Urgent Message

New Kingdom, Lower Egypt

General Horus the night before

Horus sat in his dimly lit tent, deep within a military encampment in Lower Egypt, not far from the great city of Memphis. It was the height of the New Kingdom, an era of expansion and power, where Pharaohs ruled with divine authority.

The flickering glow of the oil lamp cast restless shadows against the fabric walls. His fingers tightened around the quill, hesitating for only a moment before pressing ink to papyrus.

To my Pharaoh, the Living God, Ruler of the Two Lands,

I write to you with an urgent matter that weighs heavily upon me. Today, my men discovered a woman within our camp, hiding in one of my tents. She bore no weapons, no clear signs of allegiance, yet she carried herself with an air I cannot explain. She claimed to have wandered the desert for hours, lost from her companions. A common enough excuse—but something about her does not sit right.

Her presence is unnatural. Her appearance, her manner, the way she speaks—it is as though she does not belong here, as though she is not meant to be in this place or time. I should have ended her life the moment she was found; spies are dealt with swiftly. And yet, my hand hesitated. Why?

It was then that I recalled the words of the High Priest, who only days ago spoke of a shift in the air, of a presence that would alter the course of what we know. Could this woman be the one he spoke of? Or is she merely another wanderer with secrets she dares not share?

I seek your wisdom, my Pharaoh. What is to be done with this woman? Shall I send her to the gods, or shall I wait and see what fate unfolds?

Your loyal servant, General Horus

Horus leaned back, exhaling slowly as he rolled the papyrus and pressed his seal upon it. His instincts screamed that this woman was no ordinary wanderer, yet his mind could not decipher why.

Stepping out of his tent, he caught the attention of a nearby soldier.

"Take this message," he commanded, handing over the scroll. "Send it with our swiftest messenger bird. The Pharaoh is no longer in Memphis—he has traveled south to Thebes to seek the wisdom of the High Priest. This message must reach him there without delay."

The soldier bowed and disappeared into the night, the sound of his boots fading into the stillness. Horus remained standing at the tent's entrance, staring out across the desert. The wind carried whispers of something unseen, something just beyond his grasp.

Whatever this woman was, whatever she represented—he would find out soon enough.

The morning sun crept over the horizon, painting the encampment in golden light. The scent of baked bread and fresh dates lingered in the air, remnants of the breakfast Jade had been given.

The food had been shockingly good, better than anything she had imagined from an ancient army camp. The warm, spiced porridge and fruit had filled her with much-needed energy, though the unease in her stomach had yet to settle.

She moved carefully as she approached a bronze basin filled with cool water. A servant had brought it earlier, along with unfamiliar yet fascinating hygiene supplies—a smooth twig for brushing her teeth, crushed herbs mixed with a gritty powder, and perfumed oil to cleanse her skin.

Everything felt strange yet oddly luxurious.

Does all the people back in this day and age use all of this?

She picked up the small bowl of crushed herbs mixed with a gritty powder, eyeing it warily.

Was she supposed to chew this? Rub it on her teeth?

The idea of scrubbing her mouth with something that looked like it belonged in a spice rack made her hesitate.

Instead, she scooped some into the water, swirled it around, and used it as a makeshift mouthwash.

The result? A sharp, earthy bitterness that made her gag. Jade coughed, nearly choking as she spit it back into the basin.

Well, that was disgusting.

Maybe she should've just chewed on the twig like the servant instructed her to do. She sighed, feeling both dumb and slightly impressed with herself for at least trying.

Wiping her mouth, she shook her head. "Time travel survival tip #1: Don't mess with ancient toothpaste."

Splashing water onto her face, she took a deep breath, letting the coolness soothe her. At least, for now, she was being treated well. That could change in an instant.

A woman, likely one of the servant, stepped forward, holding out fresh clothing—a linen dress similar to those worn by Egyptian women of status. It was simple but elegant, dyed lightly and belted at the waist.

Jade hesitated for a moment before taking it.

She needed to blend in.

Along with the dress, the servant placed a pair of new sandals made of woven reeds and soft leather at her feet—simple yet well-crafted, the kind worn by Egyptian women of comfort.

Jade slid them on, feeling the lightness beneath her step.

Before she could think further, the same servant approached her.

"Sit, let me fix your hair," she said softly.

With gentle but practiced hands, she began weaving Jade's hair into an intricate braided style, fastening it with delicate clasps.

"You have such fine hair," the woman murmured, admiring her work. "It suits you well."

Jade gave a small, uncertain smile. It was strange—this moment of care, of normalcy, in the middle of such an unfamiliar world.

As she changed, she listened to the murmurs outside her tent. Soldiers moved about, their voices sharp and purposeful. Something was happening.

Then, the sound of approaching footsteps.

A soldier appeared at the entrance. "The General has summoned you."

Jade's heart pounded. She swallowed hard and straightened her shoulders. Whatever happened next, she had to be ready.