I Shall Rewrite the Stars

Chapter 30

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Five days pass before I attempt to walk. We are finishing our seventeenth loop around the camp, when Cearion smiles at me.

“I knew you’d bounce back fast,” he beams.

“It’s not as if I were terribly injured,” I remind, to which he scoffs.

“You were beat up, sick, and fell unconscious for days. I think you underestimate how serious your condition was.”

“Perhaps…though I still believe we have been overly cautious during my recovery. I am far more concerned about Arun.”

“He was in rough shape when they left.” Cearion straightens, allowing my arm to slip from his shoulders to his waist. “If he hadn’t taken that blow, it would have killed you. I owe him a life-debt.”

“I owe him,” I correct. “It’s too high a debt for a pharaoh to acknowledge.”

“You’re my heir now, Leanie. Anyone who saves you, saves the future of Kemet. If I don’t handle this situation properly, it’ll be a slight against Arun and a blight upon my reign.”

“All that I do will reflect back on you, then.” My shoulders sag, weighted with an unseen force. “It feels so much heavier a burden than it had when Mother and Father were alive.”

“You can never disappoint me,” Cearion says, pausing till I look up at him and his smile. “Never doubt that. Alright?”

My lips twitch up. “You sound like Father.”

Cearion laughs, his mouth opening to speak when his eyes stray to the side. A ways to our right, Juba has just knelt to stoke a small fire. Studying him, Cearion’s expression sobers. “He never left your side, you know. Nothing I said could change his mind.”

“Juba is stubborn,” I say. “Stubborn and fiercely loyal.”

“He was as worried about you as I was.”

Words flee my tongue, for Cearion has never been one to admit another was his match—not in any regard! “Does he bother you?”

Cearion shakes his head, guiding me forward. “He’s a strong fighter. Fair and able to discern when to step in and when to mind his business. He’s also wise in the medical arts. There’s plenty more to know, but based off what I’ve seen so far, I think that he’ll make a fine Son of Kemet.”

I skip a step, fumbling into Cearion’s side. He catches me, laughing at my flailing arms.

“Are you alright?” Juba calls.

“We’re fine!” Cearion laughs. “She just hit a rock.”

“I did no such thing,” I gasp, my cheeks burning.

Cearion grins. “He doesn’t need to know that.”

Helping me to right my footing, Cearion heaves a sigh. Peeking up at him, I will myself to be brave.

“You know that he has feelings for me?” I ask.

“How could I not?”

“I…”

When I peek up again, Cearion catches my gaze. “You return his feelings, don’t you?”

Swallowing hard I nod, terrified of what might be said next.

“Do you love him?”

“I do.”

“I won’t pressure you for details, Selene, but I’d like to understand this better. You’ve known him for so short a time, and regardless of what I’ve seen, he’s still a dog of Roma. How can you be sure that you’re in love with him?”

Slowing our pace, I tell Cearion what I lived through in my visions. I tell him how Kemet fell, how our family was lost, how I found a will to live through my love for juba, and how he was taken from me before I died.

At some points, my brother’s arms shake, his face swept with silent rage. At others, he clenches his eyes tight, his pain evident in the way his jaw tightens.

“I see,” Cearion says when I am done. “This is what you’ve carried since the blessings.”

We stop, our bodies illuminated with an orange glow—set aflame by the setting sun. When Cearion turns to me, his hands set heavily upon my shoulders, and he holds my gaze with a whirl of emotions too great to be named.

“That I breathe this very second, means that you’ve changed the cursed future you saw,” he says. “Everything that happens next, we owe to you—to your bravery and efforts on our behalf. Countless life-debts are owed to you, Selene, and the future you offer the world indebts all who breathe.”

“You exaggerate,” I try, but he shakes his head.

“I don’t. You are so young to bear this burden, yet you’ve accepted it without hesitation. I don’t know how the rest of the world will react, if and when they learn all that I just did, but I know how I must.”

“Ceari?”

He lifts his chin, eyes raised toward the heavens. “I will not squander the chance you’ve given us—all of us. Roma must intend to lay siege to the world, just as they did in your visions. We can’t allow them to succeed this time.”

“You intend to ask the maharaja for help?” I ask.

Cearion shakes his head, his gaze returned to me. “Go to Pataliputra on my behalf. Tell the maharaja everything that happened here, and what I’ll be attempting to do.”

“Which is?”

“We’ve ancient allies all around the world. Some are neutral, and some will heed our call at the drop of a pin. If you’ve already secured Indrira’s help, then I’ll look to the north to bolster our numbers.”

