisk's reconstruction. Keep me informed of everything." He struck the staff on the floor. Work must resume. "Priest Ameinemhat, begin preparations for the sacrifices and send someone to summon Priestess Neftraya—I must speak with her."
Both men departed the hall. The general remained, awaiting his sovereign's order.
"General, I want you to tell your men to stay alert."
"Regarding… the creature, my lord?" Unlike the priest and vizier—who had only heard roars and destruction—Nakhti had witnessed Kharvathar's power and the outcome of the conflict with the elves. Uras had withheld explanations from the others, merely stating that all was over.
"Regarding the elves. They will come to kill the creature—I am certain. What remains is whether we will have to defend ourselves against them…" the pharaoh explained.
As chief of the royal guard, Nakhti possessed information—including on the elves and the ancient alliance between their peoples.
"I want you to send messenger falcons to all my domains again," the pharaoh continued. "We may be nearing war. But avoid details—simply prepare them for their sovereign's call."
The general nodded and awaited dismissal, but Uras looked into his eyes and asked:
"In your opinion, General—did I make the right choice?" The pharaoh knew this decision would change everything from now on. Yet his faith told him it was the divine will, while reason sought consolation.
"My Pharaoh," the general replied firmly, "in my opinion, it was a wise decision."
Uras looked at him; there was no flattery in his words. He trusted Nakhti—a man with great deeds against nomads and eastern and northern kingdoms.
"But," the general continued, "if I may offer counsel: imprison the elf."
Uras' eyes widened slightly. He remembered that Ishara had indeed remained. Ameinemhat had told him she had gone to care for Setarek. The pharaoh quickly grasped his general's strategy.
"I recognize it is an interesting idea. The daughter of Thswoner could be our guarantee." He pondered. "But she has been exiled…"
"Would you allow Setarek to die if he were exiled in another realm, my lord?" the general asked boldly. Uras understood; both were fathers and would do anything for their children. 'But is an elf the same?' Uras thought, scratching his chin.
"The problem is Setarek—she is my son's friend. And imprisoning her in return for her aid would be an affront. We will not do that. Nevertheless, I will try to speak with her. Perhaps the anger from her people's expulsion can be turned to our advantage…" the pharaoh concluded.
"It shall be done, my lord," the general bowed.
"Now go." The pharaoh ordered. The man nodded, bowed, and walked out of the hall.