Down in the Sands of Egypt.

Today would be a day that Ra himself would be proud of.

Osahar awoke in his linen bed sheets and his heart started to speed with the rising of the sun. The shadows of the morning faded away into nothing. Osahar slowly moved out of his large bed and placed his feet onto the cool brick. Today was the day he had been born for, the day he would be remembered for years to come.

Osahar moved to the large white pillars and touched the pale faces of the smoothed brick, watching grasses beyond his palace. The wind soothed her way between each blade and then kicked up to blow on His Majesty. Osahar grinned, the Gods were accepting the day. They were praising him.

The early servants moved around, the gigantic wooden doors eased open as they whistled in the room with Osahar's mother, Amisi. She walked to the large bed and sat down him, touching the white linen blanket.

Osahar said nothing to her but went to the servants who stood by with his necessities. Two women held out his white coat which he slid into quickly. They moved about him, stripping him of his clothes and tying on the ones for today.

A tunic of white, blessed with dark blue designed in it like the Nile and gold stitched in to make it gleam in the eyes of Ra. A skirt made of the same pattern draped around his hips and the sheer white coat to top it all off.

The servants moved him to the mirror, now lit with large fires to improve the lighting. They went at him with rouge sticks and lip-gloss. Painting his olive skin for the glorious day of today. One of the servants held the nail polish for him but Osahar opted out.

They took out the wooden pallet and ground together the ingredients for the eye makeup. A holy man whispering the prayers for all the gods to bless their Pharaoh.

"You look beautiful, Pharaoh." Amisi whispered to him and Osahar looked to her now. She was wilted, her skin grown flabby with time. Her black hair was streaked with white and gray, making her look older than what she should have been. Osahar could not help the cringe in his shoulders, running down his spine. His mother was not the beautiful woman she once was anymore.

Osahar nodded to her words but said nothing in reply. He instead moved to the servants prepared for the eye make-up. The swiftly moved about his dark eyes, shaping them correctly. Osahar waited until the last bits of movement were done with before he stood up and picked up the mirror. He looked into it and smiled with his red lips. He truly was the God he was meant to be.

The male servants arrived with Osahar's headpiece. He stood toward the great river of the Nile as they placed it on top of his head. Osahar felt a surge run throughout him, lighting his mere veins on fire. His mother whispered about his beauty again and Osahar couldn't agree more with her. The Gods couldn't have chosen a more beautiful man, he thought to himself.

The winds blew into the palace again and Osahar lifted his hand up, looking away from the servants who quickly dropped to their feet in a deep bow. He was finished with them for now. They moved, eyes on the floor at all times, and quietly exited. Osahar looked to his mother, holding out his hand.

"Today, we embrace the Gods." Osahar said delighted as his mother took his hand and he guided her toward the door. She left peacefully, a smile on her face and looking away from her son.

Osahar looked to the river again, moving past the white curtains. The sun broke past the clouds and blasted a ray onto the palace, it was a sign of acceptance.

"Today is the day, we embrace the Gods." He repeated.

Being a servant within the Egyptian Royal Quarter was a privilege, but to become a servant within the House of Pharaoh was not only a privilege but also a blessing from Heaven. Sered had been told this since he was a small child. Every mother and father who was born a Hebrew wished for their children to not have to bear the heavy burden of building the Pharaoh’s kingdom. It was born by the sweat and blood of slaves and driven by the guards’ whips. Every Hebrew felt the sting of the hardened leather…some more than others. Sered had been lucky, and had been chosen when he was a small boy to be taken in to the House of the Pharaoh who ruled before Osahar, and was lucky enough to remain there after that Pharaoh had died.

Sered also knew why he was chosen was because he had been an attractive child, and his appearances continued through maturity up until his twentieth year which he had celebrated last harvest. He had been considered a man for many years, but it was quite evident now that he was far from being a child. He was tall, lean, and strong which was to be attributed to hard labor that he had been born into. Of course his job was nowhere near as taxing as for those who moved the huge stones that made up the pyramids, or those who mixed the mud and straw for bricks and mortar. However, he did the sort of hard labor that needed to be done inside the palace. He carried large amounts of food, or grain for the animals used by the Pharaoh and those directly related to him. Today, however, he was helping the women carry the laundry to and from the river. The garments had been kept in large baskets, and Sered would carry three at a time down from the palace and to the area of the Nile used for washing clothes which was off to the side from the Pharaoh’s balcony so his view of the mighty river would not be obstructed by servants.

He was rarely given clothes to cover his upper body as it was necessary for the scars on his back to be seen. One of the many signs of what his rank in this world was. Another was the plain gold bands around both of his arms above his biceps which his arms were straining against as he carried the heavy baskets. His lower half was covered by a simple white tunic that covered down to his knees. His feet were bare since he would be most likely going down into the water as well to help with moving the clothes once they were soaked. His hair was cropped short and was as dark as his eyes, and his skin was tanned from years of being outside under the hot Egyptian sun, and the sun was once again out today. He sighed and looked up once he finally was able to sit the baskets down at the river’s edge. Sered could hear the women chattering and gossiping as they usually did about various events in the palace. Apparently today was going to be somewhat special. The entire palace was talking about it, but Sered wasn’t exactly sure what ‘it’ was. He looked around a moment before one of the women said something in more of an excited voice than usual.

“Look! Look! It’s the Pharaoh!” one of them said in almost a whisper as if worried that if someone heard the Pharaoh would disappear back into his chambers. All of them looked up including Sered. Everyone knew of Osahar, but especially those who worked within the palace. However, it was still a rarity to actually see him without the rest of his procession that would follow him everywhere. Sered looked curious…Why had Yahweh allowed this man of all people to rule over them? A man who worshipped so many other gods, and also kept the Hebrews enslaved? Sered did not view this as Yahweh’s punishment upon them, but as something that was allowed to happen. However, he was starting to wonder if that was a good outlook on it. For hundreds of years his people had suffered under the hand of the Pharaohs past and present. The Hebrews had built Egypt’s pyramids, many of the statues to the gods, temples, and even parts of the royal palace. Why, then, were they still dying under the rule of those standing on the backs of Hebrews, trying to reach for gods who were not there?

