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When the cat broke free, all chaos broke loose, as if Pandora had opened her great box of secrets once more. Perhaps a heretical thought in a monotheistic land, but the Hebrews couldn’t read thoughts, now could they?
Callidora realized her inner monologue was a bit ridiculous, considering the circumstances, but it was better than zeroing in on the terror caused by the cat’s escape. If she focused too hard on that very real danger, she feared she would lose heart. Then again, Dora wasn’t exactly the cowardly sort. She had lived through storms at sea, pirate attacks, a sinking ship, muggings, brawls—yes, this animal was large and dangerous, but the merchant’s wife had faced worse. As it was, they were far enough away that chances were the beast wouldn’t catch up to them.
The real danger now laid in not getting trampled by the crowd.
Several times, Hannah almost fell in the ruckus, Dora doing her best to catch the slight woman before she was ground into the dust. A number of times, the Grecian woman nearly fell with her, and it was only her husband’s quick reflexes that saved them both. Had he been strong enough, he contemplated tossing one over each shoulder, but even a life hardened at sea hadn’t equipped him for such a feat, especially not when one wrong step could bring all three of them to the ground. As it was, he simply did his best to ensure neither woman succumbed to the buffeting of the crowd around them.
Just as Hannah did, Callidora kept glancing back to assure herself they were clear of the danger, the sight of a woman running up and stabbing it only seeming to enrage it more. The foreign woman managed to separate herself as the cat tore free, but others were not quite so lucky. Tearing one of its unfortunate handlers to shreds, the Grand Shuk soon ran red with blood—the cat’s muzzle stained and dripping with the sanguine fluid. Another mighty roar practically shook the ground as it leapt for its next target.
“I hope your God can help us, Hannah, because I’m not sure any of mine can,” Dora responded to the half-heard murmur, shaking her head in worry. “Come on, we have to keep going.”
That was a task easier said than done, the tight press of bodies slowing their progress to a crawl. Were there no guards to attend to this mess, or had they judged the danger too great and run with the crowd themselves? Whatever it was, it seemed like they were destined to save themselves, and help would not be forthcoming any time soon.
And yet… was it starting to slow down? Glancing back again, Callidora was almost sure of it, the beast’s movements turning more sluggish as it went after its prey. Slowing down or not, they still needed to get out, and she wasn’t about to turn back around.
Hopefully, there were others out there that would…
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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When the cat broke free, all chaos broke loose, as if Pandora had opened her great box of secrets once more. Perhaps a heretical thought in a monotheistic land, but the Hebrews couldn’t read thoughts, now could they?
Callidora realized her inner monologue was a bit ridiculous, considering the circumstances, but it was better than zeroing in on the terror caused by the cat’s escape. If she focused too hard on that very real danger, she feared she would lose heart. Then again, Dora wasn’t exactly the cowardly sort. She had lived through storms at sea, pirate attacks, a sinking ship, muggings, brawls—yes, this animal was large and dangerous, but the merchant’s wife had faced worse. As it was, they were far enough away that chances were the beast wouldn’t catch up to them.
The real danger now laid in not getting trampled by the crowd.
Several times, Hannah almost fell in the ruckus, Dora doing her best to catch the slight woman before she was ground into the dust. A number of times, the Grecian woman nearly fell with her, and it was only her husband’s quick reflexes that saved them both. Had he been strong enough, he contemplated tossing one over each shoulder, but even a life hardened at sea hadn’t equipped him for such a feat, especially not when one wrong step could bring all three of them to the ground. As it was, he simply did his best to ensure neither woman succumbed to the buffeting of the crowd around them.
Just as Hannah did, Callidora kept glancing back to assure herself they were clear of the danger, the sight of a woman running up and stabbing it only seeming to enrage it more. The foreign woman managed to separate herself as the cat tore free, but others were not quite so lucky. Tearing one of its unfortunate handlers to shreds, the Grand Shuk soon ran red with blood—the cat’s muzzle stained and dripping with the sanguine fluid. Another mighty roar practically shook the ground as it leapt for its next target.
“I hope your God can help us, Hannah, because I’m not sure any of mine can,” Dora responded to the half-heard murmur, shaking her head in worry. “Come on, we have to keep going.”
That was a task easier said than done, the tight press of bodies slowing their progress to a crawl. Were there no guards to attend to this mess, or had they judged the danger too great and run with the crowd themselves? Whatever it was, it seemed like they were destined to save themselves, and help would not be forthcoming any time soon.
And yet… was it starting to slow down? Glancing back again, Callidora was almost sure of it, the beast’s movements turning more sluggish as it went after its prey. Slowing down or not, they still needed to get out, and she wasn’t about to turn back around.
Hopefully, there were others out there that would…
When the cat broke free, all chaos broke loose, as if Pandora had opened her great box of secrets once more. Perhaps a heretical thought in a monotheistic land, but the Hebrews couldn’t read thoughts, now could they?
Callidora realized her inner monologue was a bit ridiculous, considering the circumstances, but it was better than zeroing in on the terror caused by the cat’s escape. If she focused too hard on that very real danger, she feared she would lose heart. Then again, Dora wasn’t exactly the cowardly sort. She had lived through storms at sea, pirate attacks, a sinking ship, muggings, brawls—yes, this animal was large and dangerous, but the merchant’s wife had faced worse. As it was, they were far enough away that chances were the beast wouldn’t catch up to them.
The real danger now laid in not getting trampled by the crowd.
Several times, Hannah almost fell in the ruckus, Dora doing her best to catch the slight woman before she was ground into the dust. A number of times, the Grecian woman nearly fell with her, and it was only her husband’s quick reflexes that saved them both. Had he been strong enough, he contemplated tossing one over each shoulder, but even a life hardened at sea hadn’t equipped him for such a feat, especially not when one wrong step could bring all three of them to the ground. As it was, he simply did his best to ensure neither woman succumbed to the buffeting of the crowd around them.
Just as Hannah did, Callidora kept glancing back to assure herself they were clear of the danger, the sight of a woman running up and stabbing it only seeming to enrage it more. The foreign woman managed to separate herself as the cat tore free, but others were not quite so lucky. Tearing one of its unfortunate handlers to shreds, the Grand Shuk soon ran red with blood—the cat’s muzzle stained and dripping with the sanguine fluid. Another mighty roar practically shook the ground as it leapt for its next target.
“I hope your God can help us, Hannah, because I’m not sure any of mine can,” Dora responded to the half-heard murmur, shaking her head in worry. “Come on, we have to keep going.”
That was a task easier said than done, the tight press of bodies slowing their progress to a crawl. Were there no guards to attend to this mess, or had they judged the danger too great and run with the crowd themselves? Whatever it was, it seemed like they were destined to save themselves, and help would not be forthcoming any time soon.
And yet… was it starting to slow down? Glancing back again, Callidora was almost sure of it, the beast’s movements turning more sluggish as it went after its prey. Slowing down or not, they still needed to get out, and she wasn’t about to turn back around.
Hopefully, there were others out there that would…
Chaos was the greatest thing to experience. Where others felt fear in the presence of the beast that could so easily rip them asunder, Amenemhat felt exhilaration. He knew that it was not his time to perish, he knew from experience that these beasts did not divert their attention so easily and it seemed rather intent on taking some other soul to the afterlife.
Kesi was an obedient girl, and moved away from him as quickly as he commanded it. He expected her to simply draw the reed she used to propel darts... Did she not bring it with her? Nem almost audibly groaned at the idea of her needing to draw closer. But, he remained muted, keeping himself with Miri as a smile cast upon his lips. He assured the fortune teller with his calm demeanor, bringing a hand to her shoulder before he said,
"Kesi and I have been through this before. She'll be just fine," he assured before he turned back towards the scene as it unfolded.
Blood.
It was a lovely thing to see, as it spurted from the jugular of a hapless innocent, as it dyed the pelt of the tiger, the black and orange stripes, crimson. The yellowed teeth the beast tore at the body with... it seemed hungry, a sort of feral want that came par for the course with its captivity, but also made Nem wonder if it was being fed properly. It was as if these men were asking to be killed, capturing this beast and giving it none of the due deference of its majesty. Amenemhat, if he had his way, would treat the best correctly.
Or rather, Hamidi would. The strong-willed and powerful Bedoan man that owed Nem his life was a master of these predator cats, excellent at twisting them to his will and bringing performance out of them. They were expensive to maintain, and Nem felt it with every month that he paid his expenses. But, they were worth it. Just as the Tempest Clique brought those from all across Africa who aspired to see them, the beasts of the Tempest of Set had their own allure.
Feed, let that blood course through your veins. Kesi's poison works better the faster your heart beats, he knew, a chuckle so threatening to escape Nem's lips. He disliked Judea, and came here by necessity in an effort to secure the superior fabric and tailors that could turn that fabric into the costumes he and his kin wore... And yet, he was enjoying himself here and now more than he had in a while, yet.
The beast turned its attention to one of its handlers next, and more blood was let, more incompetent crimson to stain the exquisite coat the tiger wore. It didn't bode well, for it to be so disgusting, but if it made the beast more suited to sale... Hamidi could do with the extra task of bathing it and returning the colour to its pelt. Besides, the greater number of losses that the handlers suffered, the easier his negotiations for the creature would be later on. He wasn't keen on drawing closer just yet. He gave the poison more time to work before he decided to at last approach the beast.
More and more casualties would just result in more drastic measures being taken. While the guards in Judea weren't so heavily armed as those in other nations, the work of a dozen men would ensure that Amenemhat's prize didn't live to see the night. Amenemhat hummed in thought before he lifted his arm to his own chest. The fabric tore apart at his insistence, and he wrapped it about his fist before he drew closer to the beast. It slowed down, more and more, but certainly even as sight such as him would catch the tiger's attention.
"Stay back, Miri."
More so than the women and smaller men that the tiger seemed intent to prey upon, Amenemhat was a feast. With his tunic torn, his figure was all the more visible, broad shoulders and a muscled body standing upright and tall before he leaned forward, bending his knees as a chuckle caught on his lips. He wasn't usually without Hamidi or another beast tamer when he sought to act as bait, but the waning time this creature would remain conscious for would certainly serve to his benefit.
