The blood hadn't yet soaked into the clay floor when I placed a hand on Karem's shoulder. He stood tense, eyes hard, but I could feel there was more stirring inside him than he let show.
"Karem," I said quietly. "It's time you knew why I'm really here."
He looked at me, breath still heavy from what he had just done. "You say Sobek is after you… but that's not all, is it?"
I nodded. "No. The truth is, I wasn't sent here by any pharaoh or priest. I'm here because the gods sent me back. Back into the past. To stop the fall of Egypt that is yet to come."
Karem froze. For a moment he just stared, as if weighing every word. "Back into the past…?" he repeated.
"Yes," I went on. "In my time Egypt was dying. The gods gave me gifts — life that cannot be destroyed, wisdom that didn't belong to my age. They sent me here, to the beginning, to change what was meant to happen. To help Egypt grow strong enough to survive every disaster that lies ahead."
Karem opened his mouth, but I stopped him with a raised hand. "And so far… I'm failing. Sobek has already risen. That means events are unfolding just as they did in my time. I haven't stopped it. Not yet."
Karem drew in a breath, jaw tight, his voice low but firm: "Then what do you want from me?"
I gripped his shoulder firmly. "I want you to be my eyes and ears. My sword. I have to focus on giving rise to the other gods, the ones who will stand against Sobek. But I can't be on every battlefield, I can't be at every decision. That's why it will be you. You'll be my shadow, my continuation. If I fall, you'll carry on."
His eyes widened. "That's a lot, Amenemhet. I'm a soldier, not a prophet."
I gave a bitter smile. "I was a slave, a priest, a eunuch. And now I'm something that shouldn't even exist. Fate doesn't choose us for what we were. It chooses us for what we can do. And you… you're the one I trust."
Karem clenched his jaw, glanced at the body lying at our feet, then back at me. "All right. But promise me one thing — don't ever keep me aside. If I'm to be your shadow, I need to know everything."
I nodded. "You will. But for now… have patience. I'm still searching for the way it all has to begin. And until I find it, it will be on the two of us to keep Egypt safe
Karem stood silent for a moment. Then he turned to me, his eyes hard but full of questions. "Amenemhet… until now you've told me why you're here. But who were you really? Before. Before the gods sent you back."
I took a breath. I knew this moment would come. "I was a slave," I began slowly. "I grew up without a name. I served in the palace in Alexandria. I was a eunuch – they tore away the chance to be a man before I was even grown."
Karem froze. "A eunuch?"
I nodded. "That's how it was. Service to the pharaoh knew no mercy. I was meant to be nothing more than a shadow who served and stayed silent."
"And yet you ended up… here?" Karem snorted, though it was more disbelief than mockery. "Not a bad leap, from slave to advisor of a pharaoh."
I didn't answer right away. I stared at the ground until I found the strength to go on. "It wasn't just chance. One man saw more in me. He taught me to read, to write, to understand. Because of that, I found my way among scholars. And there… there I met her."
Karem leaned closer. "Her? The one you hinted about before?"
I nodded. "She was the daughter of the pharaoh. Beautiful, bold, stubborn. I grew up at her side – first as her guard, then as her teacher. And in the end…" I paused, my voice breaking. "In the end I loved her. But I could never say it. I was a eunuch, a slave. And she was the heir to the throne."
Karem looked at me for a long time. Then a wry smile crept across his lips. "So, the pharaoh's daughter? You aimed pretty high, my friend."
I raised my eyes. "It wasn't a choice. The heart finds its own way."
"But the heart of a eunuch…" Karem let out a short laugh and shook his head. "And still. You talk about her like no god would believe you didn't feel everything a man can feel. Maybe you were without… that," he gestured with his hand, "but your feelings were as strong as any of ours. Maybe stronger."
I said nothing. Karem eventually fell silent too, though his smile didn't fade. "You know what I think?" he asked at last.
"What?"
"That the gods gave back what they once took from you. And if they ever give you your heart back as well… then you'll see your place isn't just in the shadows of the past."
I looked at him, at the friend who now knew more truth about me than anyone else ever had. And for the first time, I felt I could truly entrust someone with all of it
Karem hoisted the assassin's body over his shoulder and muttered with a frown, "Gods, I'm too old for this."
"What did you just say?" I called out, stung by his words.
He glanced back at me and shrugged. "That I'm old."
"Old?" I shouted after him, even with blood on my tunic and every muscle burning. "I'm in my prime! You're the one huffing like a donkey under the first load you carry!"
He froze for a moment, then burst out laughing so loud the corpse on his shoulder shifted. "In your prime, you say?"
"Exactly!" I shot back. "And if you don't believe me, step onto the training grounds with me and we'll see who lasts longer!"
Karem shook his head, still laughing. "Better I hide this body before your so-called prime kills you quicker than the enemy."
He walked off with his burden, and for the first time after the bloody night, I laughed too
When the doors of my chambers closed, I finally allowed myself to exhale deeply. I leaned against the pillar, and Karem's remark still echoed in my head.
"An old man," I muttered. "What old man?"
I walked over to the low bench and sat down, rubbing my face with my palms. "I'm not that much older than him," I said quietly to myself. "And what does a boy who's barely lived two decades know about old age?"
For a moment, I paused and looked into the polished bronze that served as a mirror. My face was the same as it had been years ago. No wrinkles, no gray hair.
"Men my age are still attractive," I added with a faint, slightly bitter smile. "And I don't even age at all…"
I sat in silence for a while, listening to the distant noise of the palace. Everything was changing, years passing, and yet I remained the same.
"When all of this is over," I whispered, "I'll beg the gods to return my mortality. And with it, the ability to love."
I closed my eyes. I imagined Neseret smiling at me. Her voice, her touch — all of it lingered inside me. She deserves more than an empty man who cannot feel.
"If I manage it within a few years," I continued in my thoughts, "maybe I'll still have time to give Neseret what she longs for. My love. And maybe even the family I never had."
The image of her son appeared before me. His small hands reaching for me, his laughter when he managed something on his own. "Nakht," I said his name aloud. "Maybe he won't make the same mistakes I did. Maybe his life won't be marked by what the gods took from me."
For a moment I fell silent and drew a deep breath. Yet I immediately realized that it probably wasn't possible. The immortality with which they bound me was no gift but a chain. And the gods rarely take back what they once gave.
"And still…" I murmured, "still I'll keep hoping. At least a little."
I raised my head, my eyes dry but my chest heavy. Mortality. Love. What others enjoyed naturally, I had to beg for as a favor.