My Idea Box

ORIGINAL IDEA: Caesarion's Last Day

Caesarion was not having a good day. In fact, today was the worst day in his seventeen years of life. Today, the dynasty of Ptolemy, the last dynasty of Egypt, had fallen.

From afar, Caesarion watched Roman soldiers storm his city, the glorious Alexandria, in the name of Caesar. Not the father whom Caesarion barely remembered, but the pretender Octavian who took the name for himself. The black trails of smoke reminded him of the mascara staining his mother's beautiful face and regalia as she had wiped her tears and sent him away.

"Pharaoh?" asked one of his guards.

"Give me a minute," Caesarion said, much to his men's obvious unease. By Horus, he sounded like a little boy. "Fear not, mortals. We shall live through this!"

Keeping the images of Alexandria and of his mother in mind, Caesarion prepared to leave. Or he would have if not for spotting the red blots crawling over the hill next to his position. "Romans!" Caesarion said and drew his sword.

Arrows first flew from the other hill. Caesarion cut one away. A few more flew above his curly hair, and two guards fell. The others' shields formed a protective roof against the rest. Caesarion still winced from the cries of his three advisors. "Stop your wailing!" he shouted, but they did not, even when the arrows stopped.

Shouts and heavy footsteps replaced them. Caesarion recognized them as marching soldiers, as his mother had taught him. "Shield formation!" he ordered and stood to join his men.

The Romans' steps were slow and loud, but they swiftly struck the moment they clashed with Caesarion's guards. Fresh, the Romans in their unstained armor pushed against the tired and dirtied Egyptians. Squeezed behind the latter, Caesarion's heart quickened with swords hitting his guards' oval-shaped shields. Each straight and curved blade shone in the sun, the former overwhelming the latter in Caesarion's squinting eyes.

Caesarion struck. One Roman gladius struck back. It cut his cheek, and the shield slammed in his face.

The next thing Caesarion knew, someone pulled him away from the fighting. He turned to the two guards flanking him. One said, "He is up! My Pharaoh, are you-?"

"I'm fine!" Caesarion said. His hand wiped over the cut on his head. No blood, thankfully. "I have to go back!"

"No! It is too late!" said the other guard who held him back.

"I am the son of gods! You will do as I say!"

Neither guard listened. Caesarion knew their orders came from his mother, not him. He didn't care and shouted with everything he had.

After his voice died, Caesarion looked to the hill out of his reach. He had sparred with his guards many times in his childhood. Now, as a teen, he saw them fall one by one. And one by one, Roman soldiers rushed towards his position.

"Pharaoh, we must leave!" Caesarion heard from the still-living guard by his side.

After wrenching his shoulder free, Caesarion wasn't sure what happened. He knew of a Roman charging, the fool's sword raised. Caesarion had raised his to meet it. Suddenly, light flashed underneath Caesarean as he fell into it.

And fell.

And fell.

And fell.

After that? Caesarion couldn't tell. A million different lights swirled around in his endless pit. Every one of them converged and swallowed the screaming pharaoh in another flash.

Then, for a long time, there was nothing. Until...

"Oh my stars!"

What? Was that... a woman's voice?