“Sered! Are you just going to stand there and daydream all day? There is a tunic floating down the river. You had better hurry before you have to swim after it, and if a crocodile eats you I’ll be sure to tell the guards that it was because you were off in your own little world again.” One of the women teased and the others laughed. Sered merely looked at her and smirked a little before making his way into the river, retrieved the garment in water that reached up to his waist, then carried it back to the woman who had made fun of him.

He held up the soaking garment as if offering it as a sacrifice with a low bow, “My apologies, highness, I did not mean to offend the goddess of undergarments.” He said and the women cackled again. When Sered looked up at her he was met with another wet article of clothing that stuck against his face as the woman threw it at him. He nearly fell over, but kept his footing as best he could in the muddy sand of the Nile and removed the offending article from his face and he laughed as well before they all got back to work again. The negative thoughts from before were gone as Sered focused on his work, and in making sure to keep an eye out for any crocodiles. This area was blocked off, but that didn’t mean that the beasts couldn’t get in. They were revered as gods to begin with, and Sered was sure that a servant or slave getting eaten by one would be considered a sacrifice…however, he didn’t want that to happen this morning. Keeping an eye out was easy enough, though.

Osahar breathed in deeply the incense set before his gods. The sweet smelling aroma wafted up into the air as smoke, swirling around the heads of the idols. Above him stood stone statues of hybrid-people, each of them held proudly decorated. Gold and precious stones were hammered into them, decorating their cold faces. Beside him, priests and priestesses were chanting songs of protection for him.

Osahar knelt before them, bowing low to the ground. The priests and priestesses followed his example, chanting as they bowed. As they knelt, a servant would splash a bit of water into the bowl under the gigantic statues. Steam hissed out of the hot bowl, set above a burning fire of the incense and the steam washed over the Pharaoh and the few with him as they prayed. Osahar rose back up, rocking with his hands held high above his head with his fingertips pointing to Ra, the falcon head staring down at him with his golden covered eyes. His lips opened and closed in ritual prayer and again he bowed down before him. He prayed for acceptance, a plea for him to bless this day with his mighty force and bless him, the Pharaoh - the earthly god - for today was a day to honor all gods.

Osahar arose finally, his legs ached but it was a good type of ache. He stood, hand held out for his crook and his flail which where handed to him by the priests. In front of his gods, shadowed away from the world he dressed for the ceremony.

Around his shoulder they draped a leopard skin, the face of the leopard on one side and the tail on the other. Servants came forth, eyes glued to the floor as they placed golden bracelets around his tanned wrists, a necklace with a blue jewel at his throat and anklets made of tiny rubies. He was bejeweled and dressed, blessed by his gods and the priests. He bowed again to his gods and then spun on his heel toward the large door. He would walk out there and be greeted by his people.

The idea came to him during a dream, a message sent from Ra himself. He saw a man standing, alone at the front of a great temple. It was beautiful in the way the sun hit the white stone, twin tall pillars rose with juts of stone on one side that one would climb up and light a huge fire at the top of the temple. They stood on either side of the wide doorway, the dark insides beckoned on the lone man and inside Osahar's spirit went with the man. Inside, the room was covered with hieroglyphics, telling the story of Creation. The walls went on, until they stopped and a room expanded. In the middle of the room there was a throne with Ra sitting upon it, the bright sun on his crown was highlighted by the sweet-smelling fire that burned forever by his side. Osahar had never seen a more beautiful sight in his entire life. The dream stole his breath away and still today it took from him.

That was dream was many years ago, he commissioned it the morning that he awoke and now they were finished. The temple baked in the glory of Ra, the pillars burned with the fire and inside he knew the gigantic statue of his beloved god smiled upon him as he would present him to the people of Egypt.

Osahar, Pharaoh, walked to the large balcony. On his left stood a priest and his wife, priestess. They held special charms and didn't stop their chanting for a moment. The edges of the balcony were dressed with flowing plants, they trailed down past their feet and grew long vines over the hanging. He looked down at the huge ocean of people. He heard the faint murmurs that erupted from them and a smile escaped his lips. Osahar lifted his hands up to the sky and they cheered loudly for him.

"My people! Blessed is this day! Many years ago, I had a dream. This dream told me to build a temple set unto our beloved Ra. He smiles today upon us as we present this glorious temple to him." Osahar shouted to him, his loud voice carried with the wind, the people cheered for him again. Their voices were carried back to Osahar and he smiled again. The Gods truly have blessed this day. The Pharaoh lifted his head up toward the sun, the bright orb was too magnificent for him too look at. He took it as a sign.

Osahar moved away from the balcony and into the palace. His household, servants included, stood beside him as he walked down a long carpet. They bowed unto him, lowering their heads in respect for their earthly god. Osahar stopped at the edge of the carpet, turned to face them and looked upon each of their faces.

"We will make a trip to my temple, we shall watch a sacrifice happen and worship in his presents." Osahar ordered and then quickly, with his troops around him, excited out of the palace and headed toward the newest monument of Egypt.


-

It was just as beautiful as it was in his dream. Pharaoh stood up on a stone, over looking his household. His royal family up front, his mother and his two sisters with their sons and daughters. They were dressed in delicate clothes to match his own, showing off the most highest standing royal. The Pharaoh's family. Behind them was the lower status royals, bedecked in jewels and it went from there until the servants, females firsts and then the males, stood in the back. Osahar smiled up on, him lifting his hands again toward the huge statue of Ra and said a quick prayer to him.

In front of Osahar, two priests of Re wrestled with a cow. The white heifer was taken upon a large stone clean stone block. She bellowed loudly as she was blessed with herbs and incense. A priest took a knife, held it above his head to whisper something for it. Two other men standing in the back came forward and held down the crying cow. The priest with the knife made one quick slice across her neck and the cow was silenced.

Two huge bowls of incense were then burned to fill the home with the sweet smell and Osahar turned to his household.

"Bow before your god!" He ordered them.

On the way back from the washing, Sered and the women who did the laundry were quickly ordered inside to get cleaned up. The Pharaoh had ordered everyone to attend a sacrifice. That wasn’t too uncommon, and Sered had witnessed many Egyptian sacrifices. His own people sacrificed to Yahweh at times for various occasions, so it was not too much of a shock for him to watch. However, his mind always wandered during those ceremonies. These sacrifices…did they really mean anything? All of the chanting, the incense, the worshiping, the traditions…all of that? He didn’t really have time to ponder all of that at the moment, though because he was soaked, and would have to hurry to begin with.

