Pharaoh of Fire (Land of Fire Book 1)

by Chadwick Duncan

  “I can see the rain wasn’t kind to this place. Which idiot left the door open?” He proceeded to examine the room.

  “Yeah, someone was definitely in here. I found their hand,” he picked a dismembered hand out of the water, it was discolored and wrinkled.

  “Disgusting,” he tossed it back in.

  “There’s nothing in here of importance. The shelves are empty,” he then heard a faint whisper.

  “What!? Who said that? Who’s there!? There’s already coffins here, I’ll put you in one myself if you try me!” he pulled out the scroll with his right arm for defense, wielding it as if it was a sword.

  The water in the room began draining. It seemed to be flowing into slits on the side of each coffin. The tall torchiere in the center of the four coffins lit with a green flame. Basem stared curiously as he tried to understand what was taking place.

  “What’s this?” he asked as he walked closer to the coffins. All the water in the room was finally drawn into the slits, they then released hot steam.

  The room began to shake. Gravel and sand began falling from the ceiling, a few small pieces struck Basem in his head. Basem fell to his rear as the shaking became more violent. Suddenly, the lids of the four coffins were blown off, breaking as they flew off to the sides. Basem sat in horror, he began crawling towards the exit, keeping an eye on the coffins. The shaking then stopped, and so too did Basem. He stared at the coffins for what seemed like an eternity. He rose to his feet and sprinted to the exit. He raced down the corridor, still clutching the scrolls. He then saw a dark figure at the end of the tunnel.

  “Run! Run! Get the fuck out of here!” he yelled at the figure.

  “Don’t you hear me you damn fool!? Run!” he added.

  As he got closer to the figure, he stopped right in his tracks. It was draped in old rags. Its skin was decrepit and decayed. It was missing many teeth, and the ones it had were yellowed. Its eyes glowed green. Stone levitated towards the entrance to the Pyramid and it abruptly shut. Only the few torches present gave Basem a visual of his surroundings. He quickly spun around and ran back, but the dim torches had shed light on three more entities approaching his way. Basem turned back to the figure blocking the path.

  “Okay, it’s you or me. And I don’t plan on dying today!” he shouted.

  Basem sprinted towards the figure. Building up momentum, he began to lower his head to tackle it. It raised its right arm and Basem suddenly stopped, “Ugh! Ah I can’t…move!” he muttered.

  “Wh-what are you doing…to me! Let go!”

  It made a hand gesture and Basem reached into his robes and pulled the scroll out. He reluctantly began walking towards the figure. Its arm was out as Basem approached. Basem contorted his body as much as possible but his legs kept moving one after the other, steadily bringing him within arms distance of the creature. Its rancid breath nearly killed him, he began coughing and choking at the stench. He handed the creature the scroll. Basem was frozen as it opened the scroll and read from it. It began speaking in an unfamiliar tongue to the three other creatures, still sluggishly approaching them from behind. The three other creatures walked passed Basem, and they formed a circle as they read the scroll. The one holding the scroll faced Basem and began.

  “Who…are…you?” the creature asked, nearly choking on each vowel.

  “B-Basem! I don’t know what you want! I don’t have anything! I’m sorry I came here, if you please let me leave I won’t tell anyone about this please I promise! I am a man of my word I assure you!”

  Basem began crying hysterically as he continued, “I didn’t even want to come here! I tried to tell myself to stop but my dumb self wouldn’t listen! I promise you, you will never hear or see me again!”

  The creature stared into Basem’s eyes and replied, “We…summoned you…here. You had something…that belonged…to us.”

  Basem stood there perplexed, then began, “Your scroll?”

  “Yes.”

  “Wh-why that one? The Gibraltari Empire probably holds countless numbers of your scrolls! Why is this one so important?”

  “This one…is most important…for what we need right now.”

  Another creature spoke, “H-Heru, how long have we been away?”

  Heru asked, “What is the date?”

  Basem peered around before responding, “This should be the 1007 A.S. if I am correct.”