"Come to me, beast. Surely, you'll have your fill if your teeth find their path," he beckoned it in Coptic. In his chest, the hammering pulse of his heart met with a wave of adrenaline that coursed through his waves. When the beast turned, it flung itself forth, and Nem timed his response. He ducked beneath it, skidding on the dirt before turning his body, holding the ripped fabric ahead of him. He'd use it, in the right moment, to blind the beast and subdue it as the poison worked to weaken it sufficiently.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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Chaos was the greatest thing to experience. Where others felt fear in the presence of the beast that could so easily rip them asunder, Amenemhat felt exhilaration. He knew that it was not his time to perish, he knew from experience that these beasts did not divert their attention so easily and it seemed rather intent on taking some other soul to the afterlife.
Kesi was an obedient girl, and moved away from him as quickly as he commanded it. He expected her to simply draw the reed she used to propel darts... Did she not bring it with her? Nem almost audibly groaned at the idea of her needing to draw closer. But, he remained muted, keeping himself with Miri as a smile cast upon his lips. He assured the fortune teller with his calm demeanor, bringing a hand to her shoulder before he said,
"Kesi and I have been through this before. She'll be just fine," he assured before he turned back towards the scene as it unfolded.
Blood.
It was a lovely thing to see, as it spurted from the jugular of a hapless innocent, as it dyed the pelt of the tiger, the black and orange stripes, crimson. The yellowed teeth the beast tore at the body with... it seemed hungry, a sort of feral want that came par for the course with its captivity, but also made Nem wonder if it was being fed properly. It was as if these men were asking to be killed, capturing this beast and giving it none of the due deference of its majesty. Amenemhat, if he had his way, would treat the best correctly.
Or rather, Hamidi would. The strong-willed and powerful Bedoan man that owed Nem his life was a master of these predator cats, excellent at twisting them to his will and bringing performance out of them. They were expensive to maintain, and Nem felt it with every month that he paid his expenses. But, they were worth it. Just as the Tempest Clique brought those from all across Africa who aspired to see them, the beasts of the Tempest of Set had their own allure.
Feed, let that blood course through your veins. Kesi's poison works better the faster your heart beats, he knew, a chuckle so threatening to escape Nem's lips. He disliked Judea, and came here by necessity in an effort to secure the superior fabric and tailors that could turn that fabric into the costumes he and his kin wore... And yet, he was enjoying himself here and now more than he had in a while, yet.
The beast turned its attention to one of its handlers next, and more blood was let, more incompetent crimson to stain the exquisite coat the tiger wore. It didn't bode well, for it to be so disgusting, but if it made the beast more suited to sale... Hamidi could do with the extra task of bathing it and returning the colour to its pelt. Besides, the greater number of losses that the handlers suffered, the easier his negotiations for the creature would be later on. He wasn't keen on drawing closer just yet. He gave the poison more time to work before he decided to at last approach the beast.
More and more casualties would just result in more drastic measures being taken. While the guards in Judea weren't so heavily armed as those in other nations, the work of a dozen men would ensure that Amenemhat's prize didn't live to see the night. Amenemhat hummed in thought before he lifted his arm to his own chest. The fabric tore apart at his insistence, and he wrapped it about his fist before he drew closer to the beast. It slowed down, more and more, but certainly even as sight such as him would catch the tiger's attention.
"Stay back, Miri."
More so than the women and smaller men that the tiger seemed intent to prey upon, Amenemhat was a feast. With his tunic torn, his figure was all the more visible, broad shoulders and a muscled body standing upright and tall before he leaned forward, bending his knees as a chuckle caught on his lips. He wasn't usually without Hamidi or another beast tamer when he sought to act as bait, but the waning time this creature would remain conscious for would certainly serve to his benefit.
"Come to me, beast. Surely, you'll have your fill if your teeth find their path," he beckoned it in Coptic. In his chest, the hammering pulse of his heart met with a wave of adrenaline that coursed through his waves. When the beast turned, it flung itself forth, and Nem timed his response. He ducked beneath it, skidding on the dirt before turning his body, holding the ripped fabric ahead of him. He'd use it, in the right moment, to blind the beast and subdue it as the poison worked to weaken it sufficiently.
Chaos was the greatest thing to experience. Where others felt fear in the presence of the beast that could so easily rip them asunder, Amenemhat felt exhilaration. He knew that it was not his time to perish, he knew from experience that these beasts did not divert their attention so easily and it seemed rather intent on taking some other soul to the afterlife.
Kesi was an obedient girl, and moved away from him as quickly as he commanded it. He expected her to simply draw the reed she used to propel darts... Did she not bring it with her? Nem almost audibly groaned at the idea of her needing to draw closer. But, he remained muted, keeping himself with Miri as a smile cast upon his lips. He assured the fortune teller with his calm demeanor, bringing a hand to her shoulder before he said,
"Kesi and I have been through this before. She'll be just fine," he assured before he turned back towards the scene as it unfolded.
Blood.
It was a lovely thing to see, as it spurted from the jugular of a hapless innocent, as it dyed the pelt of the tiger, the black and orange stripes, crimson. The yellowed teeth the beast tore at the body with... it seemed hungry, a sort of feral want that came par for the course with its captivity, but also made Nem wonder if it was being fed properly. It was as if these men were asking to be killed, capturing this beast and giving it none of the due deference of its majesty. Amenemhat, if he had his way, would treat the best correctly.
Or rather, Hamidi would. The strong-willed and powerful Bedoan man that owed Nem his life was a master of these predator cats, excellent at twisting them to his will and bringing performance out of them. They were expensive to maintain, and Nem felt it with every month that he paid his expenses. But, they were worth it. Just as the Tempest Clique brought those from all across Africa who aspired to see them, the beasts of the Tempest of Set had their own allure.
Feed, let that blood course through your veins. Kesi's poison works better the faster your heart beats, he knew, a chuckle so threatening to escape Nem's lips. He disliked Judea, and came here by necessity in an effort to secure the superior fabric and tailors that could turn that fabric into the costumes he and his kin wore... And yet, he was enjoying himself here and now more than he had in a while, yet.
The beast turned its attention to one of its handlers next, and more blood was let, more incompetent crimson to stain the exquisite coat the tiger wore. It didn't bode well, for it to be so disgusting, but if it made the beast more suited to sale... Hamidi could do with the extra task of bathing it and returning the colour to its pelt. Besides, the greater number of losses that the handlers suffered, the easier his negotiations for the creature would be later on. He wasn't keen on drawing closer just yet. He gave the poison more time to work before he decided to at last approach the beast.
More and more casualties would just result in more drastic measures being taken. While the guards in Judea weren't so heavily armed as those in other nations, the work of a dozen men would ensure that Amenemhat's prize didn't live to see the night. Amenemhat hummed in thought before he lifted his arm to his own chest. The fabric tore apart at his insistence, and he wrapped it about his fist before he drew closer to the beast. It slowed down, more and more, but certainly even as sight such as him would catch the tiger's attention.
"Stay back, Miri."
More so than the women and smaller men that the tiger seemed intent to prey upon, Amenemhat was a feast. With his tunic torn, his figure was all the more visible, broad shoulders and a muscled body standing upright and tall before he leaned forward, bending his knees as a chuckle caught on his lips. He wasn't usually without Hamidi or another beast tamer when he sought to act as bait, but the waning time this creature would remain conscious for would certainly serve to his benefit.
"Come to me, beast. Surely, you'll have your fill if your teeth find their path," he beckoned it in Coptic. In his chest, the hammering pulse of his heart met with a wave of adrenaline that coursed through his waves. When the beast turned, it flung itself forth, and Nem timed his response. He ducked beneath it, skidding on the dirt before turning his body, holding the ripped fabric ahead of him. He'd use it, in the right moment, to blind the beast and subdue it as the poison worked to weaken it sufficiently.
Miri had always greatly admired the art of movement. And so the scene in the Grand Shuk was a feast for her eyes in the same way the earth yearns for Ra to return each day, bringing light and fire back into the world. Her gaze fell on each moving part in turn—the writhing bodies of the tiger’s victims, the frantic, clumsy running of those who could escape. Most fascinating of all was Kesi, darting nimbly around the vengeful beast. Small and quick and incredible to watch, piercing the blood-stained creature and far away again in the same instant.
And so Miri stood, observing the chaos with Seth roaring with the tiger’s voice in her ears, completely unaffected by the screams and pleas and turmoil.
It was sweet, really, and a testament to his nature that Amenemhat worried for her. Or, at least, worried that she would be frightened. “I know she will be,” Miri smiled wryly, folding her arms. “Kesi’s story will not end in a bloody marketplace and a starving tiger. Nor will yours.” The gods had assured her of that, and the gods knew all. Nevertheless, the brief weight of his hand on her shoulder was a comfort in and of itself, even as he strode away from her and into chaos and destruction.
Miri did as she was told and stayed exactly where she was, chin raised, stance relaxed and unconcerned. Her eyes followed Amenemhat closely, observing the power and confidence in his every move. Like Kesi, Amenemhat was a pleasure to watch, like rippling water. Ptah infused beauty in all of his creations, especially evident in the artful movements of human bodies. The tiger was no match for him, and Kesi’s tricks seemed to be slowing its movements already.
Less artful was the way several hands seized her upper arms and dragged her backwards. Immediately, she went limp, hoping her dead weight would cause the unknown assailants to release her. But Miri was small and light, and soon her view of Amenemhat, Kesi, and the ruthless beast was obscured. She did not scream, not that anyone would have heard her over the wails of pain and fear. Her heart rate rose with surprise, but the gods whispered nothing that made her think she was in any real danger. Undignified, murmured Sekhmet, and that was all. Dragged through the retreating crowd like a sack of grain, they finally came to a stop in an alleyway mostly clear of panic, though fingers were still gripping her arms, hard.