He hurried to the servants’ quarters, stripped, dried off and changed his clothes before hurrying out of his sleeping area and down the hall. It was a fair distance, but he was lucky the Pharaoh’s procession moved slowly because he made it there as one of the final servants to arrive. He moved to stand with the group with his head bowed as usual, but his eyes did wander every once in a while in order to observe what was going on. His sense of smell was then nearly overloaded by the smell of the incense inside the temple, and his eyes watered just a little as he wasn’t used to that scent. Sered’s eyes widened a little at the command, though. It was from the Pharaoh himself!

Instinctively he started to bow with the rest of the group that was moving immediately to do as ordered, but he then paused. This was against what he had been taught. Many thought that Sered had already shaken off many of his people’s ways by living where he was and wearing what he wore, but this…This would be the final stroke against his people and his God. His God.

Bow before your God!

The phrase echoed in the huge temple, and through Sered’s mind and heart. He swallowed, and even though he knew what would most likely happen he clenched his fists and remained on his feet as everyone else around and in front of him bowed. This was not his God, so he was not going to bow before it.

“Sered! What are you doing?!” Another servant whispered sharply from his position on the floor, but Sered did not answer. He really couldn’t. Right now his pulse was starting to quicken in slight fear, but also a bit of excitement mixed in. He had never stood up like this before, but this was not the usual demands. He would bow out of respect for the Pharaoh, but he would not bow in worship to any other God but Yahweh. He knew that could mean his own death, but the alternative would be worse than death.

Osahar watched as each of them went down on their knees with their faces on the stone before him and the statue of Ra. The hawk stared down at the household and Pharaoh. He watched them, line by line starting with his family back to the lowest servant bow. He smiled as he heard the low murmur of prayers, prays to bless Pharaoh and his home and to bless themselves with good things. They rocked on their knees and picked themselves up and bowed again.

Then someone caught his attention.

In the back, Osahar saw a servant standing with his fists bared. Osahar could see the defiance from where he stood, and it caused his blood to boil. Anger burned inside of him, the hot blood rushed to his fingertips and rammed into his heart. He ground his teeth together and his nostrils flared. His painted cheeks grew heated and he snapped his flail out at him, pointing to him. Osahar clamped his jaw shut and then hissed something low under his breath.

Hebrew.

The priests behind him stopped chanting as he snapped the flail and a few curious sports twisted their head to see what had made the Pharaoh so angry. The Royal Family knew only a few things sparked Osahar, they had never seen him so angry before. It was like someone came in and spat on his face, his home, his family, everything he held dear. The guards lined the walls and they clenched their spears tightly. With one word, Pharaoh could have off with him. He wouldn't have to worry about this tiny pest. Hebrews were a coin a dozen and pretty ones were easy to get.

But no, Osahar lifted his flail and stared down the servant with a harden glare. He would not humiliate him or his God. He would teach that Hebrew his place.

"Why do you not bow, Hebrew? You live under my rule! Your life is spared thanks to me! My Gods are your Gods, show them respect and loyalty by bowing to them!" Osahar snapped his crook to the glaring idol of Ra. Osahar's voice boomed from where he stood. The whole temple grew deathly quiet after he finished speaking. People picked themselves up and stared at the servant. Why would he disrespect the Pharaoh like that?

For Ra's sake, he was a god himself!

Sered’s dark eyes flicked quickly towards the Pharaoh, but he wished he hadn’t. He could sense the tension in the air and the anger directed at him from the ruler of the known world. He asked in a silent prayer for strength because he could feel his fear welling up inside his chest, threatening to choke him and force him to bow in order to spare himself.

However, he had made his choice, and he was sticking with it. No going back now. He would not plead ignorance, or that he did not hear the command because it had been quite clear. Sered looked down at the floor once more and could hardly stand all of the eyes watching him. The question was as clear as the command before, and Sered wondered if he could find his voice. Many were silently hoping that Sered would just keep his mouth shut.

“I am grateful to Pharaoh for sparing me, but this statue is not my God. That is why I do not bow. I worship only one God, and I would not be showing him my respect if I were to bow to your’s. I do not wish to disrespect you or your house, but I revere my God more.” He said in a voice that was soft, but still strong enough to be heard around the room. He was not declaring rebellion, he was merely explaining. However, that explanation brought a large amount of gasps from royals, nobles, guards, and servants alike. Most thought that the Hebrews were too stupid to think for themselves, but to speak in such a way to the Pharaoh?! Many did not see Sered anymore, they merely saw a dead man standing before them. It would be quick, and most likely messy, but Sered had just uttered his last words.

Osahar's anger was spurred at the Hebrew's words. He could hear his blood drumming in his ears and his heart hammering in his chest, his red mouth curled into a snarl and his eyebrows deeply furrowed. This day was to be a day of worship! Of praising Ra who blessed Osahar with his vision of this temple! That Hebrew would pay.

The Pharaoh heard the gasps of horror from his household. His sisters glanced at him, holding their children near to them. It would look like they were protecting their children but really only forced them to look at their uncle, the Pharaoh is utter most respect. He would teach them how to deal with a misbehaving servant - not even a servant, a Hebrew slave.

"You disrespect my God by not offering your loyalty!" Osahar snarled at him, "You disrespect me!" He stepped off the stone he was standing on and marched to the Hebrew. "It is by Ra's will you are alive, Hebrew." He muttered to him, swinging his flail back and hitting the man across the face with it. He heard some murmurs in the crowd behind him, murmurs of approval. "I will not have that! I will not have that!" He yelled at him, swinging his flail again.

His nostrils flared as he squeezed his flail. "Guards!" He called for them and two of them went forward. "Take him, beat him and lock him away. I will not have this pest in the temple of Ra." He sneered the word and glared at him. He picked up his flail again and smack the Hebrew once more across the face. "You will learn to respect me and my Gods."