  Heru replied, “1007 A.S.?”

  “Yes, over a thousand years ago, there was an incident that took place that scorched the lands and turned the entire central region of Namib into a desert, the Moto desert. Since that day, many knowledge was lost and man decided to keep track of time as ‘After Scorch, A.S.’ as a remembrance of that godforsaken day.”

  Another creature chimed in, “I see. We have been gone a lot longer than expected, brothers.”

  Heru responded, “Yes, Asim. It has been quite some time. A thousand years to be precise.”

  Heru looked towards the other two creatures and continued, “Radames and Saa, you two are hearing this, correct?”

  “Yes brother,” they uttered in unison.

  “We are much too weak to brave the sun, I attempted to leave and nearly lost my hand as I reached into the light,” Heru stated as he rubbed his hand.

  Saa began, “How will we perform our ritual if we are unable to leave?”

  Basem interrupted, “Wait-wait, you four are over a thousand years old? You’re from before the Great Scorch!?”

  Radames spoke, “The Great Scorch? That is what you all call it. That is such a gross understatement. That name does it no justice.”

  Basem replied, still frozen by their magic, “Huh? What do you mean?”

  Heru looked back at Basem, “That title does not evoke the immense fear one should feel about the incident.”

  He took a breath and continued, “Fire rained from the heavens, land was not ‘scorched’ away, it was melted. Dirt and grass became lava, whole villages and families were swept away by its devastation. The sky was covered with black clouds, lighting and thunder roared but they were not their usual bluish white, they were red. Red as blood. Fire raged higher than the Pyramids. Entire clans and tribes were lost and forgotten. Whole cities and towers were nothing more than glorified kindling, reduced to ashes in mere moments.”

  “How did you all survive?” Basem asked.

  “There is a powerful incantation protecting this Pyramid.”

  “So, why are the four of you here?” Basem followed up with.

  Asim interjected, “That is enough questions! Can I kill him now Heru?”

  Heru placed his arm in front of Asim, “No, he will be useful to us.”

  Asim yelled, “How!? Every second I do not taste blood I grow irritable!”

  Heru looked Asim in the eyes and replied, “Because we cannot go into the sun, we need a vessel for the time being.”

  Basem, startled, replied, “A vessel? What does that mean!?”

  Radames chuckled, “Heru, you are always two steps ahead.”

  Heru began, “I will take this vessel and fetch us some sacrifices. We will regain our flesh and proceed with our mission.”

  “Sacrifices!? Look, I don’t know what the fuck is going on here but please just let me go! Like I said, I won’t tell anyone! I’ll fetch sacrifices for you myself if you please let me live!”

  Asim snarled, his decaying teeth began eroding away as he clenched them, his eyes glowed even brighter, “What grounds do we have to take your word!? You must think we are fools!”

  “No-no I promise! You can trust me!”

  Heru solemnly replied, “Trust is what got us here. We shall not make that mistake twice.”

  Heru’s figure began shifting to smoke. The smoke entered Basem’s mouth. He tried to cough and shut his mouth, but Heru entered through his nose instead. Heru completely entered his body, leaving Basem perfectly still. He stopped breathing and stared out into space. Suddenly, Basem’s eyes flashed green and then returned to norma
l. He inhaled and resumed breathing per usual. Basem cracked his neck and stretched his arms as he walked towards Radames.

  Radames replied, “Heru?”

  “Yes, I am here. This body feels fragile. We must regain ours.”

  Asim barked, “Well then hurry!”

  Saa joined in, “Yes, please hurry brother. I grow faint.”

  “Understood, I will be back shortly. I only need to access his memories to know where the closest settlement is.”

  Heru waved his right hand and the Pyramid reopened. He exited the corridor then resealed the tomb, “now then, where should I go?” Heru closed his eyes and began to ponder.

  The image of a city began forming in Heru’s mind. It was a small town, constructed of clay and sand buildings. It was a relatively small city, with no large buildings. The streets had a sparse concentration of civilians but still a good enough amount nonetheless.

