Author Games: The River of Night

Quarterfinals: Nour Tahir

Nour Tahir had done everything he had been told in his life, and perhaps that was why he was selected by Shu to search for Ra, why he had survived the Hall of Truths, but perhaps that was also why he would fail in the Field of Reeds.

Nour Tahir had never known paradise before.

All his life, it seemed, the man had only known serving - he was raised in the palace by his father before him, learning how to grovel and how to carry clothing, how to blend into the shadows of the throne room and whisper in the ears of some of the greatest minds in Egypt. He had learned how to train those who followed him and how to find the best - the best fabric, the best food, the best gold for the pharaoh and his family.

He could not remember a time when he was not being given orders - even now. He knew nothing except life as a servant, life as an attendant to the Lord of the Two Lands.

He still knew, however, that there were those who did not dedicate their lives to others as he did - those who worked for themselves, those who worked for nothing, and those who did not work - and although he had not encountered many of them because of his dedication, his diligence, those he did encounter did not soon fade from his memory.

He was surprised, then, when he could not remember one of their names, but he was more surprised to see them, lounging languidly in a bed of rushes, a reed pipe in their hand.

Nour Tahir had met them only once before - but once was enough.

Despite the usual clockwork of the pharaoh's palace, there are times when it rushes, when there is an important event or when a servant mixed up lunch and dinner and the kitchen has to race to fix the error. At these times, the palace is the busiest behind the scenes, in hidden staircases and in the basements and attics of the servants' quarters, but from the outside, no one can tell.

All the bustle, however, only makes it obvious when someone doesn't belong, as all useful hands are running messages and bringing oils to the visitors of importance, and those who are not useful are only in the way.

Nour had not seen the man before, which was his first clue that he was an intruder - the other, and perhaps more obvious one, was his idle whistling where he sat, eyes closed, legs stretched out in front of him, oblivious to the chaos rushing around him. In his hands, reed pipes were cradled, though he was not using them for his music, despite the merry tune he was whistling easily. The man did not belong in the rush of activity around him.

"You!" he'd called, the man's eyes snapping open, and he barely withdrew his legs before a servant girl rushed by with a basket of linens, oblivious to the obstruction. "Either get to work of get out of the way."

The man had smiled, and even his grin was slow and slack, his skin stretching ever so slightly to let his smile shine through. "I mean no harm, but perhaps if you slowed down and stopped the work-"

"The palace would fall apart. It is my duty to keep it running smoothly."

The man smiled again and lifted the reed pipes to his mouth. "My duty is far different than yours, sen. Still, I do not wish to create any chaos. If you could direct me to a spot where I may simply sit, then? I only desire to play my pipes."

Nour had thought cruelly of his desires then - Nour had no time for wishes and wants. He was a man of needs, needs of others, but he showed the man a corner out of the way and left him. He had not thought of him in many years since that day in the hallway. He had, perhaps, not wanted to think of the strange man with the reed pipes.

Still, if there was ever a spot to think, the Field of Reeds was the place.

He lowered himself gently to the ground near the man, his bones aching. He had not realized what a toll the trip thus far had taken on him. He was sure, though, that not all of the blame could be placed on his journey.

He was growing older, and had too many gray hairs to think about.

Yet what had he done with his life, this servant of all, of the pharaoh?

Seeing the strange man again was making him think about his own wants.

"Sen?" he said gently, and the man's eyes opened like the day they'd first met. Nour found he could not sort out what he wanted to say to the stranger.

"Another traveler?" the man asked, his smile as wide as before. "Sit, please, and rest here with me for a moment in these peaceful reeds, sen."

Nour obliged, and did not speak for a moment as he stared at the sky. The reeds on his back were soft, calming, and he sighed too softly to hear.

"Something troubling you?" the stranger asked, playing a few simple notes.

"No, I am just. . . tired, because I have worked so hard for so long, sen."

The stranger smiled again as he started a soft tune on the pipes. "Look hard, deep within yourself and ask yourself, am I truly happy? If you are not, then perhaps it is time to find a different path."

"But am I too late?" Nour asked softly, not truly wanting the answer.

"It is never too late to be happy, my friend, not if you want it." The stranger kept playing his soft tune softly, but his eyes strayed to Nour. "Sit for a moment and reflect, and perhaps then you will understand."

Nour shut his eyes and sighed, but he could not find peace within himself then.

It would have to wait until he completed his duties - then, he could rest.