Sered expected the anger, but he had not expected himself to feel…What was it? Almost like relief? Yes, he was afraid, but part of him felt somewhat liberated as he felt the Pharaoh’s anger. It was strange, because one would not usually feel relief when their life was in danger. However, the liberation came from the fact that he knew he was visible. As a slave he was constantly in the background, and usually completely ignored by…well…everyone. Not that he was craving attention, but to know that he still had some sort of power even if it did bring pain upon himself was a small accomplishment. Then again, he also sounded a bit crazy as he listened to his own thoughts. The flail brought him out of those thoughts and focused on the Pharaoh once again.

He was aware that the flail, even though it was more of a blunt object, brought blood. His lip was bleeding in a couple of places, and he had large welts on his face now from being struck. Sered had reeled back just a little as the last hit connected more with the side of his face than his face, and his head now throbbed in protest. He still understood what was going to happen to him. To some this was worse than death, because the guards did not have a time limit on their beatings. Especially on slaves.

Sered felt vise-like grips on both of his arms and he was pulled back away from Osahar roughly and taken away. He had barely glimpsed a few sad looks on the faces of some of the other servants, and a few other Hebrews had their eyes closed either in refusal to watch or in prayer.

The next few hours were filled with pain, and Sered had managed to not cry out much during the beginning. However, he could only take so much, and soon his throat sounded ragged and his voice was gone. Four hours and six different guards later, Sered, now a heaping mass of bloodied flesh, was dropped roughly into a dirty cell. He could hardly move his eyes to look around. Everything hurt. Lying here hurt. Breathing hurt. Everything. He wondered how long he would last in here…not long if his wounds got infected and even less time if they did not give him food or water or if the Pharaoh decided to go ahead and have him executed.

He was starting to question now…Why? Why did this happen? He knew his thoughts would be considered blasphemous, but why did Yahweh not stop them? Sered felt he had been doing the right thing…Was that not to be commended? Or was it that Ra truly was more powerful?

No! He would not think such things especially not after receiving a beating. He would hold firmly to his beliefs, and if that meant death then so be it. People died everyday for less noble reasons than their faith everyday!

Osahar and his household went back to worshiping in the temple. He heard the murmurs between the worried servants, scared for their lives. It wasn't uncommon for a thing to happen but when it happened, fear seemed to be the only thing to hang on too. Osahar had to keep a firm grip on his people, if he had to use fear to make them obey the Gods then so be it. He would become the very word of fear.

When Osahar exited, the path to the temple was filled with rose petals and people bowing to him and his family. He walked slowly, a bridal walk up the path. His family followed slowly behind with their eyes resting on Osahar's shoulders or the floor below him. All eyes were on the Pharaoh, all eyes were on their God. When he reached the huge wrap around steps on the edge of his palace, he stopped at the last one and turned to his people. They held their breath as he lifted his arms, the crook and flail high above his head. "May Ra bless you this day!" He said, leaving them with comforting words before he turned to into the palace.

With the people behind him, his body was overtaken again by the anger that sparked through him. He grabbed the leopard's head and threw it to the servants - a holy garment in the hands of a dirt slave. He threw the crook and flail to the floor where they clattered to silence. The Royal Family shielded their children from looking upon the unholy tirade. They would not talk about it and those who saw him act like a child would die before they spelled it out. They would not invoke the wrath of the Gods by betraying their earthly host.

He grabbed his nemes and pulled it off of his head and threw it to the floor. Servants hurried behind him, picking up the garments that he yanked off his body until he was left in the special tunic. Priests could only pick up the holy items, the servant that caught the leopard robe would be beaten or killed. Osahar pushed open the door to his room and nearly ripped the tunic off his body. His hand shook with the anger that rushed through him, thick as his royal blood.

"Slave!" He yelled, his voice on the verge of screaming. Servants came in and he ordered them for fresh clothes. Around his waist they tied white linen with red going down the sides of his thighs, on his shoulders was put a smaller thin coat than earlier. He ordered them out, shouting at them to hurry. He was left alone and he went to the large pillar where he stood just hours ago. Today was suppose to be a day of worship! Of praise!

"Ra, forgive me! I have failed you." He whispered, dropping to his knees, fingernails digging into the smooth brick. "I will bring the Hebrews to their knees, I will make them know their place! They will not defy you with their god. You are all powerful!" He seethed through clenched teeth.

Those were his last words before he slipped into his bed and tried to sleep away all his anger. No one came in, no one whispered about him, it was peaceful. Osahar only wished it would stay that way.

Osahar awoke to the cries of the birds by the Nile. The sun was setting beyond the Sahara desert, Nut was swallowing Ra, only to give birth to him the following morning. He moved from his bed to the mirror, his make-up was smudged and the necklaces and bracelets left impressions on his olive skin.

The first thing out of his mouth was, "Where is the slave?" Guards were quick to tell him where he was being held and Pharaoh descended to the cell blocks. He would deal with this outrage personally.

Osahar grabbed a whip from the standing guard and ordered him to open the door to the slave's cell. He fumbled with the gate as he opened it, his second order was for every one to leave.

"Ra is being kind to you, Hebrew. Normally a guard would do this but he kindled my anger so I will deal with you. You should feel honored." He spat at him.

Sered had begun wondering what his family would think. If he died would they be ashamed of him? Would they even acknowledge that he belonged to their family? And his mother…She was such a kind woman, and always so worried that he would remember who he was and who the Hebrews worshipped as he was surrounded daily by the temptations that arose in the palace.

”You remember the story of Joseph, my son?” She would always ask, and had asked since he was a small child.

“Of course, Mother, how could I forget? He saved our people from famine.”

“That is not all, my son. Through every trial that was thrown his way, did he ever once curse God? Did he turn from him?”

“No, Mother….”

Sered was not about to liken himself unto someone so great as Joseph, one of their forefathers. However, the thought of his mother did bring tears to his eyes. He hoped she would not find out about him in a way that would hurt her kind spirit in any way. He hoped she wouldn’t weep for him. He couldn’t stand to see her cry.

Had he brought misfortune down upon his family? The Pharaoh could do as he wished…he could have them slaughtered with the wave of his hand and a simple command. It would not be questioned. Were they alright?

Now Sered was not only in pain, but also worried. However, his body was fatigued beyond what he could handle and he was soon asleep. He jolted awake a little, which sent pain shooting through his body again, when he heard noises. His eyes opened to focus on sandals and clean feet. He forced himself to look up a little and blinked in surprise.