  “Pakul. That is the name of the city. It is located in the Gibraltari Empire, in the Japreet clan’s domain. That is where I must go.”

  Radames chuckled, “That is a name I wish was lost with the fire.”

  Heru looked at him and responded, “Indeed. One of our Empires survived, but not the one we wanted.” Heru clenched his fists. He settled down and exited the Pyramid.

  As soon as Heru took a step, his mind was bombarded by images. It was that of a woman, she was dark of skin with a low trim of hair upon her head. She had a radiant smile, almost as bright as the sun. Her eyes seemed as deep as the Garam Sea. Her dark skin sparkled, and the scent of coriander and cinnamon overtook his nostrils. The image of the women was quickly replaced with that of fire and screaming. Fire raged against an unambiguous background, with the cries of a woman and laughter of a man filled Heru’s mind. Finally, Heru was able to break free from the trance.

  “Ahhh! Damn! I need to keep control. Unwanted memories are flowing out. Must be his way of fighting my control. Walking is out of the question. According to his memories, by camel it should still takes many days to arrive. So walking would be utterly ridiculous,” Heru deduced.

  Heru kneeled down and placed his right palm on the desert sand. The sand directly underneath his hand began to vibrate, suddenly, Basem’s wagon erupted from the sand, along with his two camels. The camels had died ,however, drowned by sand and water. The sand kept vibrating at the wagon and camel fully surfaced. Heru walked over to his ride but was displeased.

  “This is no good,” he kicked the head of one of the camels. They remained unresponsive.

  Heru walked in front of the first camel, stooped down and then breathed on it. Black smoke began leaving his mouth and entering the nostrils of the camel. He repeated the same act for the second camel. Suddenly, their eyes opened. With shimmering green eyes, they rose to their feet and awaited Heru’s commands.

  “I should not be splitting my soul this thinly between three creatures, especially since these camels are dead. More of a strain to keep them alive, so I must move quickly before I put myself right back into a sarcophagus.”

  He boarded the wagon, held the rope and directed them to advance and so they did. They sprinted through the sand, gliding over each dune effortlessly. Being undead, the camels sprinted at full speed with not the slightest sign of being tired, for it was Heru’s might that propelled them all forward.

  Chapter 13: First Blood

  The citizens of Gibralta resumed their day-to-day lives. The rains finally finished, over saturating the land. Many people carried buckets of water back to their homes. Upon the tall buildings of capital, people began hanging various linen and clothing out to dry. Ropes stretched from tower to tower so the sun would shine on various tapestries and garments. Within the Selah Palace, Mansa Nairobi Mali sat upon his throne during a congregation with his citizens.

  “Your Excellency, the rains have completely flooded my home, soaking all of our food. I have a few shillings to give but besides that I have nothing,” the words of the peasant beckoned throughout the throne room.

  Nairobi examined the peasant as he kneeled before him, “Hand over all the shillings you have to the Hashish, a Royal Guard will escort you to our pantry and you can grab four loaves of bread and two yams.”

  The man quickly rose from his feet, with a smile as bright as the sun itself he began, “Thank you! Thank you! May the sun god bless you!”

  “Yes, yes, now go on,” Mansa Nairobi stated as he waved him from his presence.

  He continued, “May the next man step forth.”

  An elderly lady hobbled before Nairobi, he began “State your business.”

  “Your Excellency, the rains ruined my small farm, eroding away the soil and destroying my harvest. I will not be able to sell anything on the market for weeks, not until I can grow more crops. I have no money and no crops. All I ask of you is a few shillings so I can repair my farm and buy food in the meantime.”

  “The Hashish will loan you some. Speak to one and he will get you on your way.”

  “Oh God bless you, you are a divine Mansa!” her smile warmed those around her, but Nairobi’s cold demeanor was untouched.

  “Yes, now please go,” Nairobi replied monotonously.

  As another man stepped forth, Mansa Nairobi rose from his throne, “Okay that is enough for today! I will be presiding over very important matters for the remainder of the day! Please see yourselves out!”