Twisting her head to stare at the two unknown men—both of whom were panting hard, eyes wild with fear—Miri did nothing but raise her eyebrows. “You will release me,” she stated, with no force behind her words, though it was clearly not a request.
They did not do so, instead screwing up their eyes in confusion and concern. “Are you alright?” one asked in Hebrew, and Miri suddenly knew that they thought her crazy, or stupid. She might have looked it: standing still in a stampede, near a beast of devastating capabilities. Miri sighed heavily, craning her neck to try to spot either of her companions. The screaming continued, but she could no longer hear the roaring, which was promising. As soon as they completed their business, if she could not get away, they would come to find her. “I am perfectly fine,” she replied, not sparing them another glance. “Sane too,” she added after a moment, rolling her eyes internally.
The pair spluttered for a while, clearly unsure what to do with a sixteen-year-old who seemed perfectly content to stay in the vicinity of a dangerous animal. “You will not be fine, soon,” Miri yawned, turning again to stare into each of their eyes. It sounded ominous, but they refused to take her seriously anyway, and her words would still ring true. Amenemhat would be most displeased with the men who had unceremoniously dragged his translator away. There would be bruises on her arms by morning, and still they gripped her. “What are you waiting for? Release me.”
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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Miri had always greatly admired the art of movement. And so the scene in the Grand Shuk was a feast for her eyes in the same way the earth yearns for Ra to return each day, bringing light and fire back into the world. Her gaze fell on each moving part in turn—the writhing bodies of the tiger’s victims, the frantic, clumsy running of those who could escape. Most fascinating of all was Kesi, darting nimbly around the vengeful beast. Small and quick and incredible to watch, piercing the blood-stained creature and far away again in the same instant.
And so Miri stood, observing the chaos with Seth roaring with the tiger’s voice in her ears, completely unaffected by the screams and pleas and turmoil.
It was sweet, really, and a testament to his nature that Amenemhat worried for her. Or, at least, worried that she would be frightened. “I know she will be,” Miri smiled wryly, folding her arms. “Kesi’s story will not end in a bloody marketplace and a starving tiger. Nor will yours.” The gods had assured her of that, and the gods knew all. Nevertheless, the brief weight of his hand on her shoulder was a comfort in and of itself, even as he strode away from her and into chaos and destruction.
Miri did as she was told and stayed exactly where she was, chin raised, stance relaxed and unconcerned. Her eyes followed Amenemhat closely, observing the power and confidence in his every move. Like Kesi, Amenemhat was a pleasure to watch, like rippling water. Ptah infused beauty in all of his creations, especially evident in the artful movements of human bodies. The tiger was no match for him, and Kesi’s tricks seemed to be slowing its movements already.
Less artful was the way several hands seized her upper arms and dragged her backwards. Immediately, she went limp, hoping her dead weight would cause the unknown assailants to release her. But Miri was small and light, and soon her view of Amenemhat, Kesi, and the ruthless beast was obscured. She did not scream, not that anyone would have heard her over the wails of pain and fear. Her heart rate rose with surprise, but the gods whispered nothing that made her think she was in any real danger. Undignified, murmured Sekhmet, and that was all. Dragged through the retreating crowd like a sack of grain, they finally came to a stop in an alleyway mostly clear of panic, though fingers were still gripping her arms, hard.
Twisting her head to stare at the two unknown men—both of whom were panting hard, eyes wild with fear—Miri did nothing but raise her eyebrows. “You will release me,” she stated, with no force behind her words, though it was clearly not a request.
They did not do so, instead screwing up their eyes in confusion and concern. “Are you alright?” one asked in Hebrew, and Miri suddenly knew that they thought her crazy, or stupid. She might have looked it: standing still in a stampede, near a beast of devastating capabilities. Miri sighed heavily, craning her neck to try to spot either of her companions. The screaming continued, but she could no longer hear the roaring, which was promising. As soon as they completed their business, if she could not get away, they would come to find her. “I am perfectly fine,” she replied, not sparing them another glance. “Sane too,” she added after a moment, rolling her eyes internally.
The pair spluttered for a while, clearly unsure what to do with a sixteen-year-old who seemed perfectly content to stay in the vicinity of a dangerous animal. “You will not be fine, soon,” Miri yawned, turning again to stare into each of their eyes. It sounded ominous, but they refused to take her seriously anyway, and her words would still ring true. Amenemhat would be most displeased with the men who had unceremoniously dragged his translator away. There would be bruises on her arms by morning, and still they gripped her. “What are you waiting for? Release me.”
Miri had always greatly admired the art of movement. And so the scene in the Grand Shuk was a feast for her eyes in the same way the earth yearns for Ra to return each day, bringing light and fire back into the world. Her gaze fell on each moving part in turn—the writhing bodies of the tiger’s victims, the frantic, clumsy running of those who could escape. Most fascinating of all was Kesi, darting nimbly around the vengeful beast. Small and quick and incredible to watch, piercing the blood-stained creature and far away again in the same instant.
And so Miri stood, observing the chaos with Seth roaring with the tiger’s voice in her ears, completely unaffected by the screams and pleas and turmoil.
It was sweet, really, and a testament to his nature that Amenemhat worried for her. Or, at least, worried that she would be frightened. “I know she will be,” Miri smiled wryly, folding her arms. “Kesi’s story will not end in a bloody marketplace and a starving tiger. Nor will yours.” The gods had assured her of that, and the gods knew all. Nevertheless, the brief weight of his hand on her shoulder was a comfort in and of itself, even as he strode away from her and into chaos and destruction.
Miri did as she was told and stayed exactly where she was, chin raised, stance relaxed and unconcerned. Her eyes followed Amenemhat closely, observing the power and confidence in his every move. Like Kesi, Amenemhat was a pleasure to watch, like rippling water. Ptah infused beauty in all of his creations, especially evident in the artful movements of human bodies. The tiger was no match for him, and Kesi’s tricks seemed to be slowing its movements already.
Less artful was the way several hands seized her upper arms and dragged her backwards. Immediately, she went limp, hoping her dead weight would cause the unknown assailants to release her. But Miri was small and light, and soon her view of Amenemhat, Kesi, and the ruthless beast was obscured. She did not scream, not that anyone would have heard her over the wails of pain and fear. Her heart rate rose with surprise, but the gods whispered nothing that made her think she was in any real danger. Undignified, murmured Sekhmet, and that was all. Dragged through the retreating crowd like a sack of grain, they finally came to a stop in an alleyway mostly clear of panic, though fingers were still gripping her arms, hard.
Twisting her head to stare at the two unknown men—both of whom were panting hard, eyes wild with fear—Miri did nothing but raise her eyebrows. “You will release me,” she stated, with no force behind her words, though it was clearly not a request.
They did not do so, instead screwing up their eyes in confusion and concern. “Are you alright?” one asked in Hebrew, and Miri suddenly knew that they thought her crazy, or stupid. She might have looked it: standing still in a stampede, near a beast of devastating capabilities. Miri sighed heavily, craning her neck to try to spot either of her companions. The screaming continued, but she could no longer hear the roaring, which was promising. As soon as they completed their business, if she could not get away, they would come to find her. “I am perfectly fine,” she replied, not sparing them another glance. “Sane too,” she added after a moment, rolling her eyes internally.
The pair spluttered for a while, clearly unsure what to do with a sixteen-year-old who seemed perfectly content to stay in the vicinity of a dangerous animal. “You will not be fine, soon,” Miri yawned, turning again to stare into each of their eyes. It sounded ominous, but they refused to take her seriously anyway, and her words would still ring true. Amenemhat would be most displeased with the men who had unceremoniously dragged his translator away. There would be bruises on her arms by morning, and still they gripped her. “What are you waiting for? Release me.”
Blood: Kesi lived for it. The screams and cries that filled the air the tiger ripped into the innocent man were sweeter than any song that could be played. It echoed in her mind, causing a sadistic smile on her face. Oh how exciting. Judea was typically so boring. They were so quiet and conservative and they talked about some god that just didn’t exist and it was awful.
That smile faded from her face when her brother got closer. She trusted him, she knew him to be a true god, but Kesi did not like seeing him in danger. No matter how confident, no matter how cool, she wished for him to be back and be safe. Kesi would rather die, rather be ravaged by a hundred tigers, tortured until her mind broke, all so her brother could be safe and happy. She would be angry at her brother if that was something Kesi was truly capable of. Instead Kesi would be angry with Hamidi, who easily could have handled the tiger and kept her brother safe at the same time.
Once more Kesi reversed course. She ran back towards the tiger and towards her brother. Her breath caught as the tiger jumped, soring above Amenemhat. No! Kesi was seeing red. She was going to kill this tiger. If it laid a single paw on Kesi she would rip it limb from limb. She would make the tiger choke on its own blood. She wouldn’t care what the Judeans did to her after, all that mattered was that the tiger suffered. Suffered for dare harming her brother, her ringmaster, her god.
But as it landed on its feet the tiger truly began to sway. And Amenemhat threw the fabric ahead of him, blinding the tiger as it fell to the ground asleep. Relief flooded the young girl’s mind as she made her way to her brother. Prior anger was immediately forgotten. Instead she was chattering away excitedly throwing herself into a hug with her brother. “Nem did you see that?! The tiger was all cranky and then it was all like rawr! And the blood! There’s so much of it! And.. and did you see how I poked it! I remember what I was taught! Hamidi would be impressed! And then you ran up and you were way cooler than Hamidi has ever been with his cats. You handled that no- Where’s Miri?”
She let go of Nem and looked around. People still seemed panicked, only now emerging from their hiding spots now that the tiger was dealt with. But there was no sign of Miri. Kesi frowned. She wasn’t where she left the two. Her head tilted to the side. “Miri!” Kesi called out, concerned for her circus family. Her nose wrinkled. She didn’t know how to speak their language very well. Kesi learned enough to get by. “Has anyone…. Watched girl…. This tall?” Her words were all jumbled and Kesi knew to instantly give up. She looked at her brother for guidance. He would know what to do. He always did. “Maybe some strangers saw her?”