“You should feel honored…”

He should? Oh…sarcasm…Sered couldn’t move at all, and figured that he would die before the Pharaoh took out his anger on him. He could ask for mercy…at least on his family, but asking that made him nervous as he did not want to give the Pharaoh any ideas. Hopefully no one would claim him, and once he was dead this would be over…

ooc: I think I'm being partial to this rp...XD

The prison cells smelled like rotting meat. Blood and dead bodies weren't uncommon. Feces and urine lined the corners of the the cells along with other bodily fluids. The guards often standing would become sick and often would die from the uncleanliness. It was horrible. Many of the servants who knew the few who died would whisper that it was a curse that the dying criminals whispered. Some even wondered if the misbehaving servant would curse Pharaoh. Could Pharaoh even be cursed?

Osahar stood above Sared, letting the tail of the whip fall down beside his feet. The rough leather which was rarely cleaned was crusted over with blood from the deep wounds it inflicted. He would use it for what it was meant to be used for. Hebrew backs weren't strangers to the whip - it would be like greeting an old enemy.

The Pharaoh's anger outweighed his voice, he couldn't speak or less curses would fly out of his mouth. He had no reason not to curse after, after all this servant openly denied his loyalty to Ra. That, in a way, was curse.

He glared into the bruised face of the slave and gripped his whip tighter. The sun's rays flew into the tiny window as Osahar raised the whip. It was like Ra wanted to see this punishment first hand.

"When this is over, you'll wish you never said those disgusting words. I will make you regret your very existence, slave." Osahar hissed and brought the whip down on the already beaten body of Sared.

Even when Sered could hardly move his body still wrenched in pain, and pathetic groans escaped his throat each time the whip was brought down. His eyes shut as tightly as possible now, and after a few moments he no longer made noises. His body continued to flinch as if trying to get away from the source of the pain. Soon, though, his body was too exhausted to even try to get away from the whip. More and more gashes were added to his already broken body. Even the guards had to finally look away from the spectacle. They briefly wondered if the slave was already dead, but between the cracks of the whip they could still hear the labored breathing that rattled deep within Sered’s chest.


Sered was still conscious even though he was no longer moving or able to make noise. He was still aware of the pain as well, and he wished that he could pass out. It would at least be a reprieve from the agony he was in. Although, Sered wondered if he would wake up if he did fall unconscious. However, the stubborn part of his mind also wanted to stay awake to try and prove himself…he wasn’t sure exactly what he wanted to prove.

ooc: so short! Sorry!

The whip was heavy and Osahar's arm grew tired. The room was hot and stunk like the backside of a camel, he was tired and wished for a long hot bath. The tension of the day curled up in his muscles and beating the slave left as angry as he was before. All he really did was make him bleed more. Osahar threw the whip to the ground and stared at the slave. He touched him with his sandal, watching his chest wheeze with every intake of the nasty air. The sun glittered it's final rays and as they touched Sared's jaw and the sweat of his shoulders, Osahar gathered an idea.

"Guards!" He called out and they filed in, the Captain of the Guard stepping forward first. He stood at attention, his heavy stomach spilling out over his loincloth.

"Take him, bathe him, and fix his wounds. Let him rest for a few days and gather his strength. I will show him who has the true power between our Gods." Osahar said softly a voice that make the Captain look twice at him.

"Sir...? Yo-you want us to ... take care of him?" He stumbled and Osahar's glare went from Sared to the Captain.

"Is that not what I asked?"

The guards snapped to attention and quickly to the body of the Sared away. The Captain waiting for the Pharaoh to walk out of the cell before he went after him, watching his back which was gleaming with sweat from the fire on the walls. "When he is good enough to stand - take him to the temple of Ra. I shall be waiting there. I will appoint this task to you, Captain. If something goes wrong and he flees ... it shall be your head."

Osahar finished his threats to the Captain and went to take his bath and formulate more on his beautiful plan.

Sered's body relaxed just a little in relief when the whip hit the floor, but winced when he felt the sandal touch his abused flesh. He had already figured that this was when he would be killed. The Pharaoh had taken his fill of beating him, and now he would command the guards to execute the Hebrew. His eyes widened, though, when he heard what Osahar had said and he managed to look up in complete shock. He was confused, obviously, but couldn't ask why. Not even if he had been able to, he wouldn't dare ask questions.

The captain and other guards watched the Pharaoh walk away with confusion on their faces as well, but then quickly went about hauling the limp man out of the dungeon area and into mostly fresh air. The guards wanted to question it as well, but didn't dare to. Their god had spoken, and they would never question those commands. That's how this Hebrew ended up in the state he was, wasn't it?

The process of cleaning and dressing the wounds took almost as long as the process had been to make them if not longer. However, Sered hardly noticed as he passed in and out of consciousness until he finally was able to just fall asleep. He awoke again nearly a full day later even more confused before because he was actually on a bed...well, a cot, but it was better than the floor that he was used to sleeping on. He was given another bath, and his wounds were dressed again before he was fed, and he slept more. His body was recuperating quickly, thankfully, and soon he was able to stand and even walk on his own again. Slowly, but he was able.

The guards made sure that he was chained now as even in this state the guards felt that he was a threat to them and their Pharaoh. He was in better shape than most of the guards, especially the captain. However, he did not even appear to try to get away from them. The shackles were not really necessary.

The temple was not nearly as busy as it had been a few days ago, but the priests were worshiping mostly. Eyes were once again on the guards and the slave, and one priest came over quickly, "Why in the name of Ra is this...slave in this holy place? Remove him at once!"

"We are under the command of Pharaoh to bring him here." the Captain said simply and even though the priest looked confused, he did not question it.

Sered was still curious, and looked around a little but overall his eyes were on the ground as he was used to doing. Some of his wounds were still bandaged and bruises covered most of his body where there were not gashes or scars forming. The Egyptians had some amazing medicines that did speed up healing, but even those could only do so much. He was far from fully healed, but he was still able to stand on his own even with the heavy shackles holding his arms together in the front and the ones around his ankles as well.

