Not quite a month had passed, though Ellen wasn’t certain exactly how she knew that. The story had unfolded around them all as they sat in the little conference room. The walls of the quaint little building on Cary Street couldn’t actually be seen now, unless she squinted hard and concentrated on them being real… and there. The angry Egyptian man, Tamir possibly, where he sat across from Ellen resplendent in his blazingly white suit, was hazy and difficult to see now as well.

He sat in his comfortable looking office chair, refined and handsome. But, very much in a sour mood and hiding it poorly. And he had faded over the telling of the story. Ellen thought she could see the wall behind him slowly becoming more visible. But she could barely see anyone else now, either. The others, like obnoxious little Alvin Trutt, had not gone transparent, though, as they had just frozen in place, attentive looks of their faces, and then they had all just become harder to notice.

Again, if she concentrated, she could see their still forms in the places where they sat, but otherwise her mind just slid past them, not choosing to notice them.

They had seen Elgin… Yriakos, working in his rustic little work shop just off the overgrown little courtyard where the story had first begun. The tools he used to make jewelry looked very different from anything Ellen had seen earlier in the workshop where all of Elgin’s employees were bustling away, she assumed, even now.

And while the details of what he did, how he made the piece were obscured and blurred from their view, a pair of matched bracelets, one of which was attached to several finger rings, grew out of his efforts on the top of his bench.

The montage ended, and a very tired Yriakos when to a shelf and pulled down several boxes before he found an acceptable one. The time had come to deliver the gifts.

The walk across the island would have been a chore to watch, but Elgin showed another montage, this one of an old Greek man walking across various very pretty places before coming to a small, tidy palace that wanted to be made from marble, but looked more like whitewashed granite and sandstone.

In the mists of the images, a chair pulled up beside hers, and Ellen saw Elgin holding a bucket of popcorn that smelled of butter, garlic, and… bacon? Sure enough, there were several little reddish brown bits on the well buttered popcorn. He handed Ellen a smaller bucket, and said with a smile, “I like this part. Watch…” as he pointed at the flat-affect, possibly walking dead, guard named Kleodos.

The man slowly ambled out from the overhang of the front door to the large building. Either he had been waiting for Yriakos, or one of the other guards had told him of Yriakos’ approach.

Ellen remembered learning the name for that overhanging bit, but that had been over a decade ago, and was lost to the sands of a time ten years gone now.

Kleodos’ dead eyes looked Yriakos up and down, and took in his middling cleanliness and lack of fashion. Sandals, plain chiton, belt, and a reed hat.

The burly officer reached up and removed the hat, looking into Yriakos’ eyes for a moment. “Our king has been waiting on you, artisan. Though, he did not think you would have been here so soon.”

“I was told when to appear,” he said in a husky, tired voice. “And I have, Kleodos. Does your master have so little faith in me? Or was he just hoping he could have me arrested for missing his deadline? Is he entertained by those he has made prisoners of?”

The man looked out from under his helmet with expressionless eyes. “Rarely. But it is not unheard of.” He slowly turned back to the doors of the little palace. “His special guests arrived last night, so he may feel you have broken faith and are late anyway. We shall see.”

If Kleodos had been carved from stone, he might show more emotion than he did as a living man. He walked at a measured pace, assuming Yriakos followed behind. He never looked back at the artisan to see, just knowing he was following along behind.

They passed murals and mosaics. Many were quite lovely, in spite of Mydius featuring heavily in most of them.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

Nibbling her snack, Ellen watched as the man was led to a large chamber where the little slovenly king reclined on his side, and spoke with an array of amazingly beautiful people with much darker skin and wearing a mix of gold and lapis ornamented robes.

The “trade delegation” from the Kingdom of Kemet had arrived, and they had brought along King Mydius’ young bride.

She was as lovely a young woman as Ellen had ever seen in her life, and she wondered if maybe Elgin was exaggerating this part of the story. Her mouth was wide and set in a beautiful smile, her lips were thick and red without looking like they had been painted with cosmetics. Her cheekbones stood out like exquisite architecture, and her chin and forehead were so well balanced… All in all, Ellen doubted any young woman could ever have been so blessed with beauty. Her hair was covered in an elaborate headpiece, with more gold than any of the others in her party, making them all look more like awkward seagulls than powerful and rich politicians.

