Chapter 1 - The Voice
He was eight years old when he first heard the voice.
Stand up
Menes was surprised. He was crouched in the shallow white sands near the outskirts of the Wahj Moo Everspring, examining a bush that a long, scaly creature had just slithered beneath. He thought he was alone.
“Hello?” he said, standing and looking around him.
Turning Menes saw a figure, not 10 feet from where he was crouched. Hefty and tall, with curly blond hair, Menes recognized Khase. The boy, 2 years Menes’s senior, was frozen in mid-step - his body hunched slightly, as though he were trying to blend in with the surrounding vegetation.
“How’d you notice me you freak?” he asked, straightening and trying to look casual, “I’m sure I didn’t make any noise.”
“You… told me to stand up.” Menes replied cautiously. Khase was larger than Menes by a head, and often took advantage of that fact when adults weren’t around.
“No I didn’t! You just said ‘Hello’ and then turned and looked at me.”
Menes mirrored Khase’s confusion. Part of his brain was trying to figure out what that voice was if it wasn’t Khase, but the rest was trying to think of the best way out of this situation.
“Ah… sorry, I thought I heard something. Sorry. What’s up?”
Hearing Menes’s apology, Khase seemed to regain his usual swagger. He stepped closer.
“Nothing,” he said casually, “Just exploring. And look what I’ve found!” He smiled. “A little bug playing with bushes.”
The situation was deteriorating more quickly than Menes expected.
“Ah, haha yeah! I thought I saw a lizard…” Menes looked down.
“A lizard! That makes sense, looking for another one of your kind! Trying to find a mate?”
“It.. might have been a snake…” Menes trailed off. At least he was upgraded from a bug to a lizard.
Menes felt Khase move, and braced himself for the smack that landed across the top of his head.
“Don’t you know it's rude to look away when someone’s talking to you?”
“Sorry!” Menes knew it was better to just apologize, any resistance would just end in bruises. He looked up and met Khase’s eyes briefly. Menes couldn’t help but notice how polished Khase looked compared to him. Khase was wearing white harem pants, loose around his legs, but tapered neatly to his ankles. Above, a crisp white vest inscribed with lines of glowing gold showing the symbol of the noble Sobe family - a three-tailed giant scorpion. Nasty in real life, the Sobe family mirrored the monster’s nature.
He couldn’t help but compare himself to Khase - smaller by at least six inches, wearing only some torn hand-me-down pants made from a sack that was repurposed when it was too worn out to continue serving its purpose. Neither of them wore shoes - their feet were accustomed to the hot sands, and shoes were reserved for adults who needed them for their work, or for nobles to show their status and wealth.
Menes knew he had no chance in a fight with the boy. The Sobe family started training their children’s bodies at a young age, having them carry sacks filled with rocks and sand, and feeding them meat from the desert’s many monstrous inhabitants. True combat training didn’t start until their teens, but Khase still represented a physical threat that Menes didn’t think he could hope to match.
Is that so?
“Huh?” Menes looked around for the voice.
Khase saw Menes glancing around and quickly looked as well.
“What are you looking for? Is someone else here?” Khase asked. He probably wouldn’t get in serious trouble for hitting Menes, but still better not to be seen if possible.
“No I uh… did you not hear that?”
“Oh I get it. You want me to ask, ‘hear what?’ and then you’re going to make some stupid joke at my expense. I’m not going to fall for that!”
Menes did not have that planned.
“No! I really thought I heard something!”
“Enough of this! I’m sick of your games! I’ll show you what happens when you tease the Sobe family!”
The blows came quickly, but Menes knew they were coming. He allowed the first strike to knock him to the ground, where he quickly curled into a ball to protect his vitals. Pain radiated through him as kicks landed on his back and ribs. Khase didn’t kick his head - there could be real consequences if he seriously hurt or killed Menes - but a simple beating would be fine, especially with no witnesses. Once he tired of playing, Khase spat on him, kicked some dirt atop his victim, and stomped off muttering about stupid pranks and immature children.
Menes remained curled into a ball until he couldn’t hear Khase any longer, then waited another 60 seconds to be sure. He slowly got to his feet and dusted himself off. He was in pain - his ribs and back felt bruised, but nothing was broken or beaten too badly, and the marks could be covered if he put on a shirt. He felt a little bit like crying, but that had never solved anything for him before, and there was no one he could cry to within miles.
