"Go to my chambers—you need to rest," Setarek said to Ishara. He had noticed her exhaustion while she informed him of everything that had happened after he was defeated. "Besides, my father probably will not want to see you." He added, anger rising at the thought.
"Very well, you are right. Just do not say anything you will regret." Her brown lips formed a faint smile. Setarek liked that smile.
After she left, Setarek turned down the corridor, arriving at the gate to the royal hall. The soldiers brightened at seeing him—they had received word that he had been near death.
"The gods would not let me die," the prince told them.
When the men opened the gate, Setarek saw General Nakhti-Sen walking toward the exit, and his father seated upon the throne. He saw the pharaoh rise, but the prince kept his eyes on the general.
"The gods must love you, Highness," Nakhti said with a smile as he approached the gate. The prince returned it.
"They took pity," Setarek replied, still feeling shame over his defeat.
"Enough of that. You were the bravest of all. The Most High see it. Who else would stand before…" He let the sentence die as their eyes met. He placed a hand on the young man's shoulder and finished:
"Now I must go. I am glad for your recovery. We will protect our home." The prince nodded and bid farewell. The gate closed behind him, leaving him alone with his father in the hall.
Though the vizier and scribes had already directed everyone to their duties, the hall was empty—the pharaoh had wanted solitude. Uras walked toward his son, smiling with joy.
"My son! By Izhis, I feared for your life every second." Uras opened his arms. He had seen his son's bravery against the dragon and his near-death at the creature's hands.
Setarek's face, however, did not mirror his father's. The prince walked forward but stopped, refusing the embrace, a few meters away.
"Why did you betray our greatest allies, Father?" The young man went straight to the point. Uras'Diptsur's smile faded slowly.
"Setarek… this was my decision, as pharaoh, for the good of our people. Let us leave it for later," Uras replied, straightening his posture.
To the prince, it sounded like a joke.
"For the good of the people? You simply abandoned the alliance with the most powerful people on earth while bowing to a creature of Chaos that came to kill us?" The young man exclaimed loudly, approaching a side table and kicking it. Jugs of water and wine, along with cups, lamps, and plates, flew and crashed against the columns. He continued:
"…Allowing an abomination from the underworld to live while those blessed by the gods were expelled from our land?"
"Calm yourself, boy," Uras interjected against his son's fury. He looked at him seriously but calmly. "You are not speaking only to your father, but to the leader of the most powerful empire on earth. If I made this decision, it was because I believed it right."
They stared at each other. Setarek exhaled, turning his face away, unable to meet Uras' gaze.
"Do you not want to hear the reason first, before accusing your father of high treason?" Uras asked, turning his back and walking straight to the throne.
Setarek snorted silently and followed. Uras sat upon the throne, gripping the staff and scepter as if to remind his son who he was.
The prince stopped at the foot of the steps, arms crossed behind his back, staring directly at his father. A strong wind entered through the hall's opening. Not all torches were lit, leaving the space partially dark.
"Why?" the young man asked. The leader met his subject's eyes and answered:
"Khemet has become a prosperous world without the elves' help." He raised the scepter, a smile forming on his lips.
"The grand Saharekh… that is what they were called. An ancient term—perhaps they no longer call themselves that. Though 'ancient' for them is but a short time."
Setarek remained silent, and Uras continued:
"But the glory of our new home has not always been as it is now, and I believe you know that after all the lessons you received since childhood."
"They must have their reasons," Setarek contested. "Their purpose is—"
"Reasons? Do you know how many creatures have threatened our home since my father's father and beyond? How many dangers from the east we faced to consolidate peace and protection for our people?" The pharaoh pointed the scepter at his son, leaning forward as if to rise from the throne.
"And you answer all those conquests by allowing a malevolent creature to remain here?" The prince's face remained nearly impassive. He understood that in this moment he was not speaking as a son. Uras threw the staff to the floor and rose.
"They swore to come to our aid!" the pharaoh raised his voice. "The great promise, the great alliance. The union of their Goddess with our gods. Marvelous! A grand story—and a grand lie!" The pharaoh returned a stern gaze to his son and continued:
"Who helped them when they 'weakened'? Who protected the desert borders of the Goddess? It was our lineage, Setarek—our ancestors." Uras descended the steps, breathing heavily. He then placed his hand over his son's eyes.
"Now answer me: which people died when the monsters returned? Which people died when enemies from the east and north crossed the sea?" The pharaoh asked rhetorically. "Tell me, son. Which kingdom would burn in flames when the winged creature appeared in the skies? The cities of upper and lower Khemet, the city of our people, or the great canyons protected by elven sorcery?"
The pharaoh's expression calmed. He placed his hand on Setarek's face. The young man remained quiet, staring at his father.
"They would use our destruction as a chance to eliminate the creature, because its mere existence threatens them. That dragon hates them, son—not us. Its true fury is against them."
Uras stepped back and returned to the throne, laughing softly.
"And how did our God answer? He transformed the creature, altered it, gave it reason and our form—because He wanted the demon on our side." Uras sat again, closing his eyes, wanting to believe faithfully in his last words. Then he met his son's gaze once more and finished:
"I did what our gods willed, my son. You will understand when you take my place."
Setarek lowered his face slightly; he could understand his father better now. But the prince believed he knew the elves better.
"I understand your choice, Pharaoh. But I cannot concur—"
"I do not want you to concur, Setarek. I want you to accept it and not question." Uras'Diptsur had convinced himself that what he had done was right.
"That is not what my father taught me," the prince objected, surprised.
"But it is what your leader commands." They stared at each other. Setarek shook his head slightly in disbelief.
"The man I admired recognized the importance of the laws of the past, of trust toward sacred beings, of prudence in divine mediations, and of humility before life's certainties." The prince spoke calmly, surprisingly so. "He knew how to recognize evil when he saw it, and I am certain he would tell me that the evil does not lie with the elves—but with the creature he allowed to remain in his realm."
Suddenly a strong wind entered the hall, but neither faltered in their gaze. Uras remained silent, gripping the arms of his black-gold throne inlaid with desert turquoise.
"Yet it seems I no longer see that man," Setarek bowed and concluded: "May the pharaoh grant me permission to leave, and may the gods bless your night."
Setarek did not wait for his father to speak. He turned his back and walked away. Uras watched in silence as his son departed. He thought of ordering him to stop, but pridefully decided against it.