The soft clacking of the cymbals behind the statue of Ra stopped as Osahar appeared in the door way. He smelled of fresh spices and looked like he had just taken a rosewater rich bath. His olive skin was smoothed out with oils, his face painted up with make up to make him look regal, powerful, and overall like a Pharaoh. He was dressed in beautiful white linen with his chest left bare except for the golden plate across his neck. He quietly entered the room with the flail and crook in his hands, arms across his chest.

Osahar looked over the priests and to the guards and Sared. He nodded to the priests walking behind him and they skirted around him went to say prayers. The Pharaoh looked around him and took a step forward toward the battered body of Sared. He walked toward and ordered the guards away. The priests sneaked glances behind their shoulders between chants to look at them, wondering why the Pharaoh would waste his time with a slave.

Osahar looked at the wounds left behind by his whip and he felt his pride puff up, he would have smiled if he wasn't frowning at him. He took his crook and lifted Sared's head until he could see his face. He looked at the bruises and allowed himself to smirk softly.

"What is your name, slave?" He asked, his voice was kept low from the prying priests behind him.




oox.
seems so dwarfed compared to yours.
But I got it. <3

ooc: No worries! I had more to talk about is all. :3

ic:
Sered had glanced in the direction of the Pharaoh when he heard the cymbals stop, and was just as surprised as the guards were when they were ordered away. They moved to spots by the walls where they were still close enough in case the slave tried anything.

At the feeling of the crook under his chin, Sered tensed just a little but relaxed once more in order to allow his head to be lifted. However, his eyes remained downcast even when the question was asked.

"My name is Sered, Highness." He answered softly as he knew not to speak too loudly either. It was strange to have been asked to be brought here instead of executed, but even more strange as the Pharaoh asked him his name. He had never been asked that by a noble let alone a Pharaoh. However, he was starting to realize that he couldn't really predict Osahar to follow what Sered had figured as being typical behavior for a noble. He wasn't sure if that was good or bad, but it made it harder for him to think much about what he needed to do or say...just react. That was always an uncomfortable feeling.

"Sared?" Osahar said, dropping his crook and his head along with it. He traced his eyes over the lines the Hebrew's shoulders and down his arms before retreating back to his face. He took a quick glance to the priests and the guards, they twitched back with their backs toward Pharaoh. Osahar took a few steps away from Sared but rocked on his foot, pressing the crook's head into Sared's chest gently.

"Follow me, Sared." He ordered, his voice firm but still low. He went back toward the doorway from which he came out. He called to a priest, handing him the holy flail and crook. The priest bowed and walked away with them, eying Sered like some unholy plague. Osahar ignored the looks of the priests, walking down the long hallway.

The hallway was not part of his dream but Osahar added it as he felt that him and his family shouldn't have to worship with at the others. Of course, Osahar would appear before the others during holy days but other than that, he and his family would stay behind the light linen curtain.

"In here." He said, stepping to the side and pointing into the doorway of another room. The room was large, a wide window opening it up more. In the middle of the room is a large idol of Ra and Amon, standing next to each other each with their respected power. Beside them on a platform were two giant bowls of perfume, which smoked with their sweet smelling smell.

Sered looked at the crook when it was pressed into his chest and tried not to wince. Where he didn't have a welt or gash from the whip he had a bruise from a beating, so really anything and everything was sore. It was difficult not to react, however, he managed pretty well and it helped that it did not touch him very hard.

He paused only a moment, and followed silently and still as confused as ever. The soft echoes of prayers and chants were now overlay with the chinking of the metal chains that held Sered's arms and feet together. Walking was obviously difficult for many reasons, but he kept up easily enough. Sered allowed himself to look around a little at just how ornate everything was. He would admit that he had never seen anything so extravagant dedicated to a god before...even his own. Although, they did not have the means to make something like this. His people had been nomads before coming to Egypt those hundreds of years before, so creating a temple such as this had never happened.

He walked into the large room, and stopped upon entering. Sered took in a deeper breath than he had as the aroma nearly forced him to. It smelled...well...He wasn't sure how else to term it except sweet, and it calmed his nerves just a little. Not nearly enough to abate them completely, but a little. He remained as silent as before, and even the sound of his chains were quiet as he stood stock still.

Osahar went from the doorway, slowly walking to the other side of the room. From the middle of the room, an shelve jutted out. It was about knee-height and decorated with other small idols. Isis, Nut, Nun, Hawthor, Horus and many other small gods. The walls were decorated with panels telling of the gods and their many adventures. The Pharaoh went to this shelve and picked up a statue, holding the god in his hands. His eyes softened and his lips moved in a quiet prayer as his fingertips caressed the gold plating.

"Do you know why I brought you here, slave?" He asked, keeping his eyes on the idol. He did not say Sared's name - he was still just a slave to him. He finally put the god back, flashing his gaze toward the beaten slave. He went behind the platform holding the bigger statues of Amon and Ra, touching Ra's cheek. His chest rose as he inhaled the sweet smelling incense. He looked over the wounds on the slave and he held up his hand to stop any sort of answer Sared thought he had to answer.

"Of course you don't, you are nothing but a slave. A Hebrew slave at that, you wouldn't know anything." Osahar said as if he felt almost pity for him. "This is my personal area to worship." He explained, spreading his strong arms to the beautifully painted walls. "I do not plan on making this something I normally do. Ra has taken pity on you and he feels you have just been blinded by your Hebrew fables. He watches over you, he is the reason you are still alive standing here today. You are special to Ra." He said, with a smile but the smile was brittle and offered no warmth.

"He wants me to show you that he is all powerful. Him and Amon, powerful gods who want you to know their kindness. Your god does not exist, Hebrew. From what my priests say, your god lead you into slavery."

Sered watched Osahar walk to the idols, and could recognize the various statues dedicated to the gods. He had lived in the palace most of his life, and had been surrounded by them so it came almost as natural to him to be able to name each one as if he had been taught like an Egyptian. Although, there was one big difference...Sered did not believe in them or their power.

However, that was basically thrown right back at him because the Pharaoh did believe in these gods, and felt that his own God was powerless. A fable. He did not like the sound of the pity in the Pharaoh's voice, or the obvious statement that he was ignorant. He could feel anger building up in his chest, and for a brief, very brief moment he wondered how much damage he could do to the Pharaoh before the guards came in here and killed him. They were alone after all, right?