That was pretty sad.
Menes whirled around.
“Who's there?! Show yourself!”
It’s not your fault. You don’t know any better. But I can fix that.
“Fix it? How? Who are you and where are you?”
Menes was starting to become properly afraid now - this was different from facing Khase. Khase he could predict somewhat, and he knew he wouldn’t end up dead. A mysterious, disembodied voice was a fully unknown entity, and in the desert, unknown entities were automatically considered extremely dangerous. It wasn’t long ago that another child had found a metallic object while exploring the outskirts of the Nome. He activated it somehow, and when his parents found what was left of him… they were still in mourning.
You don’t need to speak aloud. I am in your mind.
“In my… mind?”
You do not need to speak aloud.
You’re in my mind?
We are in this mind, yes.
What are you?
You’re not ready to know. But, I’m on your side. I want what you want.
I’m telling my parents.
Feel free.
Menes sprinted out of the vegetation towards his home.
- break -
After not-quite a minute his sides started burning, and his breaths became fast and heavy. He slowed to a more sustainable trot. It would take at least 20 minutes to get back. If he tried to sprint the whole way in the heat, the sand beneath his bare feet would sap his energy. He would collapse before he could tell anyone about the strange voice.
You have poor stamina, and you don’t know how to run properly.
Shut up! I don’t want to hear it! Leave me alone!
Don’t step randomly. Look for spots where the sand is packed more firmly, it will take less of your energy. Land with your whole foot so you don’t sink as deeply with each step. When you descend from a dune, let gravity carry you downwards. Use your knees.
Menes ignored it. He wasn’t going to follow the advice of something that he didn’t trust.
Around him, the terrain had changed. When he was close to Wahj Moo, the soil was damp, and there were plants and shrubs around him. Now, he was in the desert proper, with the glaring sun beating down upon his uncovered back, and little dunes rippling all around.
He could have run straight north to Nome Sefet, but then he’d be dodging greenery, and if he encountered any workers they might stop him. Plus, there were venomous snakes near the Everspring, and if he moved quickly he wouldn’t be able to spot them. Wahj Moo was almost directly west of Nome Sefet, but he had to travel south to actually explore it, since technically he wasn’t supposed to poke around there without supervision, and if he were seen it would lead to a scolding, which would slow him down. It was nearly a miracle that Khase had found him there at all - a truly unfortunate miracle.
Rising over a dune, Menes saw Nome Sefet in the distance. Nestled at the foot of the Akhet Mountains, Sefet was surrounded by an outer wall of tall smooth stones, painstakingly mined, transported, and erected by thousands of laborers over generations. He could just barely see figures standing at attention in the watchtowers, looking for any desert monsters that happened to wander too close. The throngs of people bustling around the southern entrance looked like a swarm of ants gathered around a fallen sugarstalk. Inside, he could see the inner walls that subdivided the Nome into different districts.
Within the Nome and above the tallest walls, Menes could see Khaem—the massive, extremely forbidden metal structure. It stood at the Nome’s center, towering over everything. Only permitted to the Nomarch and those he selected, its many jagged edges struck out at the sky around it, dwarfed only by the mountains behind. From this distance the wall, Khaem, and the mountains framing it all made quite a spectacle.
As he approached the southern entrance, he finally slowed, panting. Around him, hundreds of people filtered in and out of the Nome. Laborers with bundles full of fresh produce harvested from the Grower fields carried their precious cargo on their backs, or if they were lucky, loaded onto a Zozoz. The pale heavy animals plodded listlessly along their directed route, shoving unaware pedestrians out of the way with their rounded tusks.
Vendors shouted over each other, their voices merging with the aroma of spiced skewers and the sweet smell of fresh juice. He watched as the throng parted for a Skimmer hovering above the sand, rough metal hull shimmering in the sunlight and engines thrumming with keen-eyed soldiers looked out through sand-blown viewports. As soon as a clear path emerged, it accelerated, zipping over the dunes and into the desert, waves of sand billowing in its wake.