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Blood: Kesi lived for it. The screams and cries that filled the air the tiger ripped into the innocent man were sweeter than any song that could be played. It echoed in her mind, causing a sadistic smile on her face. Oh how exciting. Judea was typically so boring. They were so quiet and conservative and they talked about some god that just didn’t exist and it was awful.
That smile faded from her face when her brother got closer. She trusted him, she knew him to be a true god, but Kesi did not like seeing him in danger. No matter how confident, no matter how cool, she wished for him to be back and be safe. Kesi would rather die, rather be ravaged by a hundred tigers, tortured until her mind broke, all so her brother could be safe and happy. She would be angry at her brother if that was something Kesi was truly capable of. Instead Kesi would be angry with Hamidi, who easily could have handled the tiger and kept her brother safe at the same time.
Once more Kesi reversed course. She ran back towards the tiger and towards her brother. Her breath caught as the tiger jumped, soring above Amenemhat. No! Kesi was seeing red. She was going to kill this tiger. If it laid a single paw on Kesi she would rip it limb from limb. She would make the tiger choke on its own blood. She wouldn’t care what the Judeans did to her after, all that mattered was that the tiger suffered. Suffered for dare harming her brother, her ringmaster, her god.
But as it landed on its feet the tiger truly began to sway. And Amenemhat threw the fabric ahead of him, blinding the tiger as it fell to the ground asleep. Relief flooded the young girl’s mind as she made her way to her brother. Prior anger was immediately forgotten. Instead she was chattering away excitedly throwing herself into a hug with her brother. “Nem did you see that?! The tiger was all cranky and then it was all like rawr! And the blood! There’s so much of it! And.. and did you see how I poked it! I remember what I was taught! Hamidi would be impressed! And then you ran up and you were way cooler than Hamidi has ever been with his cats. You handled that no- Where’s Miri?”
She let go of Nem and looked around. People still seemed panicked, only now emerging from their hiding spots now that the tiger was dealt with. But there was no sign of Miri. Kesi frowned. She wasn’t where she left the two. Her head tilted to the side. “Miri!” Kesi called out, concerned for her circus family. Her nose wrinkled. She didn’t know how to speak their language very well. Kesi learned enough to get by. “Has anyone…. Watched girl…. This tall?” Her words were all jumbled and Kesi knew to instantly give up. She looked at her brother for guidance. He would know what to do. He always did. “Maybe some strangers saw her?”
Blood: Kesi lived for it. The screams and cries that filled the air the tiger ripped into the innocent man were sweeter than any song that could be played. It echoed in her mind, causing a sadistic smile on her face. Oh how exciting. Judea was typically so boring. They were so quiet and conservative and they talked about some god that just didn’t exist and it was awful.
That smile faded from her face when her brother got closer. She trusted him, she knew him to be a true god, but Kesi did not like seeing him in danger. No matter how confident, no matter how cool, she wished for him to be back and be safe. Kesi would rather die, rather be ravaged by a hundred tigers, tortured until her mind broke, all so her brother could be safe and happy. She would be angry at her brother if that was something Kesi was truly capable of. Instead Kesi would be angry with Hamidi, who easily could have handled the tiger and kept her brother safe at the same time.
Once more Kesi reversed course. She ran back towards the tiger and towards her brother. Her breath caught as the tiger jumped, soring above Amenemhat. No! Kesi was seeing red. She was going to kill this tiger. If it laid a single paw on Kesi she would rip it limb from limb. She would make the tiger choke on its own blood. She wouldn’t care what the Judeans did to her after, all that mattered was that the tiger suffered. Suffered for dare harming her brother, her ringmaster, her god.
But as it landed on its feet the tiger truly began to sway. And Amenemhat threw the fabric ahead of him, blinding the tiger as it fell to the ground asleep. Relief flooded the young girl’s mind as she made her way to her brother. Prior anger was immediately forgotten. Instead she was chattering away excitedly throwing herself into a hug with her brother. “Nem did you see that?! The tiger was all cranky and then it was all like rawr! And the blood! There’s so much of it! And.. and did you see how I poked it! I remember what I was taught! Hamidi would be impressed! And then you ran up and you were way cooler than Hamidi has ever been with his cats. You handled that no- Where’s Miri?”
She let go of Nem and looked around. People still seemed panicked, only now emerging from their hiding spots now that the tiger was dealt with. But there was no sign of Miri. Kesi frowned. She wasn’t where she left the two. Her head tilted to the side. “Miri!” Kesi called out, concerned for her circus family. Her nose wrinkled. She didn’t know how to speak their language very well. Kesi learned enough to get by. “Has anyone…. Watched girl…. This tall?” Her words were all jumbled and Kesi knew to instantly give up. She looked at her brother for guidance. He would know what to do. He always did. “Maybe some strangers saw her?”
Whenever drama had occurred back in Israel, Hannah had been in the perhaps privileged position of being able to properly understand the situation. Language was so significant a thing and yet so easily forgotten by those who only ever spoke with others of their native tongue. When issues and resentment and difficulties came to pass between the Greeks and the Jews, Hannah had been able to understand the words from both sets of mouths. She had never intervened, for she knew the costs of being a part of a scuffle or sedition on the streets. But she had understood what was happening and been able to avoid getting herself into a situation that would be dangerous.
This time, she was more lost at sea. The key players in the performance she half witnessed over her shoulder appeared to be from Egypt. They were tanner than the Hebrew people and held a sense of arrogant aloofness that was distinct to the hedonistic way of Egyptian life. Very like Athenians. They strode into the event as if they commanded it, as if the escape of the tiger had been all that they were waiting for to take their positions out on centre stage. First the woman with the red lips had roused the tiger. It had been angry to start, bashing the bars of its cage. But it hadn't been until the woman had pushed her hands through the gaps of its prison and caused it to roar with rage that it had had the strength to break free.
Then, after the large cat had made a spectacle of itself, attacking one of its handlers - a terrifying fate that Hannah had thankfully not seen in action - the man that accompanied the red-lipped woman had stepped forward. They spoke in a language that Hannah did not know and could only assume to be that of Egypt. The man called to the tiger, grabbing its attention and holding it before the animal slumped down and seemed to sleep at the man's very command.
There was an odd quiet that existed between the shouts of panic and Hannah found her eyes round and wide. Just what exactly had the man said that had made the tiger bow down to him. Was he a tamer of cats? A master of animalkind? And if that was the case, why had the creature been allowed to rile into such a state in the first place if he could have calmed the beast down?
It appeared that Hannah was not the only one to ask such questions. And yet, where she kept them inside her mind, others were not so restrictive. Calls from the crowd rose up in Hebrew, fists thrown to the air. The Judean people disliked foreigners at the best of times but when they appeared to work as a double act, bent on setting a tiger lose among the Ammun people, simply for the display of power that came with taming it, there was another layer of fearful hatred to be added to their natural xenophobia.
"How dare you!" Called one voice.
"You speak in the tongues of the animals! God will punish you! Witchcraft!" Shouted another.
"You have made your point. Leave our city!"
Hannah had no idea how much of anything that was being said was understandable to the foreigners that stood in the middle of the chaos, but it would be hard not to recognised the aggression and discord of resentment in the audience.
A tug on Hannah's arm had her looking forwards once more and she ran beside her new friend as quickly as she dared without risking a fall. When they collided with a group of running spectators, however, she lost her hold on Callidora and was pushed out of eyesight of the woman and her husband. She looked around in a panic, wondering how they could be so lost in only a short minute but it wasn't hard. With every member of the market that ran by, Hannah was forced to take a step back, a step sideways. In all likelihood, Callidora was being dorced to do the same and within seconds they could be yards away from one another.
As the other Greek woman had been rushing for a nearby alley, that was the direction that Hannah headed in, hoping that they might run into one another again. It was then that she turned down the little lane and, in a moment of hesitation as she looked about herself, collided with a couple of men and young Judean girl that they appeared to be holding captive...
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Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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Whenever drama had occurred back in Israel, Hannah had been in the perhaps privileged position of being able to properly understand the situation. Language was so significant a thing and yet so easily forgotten by those who only ever spoke with others of their native tongue. When issues and resentment and difficulties came to pass between the Greeks and the Jews, Hannah had been able to understand the words from both sets of mouths. She had never intervened, for she knew the costs of being a part of a scuffle or sedition on the streets. But she had understood what was happening and been able to avoid getting herself into a situation that would be dangerous.
This time, she was more lost at sea. The key players in the performance she half witnessed over her shoulder appeared to be from Egypt. They were tanner than the Hebrew people and held a sense of arrogant aloofness that was distinct to the hedonistic way of Egyptian life. Very like Athenians. They strode into the event as if they commanded it, as if the escape of the tiger had been all that they were waiting for to take their positions out on centre stage. First the woman with the red lips had roused the tiger. It had been angry to start, bashing the bars of its cage. But it hadn't been until the woman had pushed her hands through the gaps of its prison and caused it to roar with rage that it had had the strength to break free.
Then, after the large cat had made a spectacle of itself, attacking one of its handlers - a terrifying fate that Hannah had thankfully not seen in action - the man that accompanied the red-lipped woman had stepped forward. They spoke in a language that Hannah did not know and could only assume to be that of Egypt. The man called to the tiger, grabbing its attention and holding it before the animal slumped down and seemed to sleep at the man's very command.
There was an odd quiet that existed between the shouts of panic and Hannah found her eyes round and wide. Just what exactly had the man said that had made the tiger bow down to him. Was he a tamer of cats? A master of animalkind? And if that was the case, why had the creature been allowed to rile into such a state in the first place if he could have calmed the beast down?
It appeared that Hannah was not the only one to ask such questions. And yet, where she kept them inside her mind, others were not so restrictive. Calls from the crowd rose up in Hebrew, fists thrown to the air. The Judean people disliked foreigners at the best of times but when they appeared to work as a double act, bent on setting a tiger lose among the Ammun people, simply for the display of power that came with taming it, there was another layer of fearful hatred to be added to their natural xenophobia.