She had slender, yet powerfully built guards behind her, each holding shining spears that did not look at all like parade ground finery. They wore leather armor on their shins, and heavy sandals on their feet, all under impeccable white kilts and burnished gold chest plates that were probably plated bronze.

Between the young bride and the chubby little king in his thread of gold edged (wine stained) robes sat a tall, elegant man that Ellen recognised as the current president of the very modern SunRize Corporation. Amra al Soccar… that wasn’t quite right. “Amra Iben Sakr” she whispered. That was it. Though he sat in this ancient Greek palace and wore ancient Egyptian finery, it was him. She had seen his face on halo screens for years now. And he popped up in on-line articles often enough. She doubted anyone on earth currently wouldn’t have known the man from his PR images.

The expression on his face told a tale of boredom and irritation.

Though the faces of both the young bride and Amra changed vastly as they all noticed Yriakos standing by the guard, Kleodos.

There was a sound that intruded on Ellen’s mind. Barely audible, but she could feel it buzzing around across her skin and at the base of her skull as she watched the form of the young princess leap from her seat in joy, and the image of Amra Iben Sakr, who remained seated but looked disgusted, both shout “Grandfather!”

There was a whisper of “...blasphemy!” from somewhere in the room. It sounded to Ellen as though it had been shouted by a person at the very edge of sleep.

Turning her gaze to the left and the right, she felt a deep vibration through her seat that distracted her from the illusory play going on around her. Like ripples on a pond the images around her wavered and warped as her perceptions sharpened to her actual surroundings. Her chair, e\the tall nurse noticed, was suddenly very uncomfortable. And Elgin was no longer sitting next to her, eating his popcorn.

Her own bowl was empty now, as well. She didn’t remember finishing the bowl, but there it sat in her lap, a few scattered unpopped kernels sitting greasy and forlorn in the bottom of the bowl.

Hre soreness had probably grown so slowly over this last… she didn’t know how long she had been sitting in this chair watching this show now, but long enough without shifting her position that her seat was now aching as though she may have slept there all night.

Letting her eyes drift around her, she could see that all of the chairs were now empty, save her own and the Egyptian man, Tamir’s. He still sat in his chair, staring toward the hazy images of Yriakos and Kleodos standing before where Mydius and his guests now lounged, or in the princesses case danced toward Yriakos where he stood.

It was then she noticed Alvin standing behind the chair of Tamir, his broad, calloused hand on the taller man’s arm. Mr Trutt’s mouth was, she could see through the blur of his vibrating whiskers, slightly opened as though he was singing. And had he been singing, it was as clear a single note as Ellen had possibly ever heard, the just barely audible tone matching the feeling of ticklish vibration that had been sweeping back and forth through her form for the last few minutes.

Letting her right hand drop to the arm of her chair, she could now feel the vibrations that had set the fine red hairs on the back of her neck and forearms quivering in sympathetic harmonics. The molars in the back of her jaw just began to vibrate along with the subsonic sounds Trutt was making. It was …pleasant? Pleasant adjacent, maybe.

A gentle hand was laid upon her forearm, and the voice of Elgin’s wife, Ahoo broke through her daze.

“Come along, dear. My husband has a lesson for Mister Abin Ur, and we should probably not be here for any of it.”

Ellen’s eyes widened at the thought of what was about to happen, but beneath the purple and gold hijab, Ahoo just smiled and raised a shushing forefinger to her lips.

Glancing past her to Tamir, she watched as the man’s lovely almond shaped eyes slowly closed. As she stood, feeling awkward as she towered over Ahoo, Ellen watched as Tamir’s head dipped once, twice, and finally fell to his chest.

The man emitted a wheezy snore as Ellen and Ahoo walked past him to the door, closely followed by Trutt, who no longer sang his humming murmuration.