Menes inserted himself into the section of the throng that was pushing and shoving their way towards the gate. The gate itself was an imposing barrier meant to be both functional and intimidating. The entrance was flanked by two stone towers, built into the wall itself, with artifact turrets poking out of carved embrasures. Near the base, guards in the standard uniform of Nome Sefet stood at attention. They donned tanned insectoid hides dyed red and gold reinforced with metal plates harvested from the fallen bodies of destroyed Sentinels. The lowest tier guards had swords or spears, but Menes caught a glimpse of a Khasut clad in gray robes leaning against a wall, equipped with a long, nasty-looking metal artifact with sharp serrated teeth.
He let himself be carried along in the momentum of the crowd.
Bumped and bustled through the entrance, he emerged into Nome Sefet proper, where the smells and sounds of the vibrant city enveloped his senses. Here the Vendors were relegated to the western streets that lead to the market district, but their stalls were squeezed to the very edge of their allowed territory, and maybe slightly past, all shouting at those who entered this gate to sample their goods in the hopes of landing a sale.
Ahead of him, the statue of Nomarch Duaenre stood sternly overlooking all who dared to enter his domain. The imposing 20-foot-tall statue stared unblinkingly toward the gate, arms crossed over his chest in a pose of mild dissatisfaction—the primary emotion the Nomarch was said to express.
From here Menes could head along the north-western street to get to the market district, or north-east to head to the mines, but his goal was neither of those places. Instead, he went straight north, towards the lower-class residential district where his family lived.
As he walked he noticed children his age playing a game he recognized.
“Menes! I’ve been looking for you, I went to your house but you weren’t there!”
It was Hannu, one of his classmates who hailed him. The boy was 6, like Menes and they lived near each other. Hannu was only a little taller than Menes, with short blonde hair and tanned skin like all the male children of the lower classes. He and Menes had grown up together and they were good friends.
“I’ve been outside exploring!” Menes explained as Hannu drew nearer, “I can’t play right now, I have to go back home right away!”
“What? Why? There’s still plenty of daylight, come play with us! We need another person to round out our numbers!”
As Hannu approached, Hannu’s eyes traveled down to Menes’ torso, which had a number of welts and bruises.
“What happened to you? You look like you got trampled by a Zozoz!”
“I got caught by Khase while I was outside of the city. He thought I was teasing him so…”
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“Ah, well that makes sense. In that case, you look great all things considered! Listen, don’t let him get you down, come play with us!”
“I can’t! I have to go back and talk to my parents. Something weird is going on.”
“C’mon, you know that telling on Khase isn’t going to do anything. He won’t get in any trouble.”
“It’s not that! It's something else - something weird is happening to me. I’m hearing a strange voice in my head.”
“Well… what does it sound like?”
“It… sounds like my voice? But different. Deeper maybe?”
“Isn’t that just… thinking?” Hannu proposed, “I hear my voice in my head all the time. Is this your first time thinking? That would explain a lot.”
“It’s not thinking! It’s like thinking except I can’t control what it's saying!”
“What is it saying?”
“Nothing right now. It told me to stand up when Khase was coming after me, and it said some other stuff…” Menes tried to remember, “about how to run properly on sand.”
“Huh. Well, if it's not saying anything right now you’re probably fine. Come play with us?”
Menes considered this. He hadn’t heard the voice in a while, and he knew if he went home he’d probably have to do chores and wouldn’t be able to come out again… would it really hurt to play for a little while? He looked over Hannu’s shoulder and saw Tefibi and Minmose - with three people they did need one more for the teams to be even.
Screw it.
“Okay sure, I’ll play!”
“That’s the Menes I know! Come on my friend, do you want offense or defense?”
- break -
The sun had set behind the western wall when Menes opened the battered wooden door to his home. Inside the smell of his mother’s cooking made his mouth water.
The interior of Menes’ home was bare and simple. A small stone building only a single story, with a tattered tarp serving as a roof. There were only 4 rooms in his little home. The entrance opened straight into the dining room furnished with a single dusty rug in the middle of the floor, beside the same rickety table that had been there as long as Menes could remember. Directly across from the threshold was the kitchen, where Menes could hear his mother fussing with their old stove. To his right was the bathroom - the only other room in the house which had something resembling a door. To his left was their shared bedroom, with two beds. His mother and father shared one, and he shared the other with his sister.