"How dare you!" Called one voice.
"You speak in the tongues of the animals! God will punish you! Witchcraft!" Shouted another.
"You have made your point. Leave our city!"
Hannah had no idea how much of anything that was being said was understandable to the foreigners that stood in the middle of the chaos, but it would be hard not to recognised the aggression and discord of resentment in the audience.
A tug on Hannah's arm had her looking forwards once more and she ran beside her new friend as quickly as she dared without risking a fall. When they collided with a group of running spectators, however, she lost her hold on Callidora and was pushed out of eyesight of the woman and her husband. She looked around in a panic, wondering how they could be so lost in only a short minute but it wasn't hard. With every member of the market that ran by, Hannah was forced to take a step back, a step sideways. In all likelihood, Callidora was being dorced to do the same and within seconds they could be yards away from one another.
As the other Greek woman had been rushing for a nearby alley, that was the direction that Hannah headed in, hoping that they might run into one another again. It was then that she turned down the little lane and, in a moment of hesitation as she looked about herself, collided with a couple of men and young Judean girl that they appeared to be holding captive...
Whenever drama had occurred back in Israel, Hannah had been in the perhaps privileged position of being able to properly understand the situation. Language was so significant a thing and yet so easily forgotten by those who only ever spoke with others of their native tongue. When issues and resentment and difficulties came to pass between the Greeks and the Jews, Hannah had been able to understand the words from both sets of mouths. She had never intervened, for she knew the costs of being a part of a scuffle or sedition on the streets. But she had understood what was happening and been able to avoid getting herself into a situation that would be dangerous.
This time, she was more lost at sea. The key players in the performance she half witnessed over her shoulder appeared to be from Egypt. They were tanner than the Hebrew people and held a sense of arrogant aloofness that was distinct to the hedonistic way of Egyptian life. Very like Athenians. They strode into the event as if they commanded it, as if the escape of the tiger had been all that they were waiting for to take their positions out on centre stage. First the woman with the red lips had roused the tiger. It had been angry to start, bashing the bars of its cage. But it hadn't been until the woman had pushed her hands through the gaps of its prison and caused it to roar with rage that it had had the strength to break free.
Then, after the large cat had made a spectacle of itself, attacking one of its handlers - a terrifying fate that Hannah had thankfully not seen in action - the man that accompanied the red-lipped woman had stepped forward. They spoke in a language that Hannah did not know and could only assume to be that of Egypt. The man called to the tiger, grabbing its attention and holding it before the animal slumped down and seemed to sleep at the man's very command.
There was an odd quiet that existed between the shouts of panic and Hannah found her eyes round and wide. Just what exactly had the man said that had made the tiger bow down to him. Was he a tamer of cats? A master of animalkind? And if that was the case, why had the creature been allowed to rile into such a state in the first place if he could have calmed the beast down?
It appeared that Hannah was not the only one to ask such questions. And yet, where she kept them inside her mind, others were not so restrictive. Calls from the crowd rose up in Hebrew, fists thrown to the air. The Judean people disliked foreigners at the best of times but when they appeared to work as a double act, bent on setting a tiger lose among the Ammun people, simply for the display of power that came with taming it, there was another layer of fearful hatred to be added to their natural xenophobia.
"How dare you!" Called one voice.
"You speak in the tongues of the animals! God will punish you! Witchcraft!" Shouted another.
"You have made your point. Leave our city!"
Hannah had no idea how much of anything that was being said was understandable to the foreigners that stood in the middle of the chaos, but it would be hard not to recognised the aggression and discord of resentment in the audience.
A tug on Hannah's arm had her looking forwards once more and she ran beside her new friend as quickly as she dared without risking a fall. When they collided with a group of running spectators, however, she lost her hold on Callidora and was pushed out of eyesight of the woman and her husband. She looked around in a panic, wondering how they could be so lost in only a short minute but it wasn't hard. With every member of the market that ran by, Hannah was forced to take a step back, a step sideways. In all likelihood, Callidora was being dorced to do the same and within seconds they could be yards away from one another.
As the other Greek woman had been rushing for a nearby alley, that was the direction that Hannah headed in, hoping that they might run into one another again. It was then that she turned down the little lane and, in a moment of hesitation as she looked about herself, collided with a couple of men and young Judean girl that they appeared to be holding captive...
This nation is more trouble than it's worth sometimes.
Amenemhat didn't care about the accusations that tore through the air. The Jews were superstitious folk, just as the Egyptians were, though their beliefs were asinine at best, heretical and dangerous at worst. Their understanding of the world was flawed, and their perceptions as a result were irrelevant. He brought them coin and they paid him back with disrespect. They saw him distract a beast and perceived him the threat. From the corner of his eye, as the beast in front of him fell, he saw the concern that flickered in Kesi's expression. She worried for him and while the thought was an endearing one, it wasn't the time for this.
These fools heckle, but none of them have the courage to do anything, he mused as he listened to his sister's assessment of what'd happened. Yes, it'd collapsed just as her poison intended for it to. The grin that caught upon his lips shifted in her direction, her narration of the events drawing a low laughter from his lips. Hamidi did his work to Nem's every specification, making a spectacle of turning a beast's will to his own. He would guide them through hoops of flame, he'd have them roar on command. But, Kesi's bias would blind her to all of that. He placed a kiss on the crown of her head, listening to her question about Miri.
She was gone, and Kesi's concern mirrored his own. Miri was a great asset, providing intrigue both to the audiences in the circus and the performers in it. The superstitions of the Egyptian people were not limited to the patronage, and her fortunes served as a much needed levity that proved an asset. It would be a massive shame to lose this girl to the nation that she abandoned. When Kesi let him go, he hardly needed to tell her to go.
"Find her. Show no mercy to anyone who's dared touch her," he whispered before allowing her to go off and comply. While a performer was a valuable thing, so too was the beast that he'd made the effort to stop with every intention of making it his. In the midst of the chaos, there wasn't much for him to learn, but there seemed to be a distinction between the Jews who stayed away from the thing, and the incompetent merchants peddling whatever nonsense they were paying more attention to. Lacking respect for the might of the beast... it was amateurish.
Pitiful fools. They'll have hell to pay with the Judeans, I'm sure.
To the people who stood behind their worship of a false idol, Amenemhat shrugged his shoulders. The word would surely spread like wildfire, their understanding that it was witchcraft that stopped the beast and not the nick of poison and Kesi's efforts proving to Amenemhat how foolish and pliable these people really were. The laughter threatened to escape his lips, but he ignored the hecklers and sought to directly address the idiots, instead. They seemed bewildered by what had transpired, utterly devastated and there could surely be the signs of coiling anger welling in their gut at the humiliation of it all. Amenemhat erased the smirk from his lips.
"These people call out witchcraft and promise divine retribution, but I think that we're intelligent enough to see what this was. Tell me, friends, if you have a price for this beast. I'd like to take it off your hands. If the idea of getting rid of a murderous monster with some profit to turn off it appeals to you... well, I'm the right person to talk to. Give me a moment and think about it."
The ringmaster, as he spoke, moved slowly, watching the merchant and the agitated people in the distance as he collected his things. The ripped shawl was useless to him, and his bared flesh surely drew stares of ire and intrigue both. When he returned to those merchants after a moment, those bronze orbs shifted from man to man,
"Have you thought on the matter?"
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Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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This nation is more trouble than it's worth sometimes.
Amenemhat didn't care about the accusations that tore through the air. The Jews were superstitious folk, just as the Egyptians were, though their beliefs were asinine at best, heretical and dangerous at worst. Their understanding of the world was flawed, and their perceptions as a result were irrelevant. He brought them coin and they paid him back with disrespect. They saw him distract a beast and perceived him the threat. From the corner of his eye, as the beast in front of him fell, he saw the concern that flickered in Kesi's expression. She worried for him and while the thought was an endearing one, it wasn't the time for this.
These fools heckle, but none of them have the courage to do anything, he mused as he listened to his sister's assessment of what'd happened. Yes, it'd collapsed just as her poison intended for it to. The grin that caught upon his lips shifted in her direction, her narration of the events drawing a low laughter from his lips. Hamidi did his work to Nem's every specification, making a spectacle of turning a beast's will to his own. He would guide them through hoops of flame, he'd have them roar on command. But, Kesi's bias would blind her to all of that. He placed a kiss on the crown of her head, listening to her question about Miri.
She was gone, and Kesi's concern mirrored his own. Miri was a great asset, providing intrigue both to the audiences in the circus and the performers in it. The superstitions of the Egyptian people were not limited to the patronage, and her fortunes served as a much needed levity that proved an asset. It would be a massive shame to lose this girl to the nation that she abandoned. When Kesi let him go, he hardly needed to tell her to go.
"Find her. Show no mercy to anyone who's dared touch her," he whispered before allowing her to go off and comply. While a performer was a valuable thing, so too was the beast that he'd made the effort to stop with every intention of making it his. In the midst of the chaos, there wasn't much for him to learn, but there seemed to be a distinction between the Jews who stayed away from the thing, and the incompetent merchants peddling whatever nonsense they were paying more attention to. Lacking respect for the might of the beast... it was amateurish.
Pitiful fools. They'll have hell to pay with the Judeans, I'm sure.
To the people who stood behind their worship of a false idol, Amenemhat shrugged his shoulders. The word would surely spread like wildfire, their understanding that it was witchcraft that stopped the beast and not the nick of poison and Kesi's efforts proving to Amenemhat how foolish and pliable these people really were. The laughter threatened to escape his lips, but he ignored the hecklers and sought to directly address the idiots, instead. They seemed bewildered by what had transpired, utterly devastated and there could surely be the signs of coiling anger welling in their gut at the humiliation of it all. Amenemhat erased the smirk from his lips.
"These people call out witchcraft and promise divine retribution, but I think that we're intelligent enough to see what this was. Tell me, friends, if you have a price for this beast. I'd like to take it off your hands. If the idea of getting rid of a murderous monster with some profit to turn off it appeals to you... well, I'm the right person to talk to. Give me a moment and think about it."