  Nairobi hastily exited the throne room. The congregation erupted with discontent and screamed to have their prayers heard but Nairobi wanted no part of it. The Hashish and Royal Guards attempted to quell their anger as he made his way out the throne room. He retreated through the back doors and headed for his Father’s library.

  As Nairobi shut the doors behind him and leaned on them he began, “Ahhh! This Mansa thing is so--is so, boring at times. I have been listening to complaints all morning! I honestly do not care about any of their complaints, but I do not want them to all be mad at me. ”

  Nairobi heard a voice, “Well, it’s not supposed to be all glamor. You are ruling over an entire nation you know, no one said that’ll be easy.”

  Startled, Nairobi proclaimed, “Who goes there!? Show yourself!” Suddenly, a monkey scurried down the bookshelves.

  “A talking monkey? What in god’s name was in that tea I drank this morning?”

  “No! It’s not a talking monkey you idiot!” Ojo screamed as he hopped down from the book cases to Nairobi’s right.

  “Who are you!? And how did you get in my Palace?” a perplexed Nairobi retorted.

  Ojo smirked as Mojo ran unto his left shoulder, “Well, it wasn’t easy. Even with a large gathering of people currently in the Palace, I was the only one who was able to sneak in. The Hashish are as skilled as they say.”

  “The only one? So there are more of you?” Nairobi replied as he squinted his eyes.

  “Yes. And we have some questions for you so if you can be so kind and answer them diligently, no one will have to get hurt,” Ojo proceeded to leap unto the desk in the center of the room and crouched.

  “Do you all carry talking monkeys?”

  “Wha-no! Only I have a monkey and it doesn’t talk!” Ojo began snarling.

  “Oh okay then. You still have not answered my question, who are you?”

  Ojo chuckled, “My name is Ojo, and my furry little friend on my shoulder is Mojo. We are a part of The Creed. An order of Assassins from Istapor.”

  Nairobi smiled, “A creed of assassins? And you came to kill me? That is laughable, do you not know who I am?”

  Ojo shrugged, “We know exactly who you are, Mansa Nairobi Mali. That is exactly why we are here. And we didn’t come just to kill you. As I said, there are some questions I wish to ask you first.”

  “Okay then Monkey Man. Let me hear your questions,” Nairobi said as he folded his arms.

  Annoyed, Ojo began, “On your expedition to the Pyramid of Nebu, there was a woman in your company. You can’t miss her, her beauty is unparalleled.”

  Nairob
i raised his eyebrows in confusion, “Woman? There were no women on my expedition. Now what are you going on about!”

  Ojo became annoyed, “There was a woman. Do you think me a fool? You are telling me that no one stood out to you?”

  Nairobi pondered to himself, “Well, there was a strange man. He attacked my company and fled. But that could not have been the woman you are looking for. This culprit was fast, skilled with a blade, and deadly precise.”

  Ojo smiled as he leaped off the table, “That sounds like her. You know where she went?”

  “Wait, what!? That warrior was too elite to be a woman. That is impossible.”

  Ojo shrugged, “Nah that’s definitely our girl. That’s Ida.”

  “Ida, so that’s her name? Well, I know not of where she went! But if she is associated with you then I have no choice but to strike you down here myself. You will pay for her sins…with blood,” Nairobi gritted as he pulled for his scimitar within his robe.

  “Ahhh, me and Mojo been itching to spill some blood lately,” Ojo smiled and Mojo screeched.

  Nairobi charged across the room wielding his blade. Ojo handed Mojo a small knife, which he then held with his tail. Ojo then drew two other knives from his robes, holding one in each hand. Nairobi swung his blade at Ojo, he blocked the attack with the knives, then Mojo countered with the knife on his tail, Nairobi reacted but not fast enough. The knife caught him on his right eyebrow.

  “You better be careful, or Mojo will take your right eye too. What good is a blind Mansa!” he began to laugh.