As he stepped inside, his sister Seshe poked her head through the curtain leading to their bedroom. When she saw him she frowned, then retreated back behind the curtain.
Nice to see you too.
“Menes! Is that you? Before you get settled, fetch some water from the well. I’m running out!”
How Shemay was able to tell it was him simply from the sound of the door opening was something Menes did not understand.
“Aw mom, I just got back! Can’t I have a snack first?”
“No! Right now!” Shemay scolded, “You’ve been out playing all day, make yourself useful.”
“Where’s dad?” Menes stalled.
“He’s not back yet and you know that. Go!”
“Can’t you make Seshe come with me? I’ll be lonely!”
There was a pause.
“Seshe! Go with your brother.”
“But Mom!”
“GO!”
Seshe sulked out of the bedroom. His younger sister glared at him sullenly.
“Why did you drag me into this? I was busy.”
Menes turned back for the door, grabbed the rusty bucket that sat adjacent to the door, and started out towards the well.
“What were you doing?”
Seshe trotted to his side to catch up.
“I was practicing reading! Dad says someone in this family besides mom needs to be smart. I was going to surprise him!”
“I’m smart!”
“You’re dumb.”
“I’m not!” Menes retaliated.
“You are!” Seshe returned leaving no room for argument.
Menes changed his strategy. With a smooth, practiced movement, he grabbed Seshe and threw her over his shoulder, then spun in a fast circle.
“Who’s dumb now?!”
“Stop! I’m sorry! You’re not dumb!”
“Are you sure? Should I spin faster?”
“I’m sure! I’m sure! Put me down!”
He gently placed Seshe back on her feet. She was two years younger than he was, and she was downright tiny. She had wide, inquisitive blue eyes, and she was very expressive. She was always easy to read, her emotions plain on her face.
Right now she was pretending to be mad that he picked her up, but he could tell from her smile that she thought it was at least a little fun.
“Have you seen dad today?” Menes asked.
“No,” Seshe responded, “he left before I woke up. He’s been gone a lot recently.”
“Maybe he’s getting promoted soon! He’s definitely working hard enough!”
Menes wasn’t really sure what his father did during the day. He was vaguely aware that was a soldier a long time ago - back when he lived in the other Nome with mother - but after he lost his arm he had retired from fighting. Now he spent his days in the Great House - the palace where the Nomarch, his family and his many attendants lived. Menes had only ever seen the massive, heavily guarded building from afar, but he was always proud his father worked there.
Their father was the only reason that they had the quality of life they did - while they were considered low class citizens, they did receive certain benefits that the true bottom class did not. Menes and Seshe were allowed to go to school, their family owned a home, and they didn’t need to beg for food and water. Whatever their father Qen did, it was enough to keep them from starving.
They walked in silence for a few minutes while the darkness settled in around them. In the surrounding homes, candles and oil lamps were lit, causing flickering lights to dance across the cobblestone path to the nearest well. The lights were nice, but Menes didn’t need them. He walked this path many times, and could get to the well and back in pitch darkness.
“I hope dad gets promoted.” Seshe broke the silence.
“Oh yeah? Why’s that?” Menes asked.
Seshe hesitated.
“What is it?”
“I know I should be happy with what we have, and I am! But… sometimes when mom takes me to the market and I see all the nice stuff there is - I mean, so many pretty clothes! Made from stuff that doesn’t itch too. But she only buys the cheapest vegetables, and we almost never eat any meat.”
Menes remembered Khase’s pristine dress and felt a pang of longing. He imagined how he’d stand proudly if he had similar clothes. Still…
“Seshe we must be thankful for what we have. Dad works very hard for us, if it were not for him, we would be on the street!”
“I know that!”
“That’s why you must become smart like Mom, so that you can get a good job working for the Nomarch, and Dad can retire!”
Seshe looked up at him and smiled.
“You think I can work in the Great House one day?”
Menes smiled back.
“I know you can.”
- break -
When they arrived back at their house, a bucket filled to the brim with clean water, a familiar sight greeted them. A large man sat at the wobbly table in the center of the room. Dusty blonde hair speckled with gray, wearing a clean vest and long, loose pants. He looked too proper for his surroundings. It was as though he belonged in a noble’s sitting room holding a cocktail rather than at the table he now found himself.