The ringmaster, as he spoke, moved slowly, watching the merchant and the agitated people in the distance as he collected his things. The ripped shawl was useless to him, and his bared flesh surely drew stares of ire and intrigue both. When he returned to those merchants after a moment, those bronze orbs shifted from man to man,
"Have you thought on the matter?"
This nation is more trouble than it's worth sometimes.
Amenemhat didn't care about the accusations that tore through the air. The Jews were superstitious folk, just as the Egyptians were, though their beliefs were asinine at best, heretical and dangerous at worst. Their understanding of the world was flawed, and their perceptions as a result were irrelevant. He brought them coin and they paid him back with disrespect. They saw him distract a beast and perceived him the threat. From the corner of his eye, as the beast in front of him fell, he saw the concern that flickered in Kesi's expression. She worried for him and while the thought was an endearing one, it wasn't the time for this.
These fools heckle, but none of them have the courage to do anything, he mused as he listened to his sister's assessment of what'd happened. Yes, it'd collapsed just as her poison intended for it to. The grin that caught upon his lips shifted in her direction, her narration of the events drawing a low laughter from his lips. Hamidi did his work to Nem's every specification, making a spectacle of turning a beast's will to his own. He would guide them through hoops of flame, he'd have them roar on command. But, Kesi's bias would blind her to all of that. He placed a kiss on the crown of her head, listening to her question about Miri.
She was gone, and Kesi's concern mirrored his own. Miri was a great asset, providing intrigue both to the audiences in the circus and the performers in it. The superstitions of the Egyptian people were not limited to the patronage, and her fortunes served as a much needed levity that proved an asset. It would be a massive shame to lose this girl to the nation that she abandoned. When Kesi let him go, he hardly needed to tell her to go.
"Find her. Show no mercy to anyone who's dared touch her," he whispered before allowing her to go off and comply. While a performer was a valuable thing, so too was the beast that he'd made the effort to stop with every intention of making it his. In the midst of the chaos, there wasn't much for him to learn, but there seemed to be a distinction between the Jews who stayed away from the thing, and the incompetent merchants peddling whatever nonsense they were paying more attention to. Lacking respect for the might of the beast... it was amateurish.
Pitiful fools. They'll have hell to pay with the Judeans, I'm sure.
To the people who stood behind their worship of a false idol, Amenemhat shrugged his shoulders. The word would surely spread like wildfire, their understanding that it was witchcraft that stopped the beast and not the nick of poison and Kesi's efforts proving to Amenemhat how foolish and pliable these people really were. The laughter threatened to escape his lips, but he ignored the hecklers and sought to directly address the idiots, instead. They seemed bewildered by what had transpired, utterly devastated and there could surely be the signs of coiling anger welling in their gut at the humiliation of it all. Amenemhat erased the smirk from his lips.
"These people call out witchcraft and promise divine retribution, but I think that we're intelligent enough to see what this was. Tell me, friends, if you have a price for this beast. I'd like to take it off your hands. If the idea of getting rid of a murderous monster with some profit to turn off it appeals to you... well, I'm the right person to talk to. Give me a moment and think about it."
The ringmaster, as he spoke, moved slowly, watching the merchant and the agitated people in the distance as he collected his things. The ripped shawl was useless to him, and his bared flesh surely drew stares of ire and intrigue both. When he returned to those merchants after a moment, those bronze orbs shifted from man to man,
"Have you thought on the matter?"
Had she not been buffeted so insistently by the crowd, Callidora would have stood, transfixed, and watched what was occurring. The Egyptian man and woman moved with each other like an orchestrated dance, working to bring down the tiger in a way she never would have expected. However, she could not afford to stop and watch; if she halted too long, she would be nothing more than dirt under the crowd’s crushing feet. She would not have it be said that she escaped death by tiger only to fall prey to the crush of people.
Demetrius urged her forward, broad shoulders pushing them through the throng as he fought to keep both his wife and their newfound companion safe from the others around them. It all seemed to be going well, that is, until just the wrong step pulled Hannah from Dora’s grasp, the slave woman soon lost among the crowd. “Hannah!” she cried out ineffectually, straining to see through the press of bodies, but it was hopeless. All it took was a moment, and she was gone.
“Callidora, we have to go,” Demetrius muttered urgently in her ear, taking hold of his wife’s arm, even as she sought to pull away to find Hannah. After what they’d been through in the marketplace earlier, she felt a sort of responsibility for the young woman and couldn’t bear the thought of simply abandoning her to the whims of the shifting crowd around them.
The cries of ‘heretic’ and ‘witchcraft’ were rising up with more velocity as the tiger was felled, and Dora knew her husband was right. A frightened crowd could turn into an angry one with barely a push, and they didn’t want to be here when that happened. A loose tiger was bad enough, but add a hysterical riot on top of it… no. They needed to get to safety, and fast. Even if it pained her to leave the other behind.
Dora nearly argued, standing on her toes as if she might be able to see over the others around her. If she could just catch a glimpse of Hannah, find where she was, then maybe they could grab her and go… But no, it was useless now. They would only get themselves further into this, and that was the last thing they needed.
“All right, let’s go,” she finally relented when there was no sign of their companion to be found, emerald gaze troubled and antsy. “Good luck, Hannah,” she murmured under her breath as Demetrius wrapped an arm around her and propelled her forward, sparing one last glance over her shoulder. A silent prayer was sent up to her gods for the woman’s protection, and after a moment’s hesitation, she included one for Yahweh, as well. Having travelled for so long, she had long learned not to disrespect the gods of other lands, and if her own gods were unable to intervene, hopefully the Judean one would.
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Had she not been buffeted so insistently by the crowd, Callidora would have stood, transfixed, and watched what was occurring. The Egyptian man and woman moved with each other like an orchestrated dance, working to bring down the tiger in a way she never would have expected. However, she could not afford to stop and watch; if she halted too long, she would be nothing more than dirt under the crowd’s crushing feet. She would not have it be said that she escaped death by tiger only to fall prey to the crush of people.
Demetrius urged her forward, broad shoulders pushing them through the throng as he fought to keep both his wife and their newfound companion safe from the others around them. It all seemed to be going well, that is, until just the wrong step pulled Hannah from Dora’s grasp, the slave woman soon lost among the crowd. “Hannah!” she cried out ineffectually, straining to see through the press of bodies, but it was hopeless. All it took was a moment, and she was gone.
“Callidora, we have to go,” Demetrius muttered urgently in her ear, taking hold of his wife’s arm, even as she sought to pull away to find Hannah. After what they’d been through in the marketplace earlier, she felt a sort of responsibility for the young woman and couldn’t bear the thought of simply abandoning her to the whims of the shifting crowd around them.
The cries of ‘heretic’ and ‘witchcraft’ were rising up with more velocity as the tiger was felled, and Dora knew her husband was right. A frightened crowd could turn into an angry one with barely a push, and they didn’t want to be here when that happened. A loose tiger was bad enough, but add a hysterical riot on top of it… no. They needed to get to safety, and fast. Even if it pained her to leave the other behind.
Dora nearly argued, standing on her toes as if she might be able to see over the others around her. If she could just catch a glimpse of Hannah, find where she was, then maybe they could grab her and go… But no, it was useless now. They would only get themselves further into this, and that was the last thing they needed.
“All right, let’s go,” she finally relented when there was no sign of their companion to be found, emerald gaze troubled and antsy. “Good luck, Hannah,” she murmured under her breath as Demetrius wrapped an arm around her and propelled her forward, sparing one last glance over her shoulder. A silent prayer was sent up to her gods for the woman’s protection, and after a moment’s hesitation, she included one for Yahweh, as well. Having travelled for so long, she had long learned not to disrespect the gods of other lands, and if her own gods were unable to intervene, hopefully the Judean one would.
Had she not been buffeted so insistently by the crowd, Callidora would have stood, transfixed, and watched what was occurring. The Egyptian man and woman moved with each other like an orchestrated dance, working to bring down the tiger in a way she never would have expected. However, she could not afford to stop and watch; if she halted too long, she would be nothing more than dirt under the crowd’s crushing feet. She would not have it be said that she escaped death by tiger only to fall prey to the crush of people.
Demetrius urged her forward, broad shoulders pushing them through the throng as he fought to keep both his wife and their newfound companion safe from the others around them. It all seemed to be going well, that is, until just the wrong step pulled Hannah from Dora’s grasp, the slave woman soon lost among the crowd. “Hannah!” she cried out ineffectually, straining to see through the press of bodies, but it was hopeless. All it took was a moment, and she was gone.
“Callidora, we have to go,” Demetrius muttered urgently in her ear, taking hold of his wife’s arm, even as she sought to pull away to find Hannah. After what they’d been through in the marketplace earlier, she felt a sort of responsibility for the young woman and couldn’t bear the thought of simply abandoning her to the whims of the shifting crowd around them.
The cries of ‘heretic’ and ‘witchcraft’ were rising up with more velocity as the tiger was felled, and Dora knew her husband was right. A frightened crowd could turn into an angry one with barely a push, and they didn’t want to be here when that happened. A loose tiger was bad enough, but add a hysterical riot on top of it… no. They needed to get to safety, and fast. Even if it pained her to leave the other behind.
Dora nearly argued, standing on her toes as if she might be able to see over the others around her. If she could just catch a glimpse of Hannah, find where she was, then maybe they could grab her and go… But no, it was useless now. They would only get themselves further into this, and that was the last thing they needed.
“All right, let’s go,” she finally relented when there was no sign of their companion to be found, emerald gaze troubled and antsy. “Good luck, Hannah,” she murmured under her breath as Demetrius wrapped an arm around her and propelled her forward, sparing one last glance over her shoulder. A silent prayer was sent up to her gods for the woman’s protection, and after a moment’s hesitation, she included one for Yahweh, as well. Having travelled for so long, she had long learned not to disrespect the gods of other lands, and if her own gods were unable to intervene, hopefully the Judean one would.
