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Ch 7: The Pharaoh Is Coming!!

The Pharaoh. Coming to Skorwind on business. I remembered reading about them as a student in my last life. The word for him was not much different than king, emperor, or czar. Oftentimes, a king or a czar was chosen by god to rule. He was a mouthpiece for divinity. The Pharaoh, however, was revered as a god himself. In this world, could he be?

I touched my cheek. Magic was real. I knew firsthand that gods were real. Could this Pharaoh actually be a god incarnate? I wondered how much the gods messed with this world. Did they mess with the last one? Did they stop? Five years ago, when I was born again, they sent me to this world and said it was ‘relatively new.’ Why did they work on another one? Was it like programming, where the first couple millennia were only the beta phase?

While my father fretted the days before the Pharaoh’s arrival, I concentrated on my studies. The brainsoak started to work. My maid and mother talked elvish nonstop. I could understand most of it. It actually put a spring back in my mother’s step. I could tell she liked having Hestiana around. Another elf. She was the only one in the neighborhood. Occasionally we’d get a wandering merchant from her home country and she’d stop to chat with them, but that was rare. Being able to speak elvish freely with her son made her feel more connected, I think. I hate to say it but maybe I was becoming a mama’s boy. Because while my mother had been doting over me, Timu had been doting over the Pharaoh.

I guess the Princep who ran this city was making sure everything was spic and span for when the ‘god’ arrived. Timu was working most nights late as they did drills for different scenarios. The Pharaoh wasn’t coming alone. Apparently when he traveled, it was with a whole convoy. A platoon of this country’s finest goons.

My dad said he would let me be in the porter tower when he arrived as long as I stayed out of the way. It sounded good to me. I had met more gods than most and I had my curiosity if this pharaoh was up to snuff.

When the day finally came I was in my dad’s office. I looked out the window, getting a great view of our neighborhood, the copper ring. As I had my head over the balcony, Timu showed me how he kept track of who came in and who left. He explained to me that everyone had to have a valid reason and sometimes the appropriate permits for walking in the city. I think he wasn't sure how to handle a five year old. If I didn’t have an adult mind ninety percent of this stuff would have flown over my head. I wish it did fly over my head because it wasn’t interesting.

“This is good for me to take you occasionally,” Timu said, “You’ll be starting work with us in a couple of years.”

I gave him a funny look. Hesti had mentioned that same thing. He could tell there was something on my mind. He quickly turned around and showed me a map of the city that hung on the walls, pointing out where we were while showing that the inside of the city was made up of different concentric circles.

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“What if I don’t want to be a porter?” I asked.

“Of course you do, son,” my dad said, “Do you know how precious this job is? I get paid well and soon your mother and I will be able to retire inside the Bronze Ring. This is exactly the job you want. Besides, think of all the important people you get to interact with!”

“Bronze spring?” I sidestepped the small point in favor of being a porter as I stare at the map behind him.

“You know how we live in the copper ring? Well, that's just its nickname. You see it started with the center. The wall was topped with gold to make the city cooler. Then, as the city grew, they tried the outside room with silver because they didn't have enough gold, which didn't work as well. For the third expansion, they used bronze. And the traders and craftsmen who couldn’t get inside started their own little neighborhood right on the outside of the walls. We call those the Copper Rings.”

“So you can save up your whole life just to retire early and live behind the wall?”

“That's right, son. You can move in with us, have a place to stay without any rent while you work the porter job and maybe eventually you'll be able to retire in the silver ring. And then maybe your kid, my grandchild, can live slightly closer to the gold ring if he saves up too.”

“Why couldn't my kid live in the golden ring?”

“Well it's just that that's really reserved for nobles and very rich merchants and it's not likely for a porter to get a place there.”

“What if I wanted to live there? In…” I squinted my eyes to make out the scribbled in font, “in the Diamond Palace?

The Diamond Palace was the name of the palace where the princep lived. it wasn't actually Diamond but its edges were crystalline in appearance, and it had a lot of glass. It took an architect from the next country over to figure it out and workers and laborers 25 years to build it.

My dad's eyes went wide and his mouth opened and let out laughter, “Gods, son. You're certainly smart enough, I'll tell you that much! If it was smarts and smarts alone that gets you there, then you'd be king of the world!”

He picked me up and placed me on his shoulders. I assumed it was meant to reassure me. It didn’t.

“I'm learning Elvish. If I learn it well enough I could become a translator. Maybe then I could make money and not stay poor?”

My dad's grip on me softened and he placed me back on the ground. He could tell I wasn't letting up, “That'd be a great idea, son. If there's ever a book you need, I'll make sure you get it. Don’t hesitate to ask. I’ll even buy you a library card.”

I hugged his legs. Rubbing my cheek on his knees. He was trying his best. I could see that. I didn't come from a world where the limits of class were so obvious and I was still learning a lot about it.

My dad kept explaining the intricacies, or rather simplicities of his job. He showed me how he liked his coffee and let me know that he was allowed to drink up to three cups of honey wine on duty.

My dad’s eyes glimmered when he explained that he got double day's wages on holidays. Clearly still trying to sell me on the life of a porter. I nodded. I listened. I took it all in. And I was bored to my core. My dad woke up every day, sat on his butt and made sure people with a pass could walk in. I thanked him for showing me and left that day. The first thing I did was crack open the elven scroll Hesti got me and I poured over every inch of it again, wondering what other languages would help me never become a porter.