Distantly Falling Stars (GRAND WINNER * ONC 2019)

The humid air of the Third Writing Hall hung heavy, thick with the scent of papyrus and ink. Seti, Assistant Scribe, sat cross-legged, meticulously copying dispatches from a red, baked clay tablet onto a long roll of papyrus. His world was one of meticulous record-keeping, of facts and figures, far removed from the grand pronouncements of gods and pharaohs.

Then, a shadow fell across his work. A man, dark-skinned and muscular, entered the hall, his presence radiating an undeniable authority. He wore no wig, his shaven head gleaming, and thick gold and stone bracelets adorned his wrists. Seti’s heart gave a sudden, unwelcome lurch.

This was the man he had been expecting, dreading. The one sent to ensure he forgot everything he had seen and heard at the Temple of the Sky Goddess, three days prior. Seti’s hand paused, brush suspended above the ink, as the man’s clipped, aggressive voice cut through the quiet hum of the hall, addressing his overseer, Ipy.

"This is Seti, son of Ramu..."

Before Ipy could complete the introduction, the stranger raised his fly whip, cutting him off with a sharp, decisive gesture.

"Outside."

The single word, cold and absolute, hung in the air. Seti knew, with a chilling certainty, that his orderly world was about to be irrevocably disrupted.