The minutes dragged on. Miri’s heart continued beating at a steady pace, her posture tall and proud and still entirely unconcerned. The men glanced at each other over her head, still unsure what to do with her. “I think we had better see you safely home,” the taller man said after a while, and the other man nodded nervously.
“You will be walking quite a while,” said Miri quietly, casting her eyes around the alley. They were still quite alone, but she could see people rushing past at the far end. If they took her anywhere—at least, with their vile hands holding her with such force—someone would see. Someone would notice, even if Kesi and Amenemhat did not manage to find her first. She would be alright.
Still, this was a tricky situation. To explain to the men that she was with the Egyptians who neutralized the tiger would not be smart. Most Judeans would see her as a traitor to her faith and her people, though she knew their faith was nothing but a fairytale. The true gods would escort her home safely. She had no need for these brutes. “I am from Israel, you see,” she added after a long moment. “My family sent me to trade for them and will not be expecting me home for several weeks. If y—”
And there it was: the divine intervention she knew was sure to come. A young woman crashed into the trio, sending one of the men stumbling. The surprise was enough for her to wrest her arm free of them both, pulling the woman back and positioning herself behind her shoulder. “We should go,” she urged the woman quietly, her voice clear in the otherwise silent alley. The men looked disturbed and took a few steps forward, confusion etched on their faces. “These men are unkind.” One hand rubbed unconsciously at her upper arm, the skin raw and ready to bruise already.
Miri began to back away, hazel eyes locked with her would-be-captors’ all the while. Only once she had nearly reached the end of the alley, once chaos filled her ears again, did she turn her back to the men and pull the woman along with her, reentering the slowing flow of Judeans escaping the marketplace. “Hey!” she heard them call, but she was free, and would not be captured again so easily.
“Thank you,” Miri said as they hurried along, though her eyes stayed focused on the people around them, searching for her family. The danger from the tiger seemed to have passed, but everyone was anxious to get home and tell the story of their own bravery. Drama like this in Judea was a foreign concept for most, and first-hand stories were rare. Miri only just managed to conceal her scoff as the gossip began to fill her ears, the people around her chattering excitedly to one another. This was nothing. She had seen bigger cats and more dangerous feats in her first two weeks with the Tempest.
“I should go and find my family,” Miri added, glancing at her new companion before throwing a look over her shoulder. Kesi and Amenemhat were nowhere in sight, most likely still occupied with the aftermath of downing the tiger. Had they even noticed yet that she was gone? She had to get back to the market, but the throng of people kept pulling her with their current, further and further from the only home she knew.
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The minutes dragged on. Miri’s heart continued beating at a steady pace, her posture tall and proud and still entirely unconcerned. The men glanced at each other over her head, still unsure what to do with her. “I think we had better see you safely home,” the taller man said after a while, and the other man nodded nervously.
“You will be walking quite a while,” said Miri quietly, casting her eyes around the alley. They were still quite alone, but she could see people rushing past at the far end. If they took her anywhere—at least, with their vile hands holding her with such force—someone would see. Someone would notice, even if Kesi and Amenemhat did not manage to find her first. She would be alright.
Still, this was a tricky situation. To explain to the men that she was with the Egyptians who neutralized the tiger would not be smart. Most Judeans would see her as a traitor to her faith and her people, though she knew their faith was nothing but a fairytale. The true gods would escort her home safely. She had no need for these brutes. “I am from Israel, you see,” she added after a long moment. “My family sent me to trade for them and will not be expecting me home for several weeks. If y—”
And there it was: the divine intervention she knew was sure to come. A young woman crashed into the trio, sending one of the men stumbling. The surprise was enough for her to wrest her arm free of them both, pulling the woman back and positioning herself behind her shoulder. “We should go,” she urged the woman quietly, her voice clear in the otherwise silent alley. The men looked disturbed and took a few steps forward, confusion etched on their faces. “These men are unkind.” One hand rubbed unconsciously at her upper arm, the skin raw and ready to bruise already.
Miri began to back away, hazel eyes locked with her would-be-captors’ all the while. Only once she had nearly reached the end of the alley, once chaos filled her ears again, did she turn her back to the men and pull the woman along with her, reentering the slowing flow of Judeans escaping the marketplace. “Hey!” she heard them call, but she was free, and would not be captured again so easily.
“Thank you,” Miri said as they hurried along, though her eyes stayed focused on the people around them, searching for her family. The danger from the tiger seemed to have passed, but everyone was anxious to get home and tell the story of their own bravery. Drama like this in Judea was a foreign concept for most, and first-hand stories were rare. Miri only just managed to conceal her scoff as the gossip began to fill her ears, the people around her chattering excitedly to one another. This was nothing. She had seen bigger cats and more dangerous feats in her first two weeks with the Tempest.
“I should go and find my family,” Miri added, glancing at her new companion before throwing a look over her shoulder. Kesi and Amenemhat were nowhere in sight, most likely still occupied with the aftermath of downing the tiger. Had they even noticed yet that she was gone? She had to get back to the market, but the throng of people kept pulling her with their current, further and further from the only home she knew.
The minutes dragged on. Miri’s heart continued beating at a steady pace, her posture tall and proud and still entirely unconcerned. The men glanced at each other over her head, still unsure what to do with her. “I think we had better see you safely home,” the taller man said after a while, and the other man nodded nervously.
“You will be walking quite a while,” said Miri quietly, casting her eyes around the alley. They were still quite alone, but she could see people rushing past at the far end. If they took her anywhere—at least, with their vile hands holding her with such force—someone would see. Someone would notice, even if Kesi and Amenemhat did not manage to find her first. She would be alright.
Still, this was a tricky situation. To explain to the men that she was with the Egyptians who neutralized the tiger would not be smart. Most Judeans would see her as a traitor to her faith and her people, though she knew their faith was nothing but a fairytale. The true gods would escort her home safely. She had no need for these brutes. “I am from Israel, you see,” she added after a long moment. “My family sent me to trade for them and will not be expecting me home for several weeks. If y—”
And there it was: the divine intervention she knew was sure to come. A young woman crashed into the trio, sending one of the men stumbling. The surprise was enough for her to wrest her arm free of them both, pulling the woman back and positioning herself behind her shoulder. “We should go,” she urged the woman quietly, her voice clear in the otherwise silent alley. The men looked disturbed and took a few steps forward, confusion etched on their faces. “These men are unkind.” One hand rubbed unconsciously at her upper arm, the skin raw and ready to bruise already.
Miri began to back away, hazel eyes locked with her would-be-captors’ all the while. Only once she had nearly reached the end of the alley, once chaos filled her ears again, did she turn her back to the men and pull the woman along with her, reentering the slowing flow of Judeans escaping the marketplace. “Hey!” she heard them call, but she was free, and would not be captured again so easily.
“Thank you,” Miri said as they hurried along, though her eyes stayed focused on the people around them, searching for her family. The danger from the tiger seemed to have passed, but everyone was anxious to get home and tell the story of their own bravery. Drama like this in Judea was a foreign concept for most, and first-hand stories were rare. Miri only just managed to conceal her scoff as the gossip began to fill her ears, the people around her chattering excitedly to one another. This was nothing. She had seen bigger cats and more dangerous feats in her first two weeks with the Tempest.
“I should go and find my family,” Miri added, glancing at her new companion before throwing a look over her shoulder. Kesi and Amenemhat were nowhere in sight, most likely still occupied with the aftermath of downing the tiger. Had they even noticed yet that she was gone? She had to get back to the market, but the throng of people kept pulling her with their current, further and further from the only home she knew.
She was given permission to kill. She was given permission to kill. She was given permission to kill!
It was pure chaos going through Kesi’s mind right now. All at once, the personalities were clamoring for control. While Kesi herself may not be truly aware of the madness that was within her, her mind continued to whirl. She felt a desire for blood. An anger towards those that dare touch someone of the circus. A need to protect Miri from whatever danger she may be in. A need to serve Amenemhat and his demands. And a thirst for blood.
Coming to Judea was well worth it.
Without even a second thought, Kesi took as fast as her feet would carry her. She cared not for the crowd of angry Judeans, speaking Hebrew that she barely understood. Her brother would be safe, and he could handle them. He was smart, he knew Hebrew and things would be completely fine. Though perhaps later Kesi would get annoyed that the Judeans were mad at them instead of mad at the Arabian who failed to contain the tiger.
But none of that mattered right now. She had to find Miri. What if Kesi was too late? What if she was gone forever? What if she was stuck in boring old Judea where everything was awful and they prayed to a god that wasn’t Set! They didn’t even like chaos. It was horrible. Kesi couldn’t imagine a worse torture.
In the distance, she saw Miri. It looked like two men were dragging her away. Perfect. While Kesi didn’t have her blowdarts, she did have her daggers. She’d gut them where they stood. A river of blood will run in Judea today, and Kesi would massacre them worse than the tiger did to the civilian. Kesi was a deadlier beast.
Once more she sprinted after them. She saw red. Her mind could only think of their screams. Unfortunately, Kesi wouldn’t be able to relish in it too long. Her brother would be horribly upset if she didn’t escape. She would still have to be smart about thi-
There were no men. When Kesi turned the corner, instead she saw Miri and a girl. But where did those men go? Miri didn’t look hurt or upset. She didn’t even look like she was in any danger. Did this mean… that Kesi would have to stay her blade? But… but this wasn’t fair. It’s not often she gets permission to kill. Kesi was so excited.
And like that the chaos that was going through her mind subsided. Instead, she just tried to pout as she slowed her speed and instead approached the two women. “Miri, I’m glad you’re okay.” But she could have been a little hurt. If she was a little hurt then Kesi could justify hunting down the men that harmed her. “Is this one causing trouble?” Kesi asked in Coptic. Please say yes. She’d be easy to put down.
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She was given permission to kill. She was given permission to kill. She was given permission to kill!
It was pure chaos going through Kesi’s mind right now. All at once, the personalities were clamoring for control. While Kesi herself may not be truly aware of the madness that was within her, her mind continued to whirl. She felt a desire for blood. An anger towards those that dare touch someone of the circus. A need to protect Miri from whatever danger she may be in. A need to serve Amenemhat and his demands. And a thirst for blood.