Yet as he turned, smiling at the both of them, he seemed to be perfectly at home.
“Dad!” they both shouted excitedly, but Seshe was faster. She launched herself at their father, jumping into his chest where he caught her with his arm, forcing him to stand up for balance or be knocked over.
Only slightly behind, Menes wrapped his arms around his father’s waist.
“Dad! It’s good to see you. How was your day?”
“It was a long day son, but,” he looked down at Menes’ injured back, “it seems like you had a long day as well. What happened?”
“Ah,” Menes had forgotten to think of an excuse. If he told his father what Khase did it would only trouble him.
“I was playing with some other boys from class and things got a bit rough. It's no worries though, we were just playing! It looks worse than it is.”
“It looks pretty bad.”
“It's nothing! I feel fine!”
“Are you being bullied?”
“Dad! No! It was just playing, seriously. I’m just fine, I had fun!”
Qen crouched down and looked in Menes’ eyes without putting down Seshe who had her arms wrapped around his neck.
“You must tell me if you’re having any problems, Menes. It's my job to make sure you’re safe.”
“I know dad! It's fine, seriously. It's nothing. I’d tell you if it were.” Menes lied, looking away.
A moment passed where Qen seemed to be considering something.
“Okay Menes. Just remember you can always come to me, alright?”
Menes smiled. “I know.”
At that moment, Shemay came strutting out of the kitchen carrying a large pot. She was tall, almost as tall as Qen, with a straight back and long blond hair that fell at her waist. She walked quickly and purposefully to the table and set down her burden. Immediately the smell of cabbage soup filled the room.
“Children, separate yourselves from your father and set the table.” As she spoke she eyed Menes’ wounds, then looked at Qen. He gave her a small shake of his head, and she pursued it no further.
Reluctantly, Menes stopped hugging his father and walked into the kitchen to grab plates. Behind him, Qen gently placed Seshe on her feet, and she scampered up behind Menes.
Their kitchen was small, only just enough space for Menes and Seshe to fit together with the stove and single cupboard along the back wall. The stove itself was made from rusted iron and heated by wood - it was something they could only get through Qen, since metal was mostly reserved for those in the middle and upper classes in Nome Sefet. Nome Sefet was one of the few Nomes capable of smelting their own iron, due to mining the ore veins that ran through the Akhet mountains. Normally, metal was only acquired by harvesting the massive, ancient battleships littered around Meryn, and scavenging the remnants of the monstrous Sentinels that guarded the ruins, and hunted anything that moved throughout Meryn’s vast expanse.
Menes opened the cupboard and grabbed the plates - all four of them, and handed them to his sister. Then he grabbed their wooden utensils, and followed her back out into the kitchen. As Menes and Seshe placed the dishes around the table, Qen and Shemay spoke.
“How was work today?” Shemay asked.
“It was fine. Nothing special.” Qen responded.
“Any news?”
This was the habit for their family. Working in the Great House, Qen would occasionally overhear information that was reserved for those closest to the Nomarch Duaenre - his family, and those he had chosen to elevate to higher statuses, who lived and worked in the Great House with the Nomarch.
“I heard some. A convoy is being prepared and filled with iron and stone. We will send it North, to Nome Hata. In return they will provide us with silks, fabrics, spices and artifacts. It will be escorted by the Nomarch’s soldiers, as well as some merchants and their guards who wish to move their own goods along with the convoy for additional safety. I imagine at least a dozen Skimmers in total escorting two or three Crawlers. Maybe 400 or so people will be going.”
Menes and Seshe sat down and they all began to eat. The meal was a salted cabbage soup, with a few potatoes interspersed throughout.
“Won’t that leave us undefended if something happens?” Menes asked.
“No. In truth, the Nomarch’s foot soldiers number in the thousands and only a dozen or so Khasut will be traveling with the caravan. It will not significantly impact our defenses.”
A shiver ran down Menes’ spine at the mention of Khasut. These were true desert warriors - those who had gained the attention of one the noble families, the local Vizier, or the Nomarch himself, and had received specialized training to act as a special combat force. They were allowed to use artifact weapons, and were considered the greatest combatants in the Nome. It was said that a single Khasut was the equal of 10 regular soldiers.