Sered stopped that feeling immediately, though, because not only was it against his character to harm someone out of anger he was also struck by the Pharaoh's words: Your god does not exist, Hebrew. From what my priests say, your god lead you into slavery.

He just let the words sink in, and the doubt built up again as it had even before this incident within the temple. However, he finally swallowed and truly looked altogether stubborn. The Pharaoh was wrong, and it was obvious that he wished to say something but was well-training in keeping his mouth shut and his tongue quiet. Sered wanted nothing more than to educate the Pharaoh, but...well...that would most likely not be happening anytime soon. He would just listen, but as he did so he was still holding onto his beliefs...his culture and heritage. If he didn't have that then he truly was just a slave and nothing more.

Osahar stepped away om the idols of Ra and Amon, toward Sared and stopped in front of him. He placed his hands behind his back, his jaw jutting out and his chest puffed out like a regal bird. The jewels on his neck sparkled from the large window behind him, the rays of the sun making it glitter. His red mouth was turned down in a frown and his eyes narrowed until they became dark black slits. He had wanted some sort of response rather than just the tightening of the jaw. Defiance, Osahar thought, even after all his kindness.

He crossed his arm, looking down at the slave with hint of anger touching at his face. "You say nothing, slave." His voice was low but closer to a growl than just being low. "You say nothing of praise to Ra or Amon. They didn't allow death to overtake you. Yet you say nothing. That is disrespect against me and my gods."

Osahar usually kept a cool head, went with things in a calm manner. It was only sometimes did he get worked up like this and usually those times were rare and secretly held. However, in front of this slave, Osahar found it hard to keep his hand beside him least he strike the slave again.

Sered's eyes focused on the floor, then on the Pharaoh's sandals as he moved to stand in front of him. Where the Pharaoh stood in complete confidence and power, Sered was the opposite. Powerless and far from confident in himself. However, his eyes glanced up once before going back down to the floor. "I...I am grateful that I did not die, but...but I believe, Highness, that my God is real and true. I was always taught that everything is meant for good, even bad things. Perhaps I was taken to the edge of death and back again to show you my God's power. Did your priests tell you what brought about my people coming to Egypt?" He asked softly, and was certain that this was not going to be looked upon well but he might as well get it all out there now.

"My people were nomads for many hundreds of years, but a man, one of my forefathers by the name of Joseph was sold by his brothers and ended up in Egypt...He then rose in power, and became second only to Pharaoh and managed to save Egypt and my people from a seven year famine because my God showed him in the Pharaoh's dreams." Sered said and glanced up once more before swallowing.

"It is not that I disrespect your gods, Pharaoh, but I cannot give up so easily on my God as I have said before. If you wish to have me beaten again for that I will understand, but if you ask me again after-wards my answer will be the same." Sered finished softly and kept his head bowed.

Osahar listened to Sered's words but he took none of them to heart. Joseph was a famous name on the Hebrew's lips. A Hebrew bought and sold as a slave who then became a great man only second to Pharaoh, a Hebrew. Osahar only shook his head, the chains around his neck clinking softly. It was a fable, it had to be. A man who could tell the dreams of Pharaoh when his own holy men could not. He did not want to hear about this Hebrew tale that old mothers would tell to their children to make them hope for a tomorrow without the whip.

He looked over the wounds and gashes on his skin, purple bruises painting his shoulders and his chest like a wall decorated with hieroglyphics, like the ones on either side of Osahar. He thought that those wounds would be enough to make the slave change his mind but apparently not. He had a feeling that if he beat him until he died, his words would not change. While it was disrespectful to the Pharaoh, he had a glimmer of wonder for the slave. If they were that devoted to the gods of Egypt, who knows what they would have been able to accomplish.

Osahar turned around and looked at the beautiful sparkling gold idols. "You do not bow to my gods, even though they stand before you. You have no pictures of your gods to bow down to but still you hold a faith with this god and you bow down to him anyway. After he told Joseph to bring you into Egypt and here you are, slaves now." He turned partly, looking at the bowed head of Sered.

"I do not understand you, Hebrew. Why do you bow to him, you cannot see him. You don't even know if he is there." He asked, curiosity piqued.

"We are slaves now, but who am I to judge what god's plan is for my people? He may have all of us here for a reason. I bow down to him because I have faith as my forefather's did. They could not see god, but still believed, and were saved from peril many times over." Sered said softly, "And you may believe them to be fables, but to me they are truths just as you hold your beliefs to be true." Sered paused a moment and sighed, "And yes, you have gods for everything, but we have one god that we see in everything."

Sered swallowed again and had hazarded one more glance up before looking down at the floor again. He felt as if he answered the question to the best of his ability, however, he still felt so nervous. He'd never had to defend himself on the lines of his faith before...

"He could not control the weather - you said there was famine in your home. You came to Egypt for safety, he could not control it. Your god is weak, slave, he might live for you but he is under the feet of my gods and I wish to hear no more about your faith in him." Osahar said, looking away from him and holding up his hand to command Sered to stop. He was getting thin with these words about a god they didn't even know about. Slaves would believe anything one would tell them, if you told them that the moon caused good crops then they would only plant seeds during the night.

"As long as I am pharaoh, you will boy to my gods, Egypt's true gods." Osahar said, snapping back to the slave. The Pharaoh turned around, placing his hands behind his back, looking at the walls with thoughts running through his head. The sun had gone down only a bit but the shafts of light now went toward the white ceiling. Osahar looked to the windows and then went to Sered, narrowing his eyes. He pointed down to the floor in front of his feet.

"Bow and pray to Ra." He demanded.

Sered appeared to want to respond again to what the Pharaoh said, but held his tongue when the hand was raised. He remembered his place easily, and was actually surprised that he had been able to speak so freely just a moment before. It had felt...well, more than odd to speak to Pharaoh. However, at his statement of Egypt's gods again he swallowed and glanced up once when Osahar was looking out the windows, and he looked down again when Pharaoh turned back towards him.

Bow and pray to Ra? Sered seemed to be frustrated now. He had just given his reasons for why he wasn't bowing and praying to Ra. Had the Pharaoh heard anything of what he said except for the negativity? He usually knew better than to expect much from nobles, but for some reason he thought that perhaps this was different. "I already gave my answer to that request, Highness." He added as gently as possible. He knew it was no request. That was an order, and the trained part of him wanted to follow his orders indiscriminately because he truly did want to appease Pharaoh. However, this was not something that he was going to give up so easily.

