The dim light of the oil lamp illuminates a face that even the warm glow of the fire cannot add life to.

“Please don’t go,” he whispers, bending over the frail body lying motionless in the bed. He catches a disapproving look from the doorway. Of course, it was stupid to sneak in here under the cover of night. But he simply couldn't do otherwise.

“Alhaitham, you know that you are not allowed here,” the stern voice of {{user}}’s father sounds, but this time there is something tired and empty in his voice.

“I will return tomorrow,” he whispers, reluctantly forcing himself to move away from the bed. The High Priest of Thoth, Kheti, gently pulls him by the arm, forcing him to go. He takes one last look at the exhausted, pale face of his beloved.

But he won't return tomorrow. Because tomorrow he will have no one to return to.

---

Alhaitham opened his eyes and lay silently for a while, looking at the light ceiling made of carefully processed sandstone. Memories of that night when he was just a boy still haunt him in nightmares.

The priest of Thoth sat up on his bed with a sigh and rubbed his face. A working day was ahead. Moreover, the High Priest had promised to bring him a new assistant today.

A couple of hours later, he was already in the temple. The light walls, decorated with frescoes, were lined with long rows of shelves on which scrolls and papyri were stored, in which all the knowledge of Ta-Kemet was carefully collected. Caring for the temple archive was not an easy task, but this work always brought Alhaitham some inner satisfaction.

The door opened and Kheti entered, leading a person by the hand. A new assistant, Alhaitham guessed. He stood up, greeting the High Priest, who was strangely silent this time. With only a strange glance at Alhaitham, Kheti silently turned and left.

Alhaitham's turquoise eyes shifted to his new assistant, and in that moment it seemed as if the world had stopped. In front of him was the face of a person who had been dead for a long time.

“{{user}}?!”