Coming to Judea was well worth it.
Without even a second thought, Kesi took as fast as her feet would carry her. She cared not for the crowd of angry Judeans, speaking Hebrew that she barely understood. Her brother would be safe, and he could handle them. He was smart, he knew Hebrew and things would be completely fine. Though perhaps later Kesi would get annoyed that the Judeans were mad at them instead of mad at the Arabian who failed to contain the tiger.
But none of that mattered right now. She had to find Miri. What if Kesi was too late? What if she was gone forever? What if she was stuck in boring old Judea where everything was awful and they prayed to a god that wasn’t Set! They didn’t even like chaos. It was horrible. Kesi couldn’t imagine a worse torture.
In the distance, she saw Miri. It looked like two men were dragging her away. Perfect. While Kesi didn’t have her blowdarts, she did have her daggers. She’d gut them where they stood. A river of blood will run in Judea today, and Kesi would massacre them worse than the tiger did to the civilian. Kesi was a deadlier beast.
Once more she sprinted after them. She saw red. Her mind could only think of their screams. Unfortunately, Kesi wouldn’t be able to relish in it too long. Her brother would be horribly upset if she didn’t escape. She would still have to be smart about thi-
There were no men. When Kesi turned the corner, instead she saw Miri and a girl. But where did those men go? Miri didn’t look hurt or upset. She didn’t even look like she was in any danger. Did this mean… that Kesi would have to stay her blade? But… but this wasn’t fair. It’s not often she gets permission to kill. Kesi was so excited.
And like that the chaos that was going through her mind subsided. Instead, she just tried to pout as she slowed her speed and instead approached the two women. “Miri, I’m glad you’re okay.” But she could have been a little hurt. If she was a little hurt then Kesi could justify hunting down the men that harmed her. “Is this one causing trouble?” Kesi asked in Coptic. Please say yes. She’d be easy to put down.
She was given permission to kill. She was given permission to kill. She was given permission to kill!
It was pure chaos going through Kesi’s mind right now. All at once, the personalities were clamoring for control. While Kesi herself may not be truly aware of the madness that was within her, her mind continued to whirl. She felt a desire for blood. An anger towards those that dare touch someone of the circus. A need to protect Miri from whatever danger she may be in. A need to serve Amenemhat and his demands. And a thirst for blood.
Coming to Judea was well worth it.
Without even a second thought, Kesi took as fast as her feet would carry her. She cared not for the crowd of angry Judeans, speaking Hebrew that she barely understood. Her brother would be safe, and he could handle them. He was smart, he knew Hebrew and things would be completely fine. Though perhaps later Kesi would get annoyed that the Judeans were mad at them instead of mad at the Arabian who failed to contain the tiger.
But none of that mattered right now. She had to find Miri. What if Kesi was too late? What if she was gone forever? What if she was stuck in boring old Judea where everything was awful and they prayed to a god that wasn’t Set! They didn’t even like chaos. It was horrible. Kesi couldn’t imagine a worse torture.
In the distance, she saw Miri. It looked like two men were dragging her away. Perfect. While Kesi didn’t have her blowdarts, she did have her daggers. She’d gut them where they stood. A river of blood will run in Judea today, and Kesi would massacre them worse than the tiger did to the civilian. Kesi was a deadlier beast.
Once more she sprinted after them. She saw red. Her mind could only think of their screams. Unfortunately, Kesi wouldn’t be able to relish in it too long. Her brother would be horribly upset if she didn’t escape. She would still have to be smart about thi-
There were no men. When Kesi turned the corner, instead she saw Miri and a girl. But where did those men go? Miri didn’t look hurt or upset. She didn’t even look like she was in any danger. Did this mean… that Kesi would have to stay her blade? But… but this wasn’t fair. It’s not often she gets permission to kill. Kesi was so excited.
And like that the chaos that was going through her mind subsided. Instead, she just tried to pout as she slowed her speed and instead approached the two women. “Miri, I’m glad you’re okay.” But she could have been a little hurt. If she was a little hurt then Kesi could justify hunting down the men that harmed her. “Is this one causing trouble?” Kesi asked in Coptic. Please say yes. She’d be easy to put down.
At long last, there was Kesi. Miri breathed a sigh of relief, releasing tension she hadn’t known had been there to begin with. Kesi was safe, which meant Amenemhat was, too. The older girl would not likely leave her brother in a dangerous situation, not for Miri at least. Sending a sideways glance at the woman who had saved her—though, in truth, the gods had saved her like always—Miri joined Kesi in Coptic. She kept her voice as low as possible, not wishing to draw even more unwanted attention, though Kesi seemed more than willing to get into some more trouble.
“Kesi, no, this woman has been nothing but helpful. She got me away from some ill-mannered men.” She forced a bit of a smile, eyes still scanning the crowd for any sign of the captors. She pulled her slightly torn shawl tighter around her shoulders, hoping against hope it would cover the forming bruises. She knew Kesi well enough to know the girl would be far from pleased to know Miri was, in fact, a bit injured. Kesi liked chaos, a true worshipper of Set, but all Miri wanted at the moment was to get back to the circus campgrounds without any more drama. “I’m glad to see you, can we go?” Aloof, calm, proud: Miri’s nearly permanently cold display. Somewhere behind her eyes though, she was starting to get nervous. It made no sense; the danger was over. But Miri did not think she would truly feel safe until they had left this ravaged marketplace.
Turning back to the red-haired woman, Miri thanked her briefly in Hebrew, added a smile, and turned back to Kesi, pulling her back through the receding crowd. “We should fetch someone to help Amenemhat transport the beast, yes? Perhaps we can find Hamidi.” Anything to get away from here. The gods were stirring with indignance and perhaps a touch of anger. Miri was overwhelmed. There was too much stimulation, too much pain. She could feel the fear of the fleeing Judeans and the anger of the merchants whose stalls had been destroyed. All on top of the chaos in her own head. Miri prided herself on her self-control, her serenity even in the face of danger. And now she was dangerously close to losing control.
“Let’s hurry and find some help for your brother.” Miri held her breath all the way back to camp.
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At long last, there was Kesi. Miri breathed a sigh of relief, releasing tension she hadn’t known had been there to begin with. Kesi was safe, which meant Amenemhat was, too. The older girl would not likely leave her brother in a dangerous situation, not for Miri at least. Sending a sideways glance at the woman who had saved her—though, in truth, the gods had saved her like always—Miri joined Kesi in Coptic. She kept her voice as low as possible, not wishing to draw even more unwanted attention, though Kesi seemed more than willing to get into some more trouble.
“Kesi, no, this woman has been nothing but helpful. She got me away from some ill-mannered men.” She forced a bit of a smile, eyes still scanning the crowd for any sign of the captors. She pulled her slightly torn shawl tighter around her shoulders, hoping against hope it would cover the forming bruises. She knew Kesi well enough to know the girl would be far from pleased to know Miri was, in fact, a bit injured. Kesi liked chaos, a true worshipper of Set, but all Miri wanted at the moment was to get back to the circus campgrounds without any more drama. “I’m glad to see you, can we go?” Aloof, calm, proud: Miri’s nearly permanently cold display. Somewhere behind her eyes though, she was starting to get nervous. It made no sense; the danger was over. But Miri did not think she would truly feel safe until they had left this ravaged marketplace.
Turning back to the red-haired woman, Miri thanked her briefly in Hebrew, added a smile, and turned back to Kesi, pulling her back through the receding crowd. “We should fetch someone to help Amenemhat transport the beast, yes? Perhaps we can find Hamidi.” Anything to get away from here. The gods were stirring with indignance and perhaps a touch of anger. Miri was overwhelmed. There was too much stimulation, too much pain. She could feel the fear of the fleeing Judeans and the anger of the merchants whose stalls had been destroyed. All on top of the chaos in her own head. Miri prided herself on her self-control, her serenity even in the face of danger. And now she was dangerously close to losing control.
“Let’s hurry and find some help for your brother.” Miri held her breath all the way back to camp.
At long last, there was Kesi. Miri breathed a sigh of relief, releasing tension she hadn’t known had been there to begin with. Kesi was safe, which meant Amenemhat was, too. The older girl would not likely leave her brother in a dangerous situation, not for Miri at least. Sending a sideways glance at the woman who had saved her—though, in truth, the gods had saved her like always—Miri joined Kesi in Coptic. She kept her voice as low as possible, not wishing to draw even more unwanted attention, though Kesi seemed more than willing to get into some more trouble.
“Kesi, no, this woman has been nothing but helpful. She got me away from some ill-mannered men.” She forced a bit of a smile, eyes still scanning the crowd for any sign of the captors. She pulled her slightly torn shawl tighter around her shoulders, hoping against hope it would cover the forming bruises. She knew Kesi well enough to know the girl would be far from pleased to know Miri was, in fact, a bit injured. Kesi liked chaos, a true worshipper of Set, but all Miri wanted at the moment was to get back to the circus campgrounds without any more drama. “I’m glad to see you, can we go?” Aloof, calm, proud: Miri’s nearly permanently cold display. Somewhere behind her eyes though, she was starting to get nervous. It made no sense; the danger was over. But Miri did not think she would truly feel safe until they had left this ravaged marketplace.
Turning back to the red-haired woman, Miri thanked her briefly in Hebrew, added a smile, and turned back to Kesi, pulling her back through the receding crowd. “We should fetch someone to help Amenemhat transport the beast, yes? Perhaps we can find Hamidi.” Anything to get away from here. The gods were stirring with indignance and perhaps a touch of anger. Miri was overwhelmed. There was too much stimulation, too much pain. She could feel the fear of the fleeing Judeans and the anger of the merchants whose stalls had been destroyed. All on top of the chaos in her own head. Miri prided herself on her self-control, her serenity even in the face of danger. And now she was dangerously close to losing control.
“Let’s hurry and find some help for your brother.” Miri held her breath all the way back to camp.