“There’s other news as well. This pertains to you two,” Qen eyed Menes and Seshe, “A scouting party found the corpse of a giant serpent on the Eastern side of the mountains. It was several miles northeast of Sefet, but… it had burns and slashes along its body. I’m sure you know what that means.”
Menes did. Burns and slashes could be artifact pirates, or while unlikely, a Sentinel. Usually the Akhet mountains provided a natural barrier between Sefet and the inner desert, where Sentinels were more common. The range extended almost 100 miles to the North, and roughly a dozen miles south. Sentinels had occasionally come around the southern edge of the mountains, but it was very uncommon. A Sentinel traversing over the top of the mountain to reach Nome Sefet from the east had never happened, as far as Menes knew.
“This means for the time being, the mountains are off limits to you both,” Qen looked at Menes, “Am I understood?”
“Yes sir!” Menes and Seshe responded. Seshe never went to the mountains anyway, but Menes went there frequently to explore. He loved climbing and jumping along the rocks, and he was disappointed he wouldn’t be able to for the foreseeable future.
Qen nodded, satisfied.
“Besides that, nothing interesting. How are things at home?”
Dinner continued peacefully, Shemay spoke about going to the market and how the stove needed some repairs, and Seshe talked about how she was practicing writing the letters from some of the schoolbooks she’d brought home. Qen was very proud when she told him, and he tussled her hair, causing her to smile brightly.
After dinner, Menes went into the shared bedroom and retrieved the bag of books and papers he kept stored underneath his bed. He had class tomorrow, and he needed to finish his homework or he’d be scolded. He spent the rest of the evening scrawling a paper about the lifecycle of Sweetstalk.
After a few hours his bruises and aches started making themselves known - no better way to bring out the lingering pain than to sit in one place and try to concentrate on homework. He wrote a halfhearted conclusion, then went off to the bathroom to brush his teeth and get ready for bed. Many of Menes’ friends didn’t care much for their hygiene, but Qen insisted. He said that if you wanted to move up in the world, you needed to be clean.
Their bathroom was by far the most expensive part of their home. They had a mirror, a sink with running water, and a toilet that was connected to the city’s sewer system. They even had a small single-person tub that they filled with water from the sink for bathing. All these furnishings were extremely basic and quite old, but they really shouldn’t have had them at all. Without Qen’s connections to the Great House, they’d be using the public latrines like the other low-class citizens, which had a unsavory reputation.
Finally, body aching, Menes allowed his legs to carry him to bed. Seshe was already there, lying peacefully across far more than her allocation of their thin mattress. He unceremoniously shoved her to the side eliciting a grumpy grumble before lying down beside her and closing his eyes. He was surprised by how tired he felt - usually it took him quite some time to fall asleep, but he felt himself drifting off almost immediately. He allowed himself to be carried off into dreamland as he listened to the quiet voices of Shemay and Qen talking in the other room.
- break -
It was still dark when his eyes opened. His right arm was dangling off the bed, his knuckles scraping the cold floor. Seshe must have asserted her dominance while he was sleeping, because a fair portion of his body was dangling off the bed, and their shared blanket was suspiciously missing from any part of his body.
He grumbled inwardly considering shoving her over, taking his share of blanket, and going back to sleep, but… he didn’t really feel tired. He lay still for a moment, listening to the soft sounds of his family breathing in the darkness. His fingers twitched against the cold stones, and he resolved himself.
Slowly he rose, stepping off the bed and onto his feet. Immediately Seshe spread herself into the small portions of the mattress he had occupied moments before. She released a contented sigh. For someone so small he didn’t understand how she could take up so much room.
He wasn’t quite sure what time it was, but his internal clock told him it was likely an hour or so before sunrise. He usually never woke early, and wasn’t quite sure why he felt so awake. Getting out of bed was usually a chore, and he slept as long as possible before Shemay dragged him out. Sometimes literally.
He quietly snuck into the dining room and sat at the table. There was really nothing for him to do with himself until the sun rose - he couldn’t do any homework since getting his bag from under the bed would be too noisy, and if he turned on a light it might wake someone up.
He decided he’d go for a walk. He carefully opened the door, and stepped out into the darkness.
Good morning.