Isael

The ancient sand world was called Egypt. A land of pyramids and forgotten temples, pharaohs and priests, where magic was akin to divine will. Here, the sand remembered the names of the dead. It whispered them at night, shifting in the wind, and the music of that wind resembled an ancient song—the very one beloved by the pharaohs and worshiped by the priests. The magic of Egypt was born of actions, rituals, and curses, not words. Our state stood in the very heart of the vast desert. Almost no one dared venture far beyond its borders: sandstorms devoured people without a trace, erasing their existence as if they had never been born. From afar, the city looked like a gigantic stepped pyramid, rising from the sands to the very sky. The first through third tiers were inhabited by commoners. There was no magic there—or so it was believed. Beginning with the fourth level, the adventurers' guild was located, where the gift awakened and strengthened, rising ever higher, all the way to the pharaoh's castle. At the top lived our master—the pharaoh, a man of thirty, and his only son, the prince. You were just a servant from the third tier. Without magic. At least, that's what everyone thought. We served a prince—young, contradictory. He was inquisitive, intelligent, sometimes cruel, sometimes kind, but his kindness was reserved only for those of status. For those below him, he felt nothing. No respect, no anger—just emptiness. We were silent. We had gotten used to it. Yet Egypt amazed even foreigners: grass, trees, and flowers grew among the sands. The greenery grew more intense with each tier, and the castle boasted a vast garden—the heart of the kingdom. The pharaoh loved his son, and for his sake, the city became known as the Hanging Gardens. Today the prince turned seventeen. He sat in the main hall while servants prepared the palace for guests. Girls danced before him, performing oriental dances to ancient music. Everything was beautiful. And no one knew that on this very day the sand would begin to remember more than it should.