The prophecy

Chapter3

Elizabeth

So comfortable... Comfortable? I slowly open my eyes and see that I'm in bed. I sit up and groan in pain. Aching all over my body and parched, I try to get up to find some water. When I hear I gasp behind me, "Miss, you're awake?! I'll summon the physician at once!" I slowly turn to see a girl rush away. "W-Wait where am I-" I say too late as the girl fades into the distance. I look around and see a table with fruits and a pitcher of water. Grabbing the pitcher I gulp down the water.

"Excuse me, Miss?"

I nearly choke on the water, startled by the sudden voice. Lowering the pitcher, I turn to see an elderly man with kind eyes and a neatly trimmed beard standing in the doorway. He's dressed in long robes adorned with intricate embroidery, a silver chain hanging from his neck.

"I'm The royal physician" he says, approaching slowly. "How are you feeling?"

I open my mouth to respond, but only a raspy croak comes out. Clearing my throat, I try again. "I... I don't know. Where am I? What happened?"

The doctor's brow furrows as he reaches my bedside. "You don't remember?" He gently takes my wrist, checking my pulse. "You were found unconscious in the desert three days ago. The royal guards brought you to The palace.”

My eyes widen. Palace?"Just where am I?” I mumble and the physician hears and says, “Your in Sahid, the higher part of Egypt.”. i hesitate and then ask, “w-what year is it?”

The physician's eyebrows raises slightly at my question. He studies me for a moment, his expression a mixture of concern and curiosity. "It is the year 1350 BC, in the 18th year of Amuneseni's Pharaoh reign," he replies slowly, watching my reaction carefully.

My heart races as I process this information. 1350 BC? Pharaoh? This can't be real. I must be dreaming or hallucinating. I pinch myself hard, wincing at the sharp pain. But nothing changes. The ornate room, the robed physician, they're all still here.

"Miss," the physician says gently, "perhaps you should lie back down. You've been through quite an ordeal."

As if on cue, a wave of dizziness washes over me. I lean back against the pillows, my mind reeling. "How...is this possible?” I mumble as i begin to wrack my logical brain for answers.

But I can't rest. My thoughts are a whirlwind of confusion and disbelief. How did I end up in ancient Egypt? The last thing I remember is... What do I remember? I strain to recall my life before waking up here, but my memories are frustratingly hazy.

"Water," I croak, suddenly aware of how parched I am again. The physician helps me sit up slightly and brings a golden cup to my lips. As I sip the cool liquid, I notice intricate hieroglyphs etched into the cup's surface. This is all too detailed, too real to be a dream.

A commotion outside the room catches our attention. I hear hushed, urgent voices and the rush of footsteps

The physician turns towards the door, his expression tightening. "Stay calm," he murmurs to me, before calling out, "Who goes there?"

The door bursts open, and a tall, imposing figure strides in, flanked by guards in gleaming armor. His head is adorned with an ornate crown, his eyes lined with kohl, and his chest bare save for an elaborate collar of gold and precious stones. Even in my confused state, I recognize the regalia of a pharaoh.

"So, this is the mysterious woman from the desert who bears the mark of god and is the same as described in the prophecy," he says, his voice deep and commanding. His eyes, sharp and intelligent, fix on me with an intensity that makes me shrink back into the pillows.

The physician bows low. "My Pharaoh, she has just awakened and is still very weak. Perhaps it would be best to—"

The pharaoh silences him with a raise of his hand

"Silence," the pharaoh commands, his eyes never leaving mine. "I must speak with her alone."

The physician hesitates, clearly torn between his duty to his patient and obedience to his ruler. Finally, with a concerned glance in my direction, he bows deeply and backs out of the room. The guards follow, closing the heavy door behind them.

The pharaoh approaches my bed, his presence filling the room. I try to sit up straighter, wincing at the pain that shoots through my body.

"Do you know who I am?" he asks, his voice softer now, but no less commanding.

I swallow hard. "You're... Pharaoh Akhenaten?" I venture, recalling the physician's words.

A smile plays at the corners of his lips. "Indeed. And do you know who you are?"

The question catches me off guard. I open my mouth to answer, but realize I don't know what to say. My name, my identity, my past - they all feel just out of reach, like wisps of smoke I can't quite grasp.

"I... I don't know," I admit, my voice barely above a whisper.

The pharaoh nods, as if this confirms something for him. He reaches out and gently takes my right hand, turning it palm up. There, on my wrist, is a small mark I hadn't noticed before - a symbol that looks like a stylized eye.

"This is the Mark of Horus," he explains, tracing the symbol with his finger. "It is said that in times of great upheaval, one bearing this mark would come from beyond time itself to guide Egypt to its true destiny."

I stare at the mark, my mind reeling. "But... that's impossible. I'm just a normal person. I can't be some prophesied guide."

The pharaoh's eyes narrow. "And yet, here you are. Found in the desert, bearing the mark, with no memory of your past. The signs are clear."

I shake my head, overwhelmed. "Even if that were true, I don't know anything about ancient Egypt or how to guide anyone. I'm completely lost here."

"Perhaps that is precisely why you were chosen," Akhenaten muses. "A fresh perspective, untainted by our traditions and politics."

He stands, pacing the room. "Egypt stands at a crossroads. I have challenged the old gods, declaring Aten the one true deity. Many resist this change, clinging to the past. If we do not unite under one god, our empire will fracture and fall. The priests of Amun grow stronger every day, undermining my rule. I believe you were sent to help me complete this great work."

I struggle to process his words. The enormity of the situation is overwhelming. "But what if you're wrong? What if I'm not the one from the prophecy?"

Akhenaten's gaze softens slightly. "Then you are still a mystery - one that appeared at the exact moment Egypt needs guidance. Prophecy or not, I believe you have a role to play."

He moves towards the door, then pauses. "Rest now. When you are stronger, we will speak more. There is much you need to learn about our world, and much I hope to learn from you."

As he leaves, I sink back into the pillows, my mind whirling. Ancient Egypt, prophecies, a pharaoh who believes I'm some kind of oracle. But im not... I can't even remember who I am...