Sered had so much more he wished to say, but no way to tell it. Not only could he not speak his mind freely, but it most likely would not be listened to. "I will not bow." He finally said firmly, and did in fact look up now and met Osahar's gaze and shocked himself in the fact that his eyes didn't waiver. A slave, no more like a prisoner with the chains on his wrists and ankles, making eye contact with the Pharaoh. His heart was pounding from pure nervousness, but it did not show on the outside. It was not defiance that showed, though. It was determination.

"You will not bow?" Pharaoh said but he didn't ask a question that needed an answer. His eyes turned darker as he took a step forward and glared at the slave, matching the determination he saw. Osahar could not remember the last time a slave decided to withstand all the torture and pain for his faith and still not break even under the rod of Pharaoh. Sered was a first and with Ra's favor, he would be the last. Before Osahar went to the Afterlife, Sered's knee would touch the holy ground before Ra and he would whisper a prayer before him. He swore it.

"You will not bow." He repeated, his shoulders relaxing from the tension. "You live in my house and still you will not bow before me or my gods. Slave, I could have your head for that. However, Ra decided that your fate would not be death." Osahar said walking away from him, turning to the glittering gold of the idols.

"He shall keep giving you life until his favor waivers in you. He shall bless you although you refuse to bless him. You will find Ra a beautiful god, one that keeps from death." He explained as he called for the guards to come in. They marched up around the shelves around Osahar and Sered, their shields causing a slight racket. The Captain walked up to Pharaoh, his eyes on the floor below him. The Pharaoh asked for the key to the shackles around Sered's ankles and arms. The Captain fumbled for the key around his belt but he knew when he unlocked the chains - Sered would be free to run. (Of course the guards at the door would kill him.)

"Unlock him, Pharaoh?" He asked, already reaching for the chains around Sered's wrists.

"Yes." Osahar said, nodding. A few twists of the key, the chains fell to the ground and the ones around his ankles also. "Slave, you work in my home but no longer shall you be a slave. Ra's favor flow through me just as it does through him. You shall be my servant, slave." Osahar could feel the shock that echoed around the room. A slave upgraded to Pharaoh's servant was usually because the slave did something wonderful for the Pharaoh - not defy his gods. "You are determined to keep faith with your god. I like that." He said, the brittle smile touching his red lips but his dark eyes still remained dark.

"However," Osahar grabbed Sered's chin, their eyes meeting once again, "I shall take great pleasure in breaking you down, slave. Defy me again, I shall kill you."

Sered probably looked the most shocked out of the group at what the Pharaoh said. He was being...promoted?? This was the last thing that he expected, but that made him even more nervous. However, while rubbing his wrists and glancing at the dumbfounded guards but his attention was soon brought back to the Pharaoh. He would be the first to admit that the look Pharaoh was giving him gave him chills. Osahar was a very powerful man, and to be looked at in such a way was intimidating.

His eyes glanced down at the hand that grabbed his chin and he stiffened when he met Osahar's eyes once more. Sered swallowed, but didn't move other than that. His dark brown eyes were wide, but there were still traces of that determination remaining. He wasn't going to just wilt up now that he had stood up to the Pharaoh this long. He was also determined to show him how strong his spirit was, because he wasn't planning on breaking easily.

Sered didn't know what to expect now, though. So far Osahar had met all former expectations of what Sered thought of him, and yet at the same time the Pharaoh had shocked and surprised him. He wasn't sure how Osahar would react next, so he just remained silent and still now. Nothing was asked of him, so he was not supposed to make a reply. The threat was made so nothing else needed to be said or done at the moment.

The look in Sared's eyes only fueled his want to bring this slave to his knees. He released Sared, and flicked his fingers to the guards who surrounded them and they lead him away. They would bring him back into the palace, back to his quarters, and back to his life before any of this happened. Of course he would only remain there for this one last night, but was still one night to wear the last of his old shoes. The guards whispered to him as they left, telling him not to tell anyone what happened in the temple or they would put him to death. The Pharaoh's words were regarded as sacred as they controlled everything in Egypt.

Back in the temple, with the priests calling out beautiful chants to the gods, Osahar breathed in deeply. His body was get to a golden glow as the rays of the sun washed over his skin. The oils he applied that morning caused his skin to shine like the dark jewels on his hands. He left his private room, walking through the light linen curtains to the huge statue of Ra. Behind him, he listened to the chants and whispered his prayer to Ra as he stood before him. He raised his hands above him, leaning his head back to look at the ceiling. His plan had not fully worked but Ra refused to listen to the cries of the flesh and Osahar needed to listen to him. He had other plans for the slave, Osahar just had to find out what Ra wanted from him.

He left the temple smelling like incense and hopeful prayer on his painted lips.

Sered didn't have to be told twice about not telling anyone, and decided to remain silent on the long walk back to the slaves' quarters within the palace. However, keeping that silence was nearly impossible when he was left with the other slaves who were all equally amazed that Sered was back with them, but also the simple fact that he was alive was enough to cause a near uproar among the group. He simply told them that God was merciful to him, and that he had done so through the Pharaoh but nothing more than that.

A couple of the older women had told him that they had spoke to his mother the day before and that she had been practically ill with how worried she was. Sered knew that he should go ease her heart, but he was not going to test his luck by trying to go see her now. He would just have to send word to her somehow.

After the commotion of his return to them died down, Sered was able to have a simple meal with all of them before most retired for the night. However, Sered was far from able to get any sleep. He still was in shock with how these events had turned. Just as Osahar was trying to figure out what Ra's will was, Sered was trying to figure out what God's plan was in all of this. Or was this part of a plan at all? He didn't know, but he hoped that he would be shown what purpose all of this had soon.

Sered sat at the edge of the room and had watched the sunset through one of the windows, and at some point he had fallen asleep in the night but awoke early as the sunlight had returned and was shining on his face a bit too brightly to be comfortable. He rose and used some of the water they were given to clean themselves with before the others started waking up as well. He was still trying to find a way to know what to expect from today, but so far he had learned that his days were becoming much more complicated than they had before...