“The north?” I gasp. “We’ve had no contact with them, for centuries!”

“Because Roma got in our way,” Cearion explains. “If I can convince the people of Noregr to join our cause, then we can strike Roma on two fronts. Gustavian is strong, but he can’t be strong enough to withstand such a might for long.”

I shake my head. “You underestimate him. Roma has great weapons which launch flaming boulders that cannot be dowsed. They have scorpion shaped devises on wheels, which shoot arrows half your length and thick as your thigh! They have giant mirrors to channel the sun’s rays upon their enemies in hellish beams!”

“Their empire has grown by consuming all neighboring kingdoms through use of unparallel acts of violence.” Cearion says. “I know this. But if they intend to fight the world, then we’ve no choice but to rise up and meet them, lest everyone fall as Kemet has.”

Much as I wish it were an option, I know there is no hope of running away or hiding, for Roma will not stop unless forced to. Just as the maharaja said, war will soon be upon the world.

A war we must win at any and all costs.

“Are you sure you cannot wait a while?” I ask. “We’ve only just reunited, Ceari. I’m worried about you.”

He grins, turning us toward Juba. “I feel changed somehow. Cyrus’ betrayal killed something in me, some innocence I hadn’t known was there. And speaking honestly, I think it’s for the best. We’ve little time to raise an army capable of taking on and defeating Roma, and less time to prepare ourselves for that fight. I need to grow more—as a person, a warrior, and a leader. You do too, Leanie.”

“I have already lived through terrible things-”

“And you will live through so many more. But unlike before, this time you will survive. You will grow stronger than fate meant for you to be, and at the end of the war to come, you will walk away alive, Selene. This time, you will not die.”

It is difficult to nod, to swear that I will do as asked. It is even harder just hours later, to hug Cearion close, demand his oath that he will survive no matter what, and send him off into the shadowed valley between the darkening dunes. 

Holding my hand, Juba and I watch until the speck of my brother’s figure vanishes. Eyes clenched tight, I whisper a plea to the spirits of the moon, sea, and all things primal. “Please, watch over and protect my brother. He is childish at heart, but brave and good. The world needs him…perhaps even more so than I.”

“Cearion is strong,” Juba says, pulling me into a hug. “He’ll be alright.”

“How do you lose someone so precious to you, watch them overcome and survive in the second round, then just…just allow them to wander off into the unknown?” I bury my fingers in the back of Juba’s tunic. “I know why he must go—I do! But I…”

Juba sets his chin atop my head, rocking us slowly from side to side. “To take on Roma will be the greatest gamble the world shall ever know. Even if every great nation joins forces, there’s still no guarantee that we will win.”

“Why must it be this way? The world has known a thousand years of peace. Could it not have continued? Is power truly so addictive, that any ruler might set the world aflame in pursuit of domination?”

“For some it is, Gustavian more so than most.”

Heartsick, I cling to Juba a while longer, before we decide to make way for Aakesh’s temple. With hands clasped we walk slowly, our path made treacherous by the moonless night.

I shiver against the cold, awed and frustrated by the hypocrisy of the desert. For such a scorching place during the day, it is far too cold at night.

“Here,” Juba says, long into our walk. Setting his scarf around my neck, he wraps it loosely, then bends to sweep me into his arms.

“What are you doing?” I gasp, tossing my arms around him. “I can walk just fine!”

He smiles, adjusting the arm beneath my knees. “Let me warm you—unless you truly despise being carried, that is. I won’t force you to stay so close.”

I set my burning cheek against Juba’s shoulder. “Why would I despise it? I cherish being close to you, Juba, but you must be so exhausted. You should take better care of yourself.”

“I feel best when you are near. As such, to carry you a while will do naught but good for me.”

Chuckling softly, I close my eyes. “How kind. Perhaps actions like this are why Cearion caught onto us. He even asked me about you.”

“Oh?” Juba asks.

I hum. “He said you will make a fine Son of Kemet.”

“Me, a Son of Kemet? It seems too great an honor. Though…tell me truthfully, would you like me to wed into your family?”

“I…I want us to do what makes us happiest,” I say. “You’ve been burdened by political chains all your life, Juba. Can you be happy as a member of Kemet’s royal family?”

“I don’t know, for I’ve no memories of being a part of Numidel’s royal family,” he admits. “Forgive me for thinking as such, but my truest happiness might be found as far from a throne as I can get.”

“I figured as such.”

He glances down at me. “But you are a royal daughter; an heir who may be called upon to take the throne, should the worst come to pass. I don’t know what I’ll feel if that happens, but I know in this moment, that I don’t want for us to be separated.”

“And I know that I will never wish to be a cause of your unhappiness,” I say. “In the future, we were meant to find our truest peace, whilst in exile. We lived simple lives in simple places, and we were so happy, Juba. I wish to experience that happiness again.”

“You would give up the throne, the palace, the titles-”

“I would give it all away for a simple, blissful life spent at your side.”

Stopping, Juba’s cheeks tinge red enough to see in the dull glow of starlight. Eyes searching mine, he whispers my name as he leans in closer. My heart races, my breath caught in my throat. I feel the whisper of his lips on mine, and my eyes fall shut as-

“Help!”

Juba and I fly apart, our wide eyes turned toward a small figure rushing between the distant dunes. Her long hair frames her like a veil, whipping with each desperate step lost beneath the trampling of pursuing hooves.

“Help me!” the faint, feminine voice cries, more recognizable this time.

My heart lurches, my blood run cold as I throw myself from Juba’s arms.

“Ptolemy!” I cry, racing for her.

Juba passes me with ease, reaching the fallen ball of my sister long before me. And when I join them, I sink to my knees at her side, shielding her from all the world.

“What are you doing here?” I ask, as she buries her face against my chest.

“Helios said that one of us should come look for you—make sure that you’re okay. The maharaja wouldn’t let him go, so I volunteered,” Ptolemy weeps. “I trusted my escorts, but then they began whispering a plot to sell me to Roma and I panicked, Selene! I panicked and-”

“They’re here,” Juba breathes, stepping before us with sickle raised.

The pounding of hoofbeats comes to a stop a few feet away, and Juba’s arm falls to his side. Glancing back, meets my eyes with a pale face, horror written in his gaze.

“Summon the spirts’ aid,” he whispers.

I reach out for them, feeling nothing in response. The memory of the moon spirit, sitting alone and weeping, comes to mind. The solemn warning of the spirit of the sea, follows.

There are dire consequences for abusing powers beyond mortal confines. I cannot spare you from them.

“They won’t heed me,” I whisper. “Juba, I…”

“The stars must be smiling on us,” a man says, eliciting laughs from at least seven companions. “To think that you actually survived the fall of Kemet! What a special dog you are, Juba.”

“Lieutenant General Agrippa,” Juba says, dropping to one knee with head bowed. “Has His Majesty invaded Indrira? Am I to fall in line behind your banner, or should I continue my march toward Vaticana?”

“Did the chaos of Kemet rattle that worthless brain of yours?” Agrippa, scoffs. Set atop a high, black steed, the man’s purple cape rustles at his back. Black eyes sweeping from Juba to me, his gaze is as soleless and empty as it was in my last vision of him. “You’ve turned south, Mutt. Vaticana is to the west.”

“My apologies.”

“They’re Romasian?” Ptolemy whispers, curling in on herself. “Selene, what do we do?”

“Stay quiet,” I reply, dread welling within me.

“And who do we have here?” Agrippa asks, sliding from his saddle. Juba flinches as he passes, and the man glares down at my sister and I. “You wouldn’t be Daughters of Kemet, would you?”

“It seems you already know the answer, Sir,” I say, calling on all I had seen of this man—desperate to remember how best to keep him from losing his temper. “May I assume that you serve under Emperor Gustavian?”

He huffs a laugh, full lips quirked in a half-smirk. “How composed you are, for a child in such dire circumstances. I’ll admit I’m impressed! Shall I address you as Selene?”

“If it pleases you.”

His smirk blooms into a wicked grin. “You’ve my deepest gratitude. Now tell me, did you follow this mutt of your own volition? I’ll have you know that our Majesty has awaited the arrival of yourself and your siblings, with the deepest impatience.”

“I hope only to understand his actions,” I say. “If the emperor will speak with me, then I will be grateful beyond words.”

“You’ll not fuss about joining us?” Agrippa’s smile drips poison. “We’ll be most happy to escort you and your sister, then. If you’ll oblige we humble soldiers, that is.”

Every fear I have had since viewing the future, slams into my heart. Juba looks back at me, his desperate eyes pleading. Ptolemy trembles in my arms, and Agrippa’s hand shifts toward the sword at his hip.

I have but one option left—one choice that will assure our survival…if only for a while longer.

“Thank you for your kindness, Sir,” I say, forcing my head to bow. “From here on, I entrust my sister and I to your care.”

“Marvelous,” Agrippa beams. “Then let us be off straight away! For all of Roma awaits, and your arrival shall be delayed for not a moment longer.”

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Season 1: End

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