Dull Stones

Hattusa, Hatti

"Are we all ready?"

The cold, menacing voice sliced through the dawn fog like steel.

Soldiers immediately froze, spines straightening as they stood beside their horses, their armor clinking in the quiet morning.

"Yes, My King! We are almost ready!" their voices thundered in perfect unison, reverberating through the yard.

King Telipinus gave a single nod. "Good."

A pause. Then—

"My King, may I ask… why are we bringing so many soldiers?"

The question came from a soft, almost boyish voice.

King Telipinus turned slightly, casting a glance down at the speaker: a wiry young man of sixteen summers with an innocent face and dark, curious eyes.

Kurri.

Most would see a harmless teenager. But the king knew better.

Kurri had been with him since the age of seven. An assassin in training, cloaked in charm and youthful obedience.

Underneath those wide eyes and quiet manner was a weapon honed to pierce without warning.

He wormed his way into trust, then struck when defenses were down.

Telipinus narrowed his eyes.

"Kurri, you've been with me for nine years. I would think you'd know the answer to your own question."

Kurri bowed quickly, shoulders tensing. "Forgive my foolishness, my king."

The king sighed, shaking his head.

"We bring reinforcements in case of unforeseen events. But we travel separately, to avoid raising suspicions. To the people of Egypt, we're just ambassadors. Nothing more."

In truth, a Hittite army entering Egypt openly would mean war—and Hatti couldn't afford that.

Not yet. This was a mission cloaked in diplomacy… but laced with conquest.

The riches of Egypt had dazzled long enough.

It was time they were shared. Or seized.

Kurri nodded solemnly.

"Yes, my King. Also, Princess Atessa… she was in tears when you left. She said to tell you—exact quote—that you are, 'an ass,' for not bringing her."

A flicker of amusement passed over the king's stern features.

"Tessa will survive," he said dryly.

"She's always been spoiled. Hopefully she doesn't torch my wardrobe again. Last time she had a fit, I had to wear ceremonial robes for a week."

Kurri stifled a laugh, knowing better than to let it slip out.

Princess Atessa, the king's younger sister, was the only family the king had left.

At eighteen summers, she was delicate and timid on the surface, but when denied what she wanted, her wrath could raze a palace wing.

Still, Telipinus adored her. Protected her. And this journey was far too dangerous for her to be part of.

He exhaled through his nose, pressing his fingers to his temple. He needed a clear head. Egypt was no place for distraction.

"Tell the men to move out. We have a long journey ahead."

Kurri straightened.

"Yes, my King!" He disappeared into the yard like a shadow.

Telipinus turned his gaze to the horizon—the vast, open desert glowing gold in the rising sun.

A week to reach Egypt's border. Three more days to reach the capital.

Time was slipping through his fingers.

Something called him there.

He didn't know what. Not yet.

Perhaps it was the amulet, its ancient whisper pulling at his blood.

He smirked to himself.

And walked forward into fate, unaware that his life was about to unravel.

Because of her.

***

The sun sat low in the sky, casting a soft golden hue over the bustling streets of Memphis.

Though it was still early, the market was already alive with chatter, clinking coin, and the sweet aroma of baked bread and herbs.

Jade walked with purpose, her hood drawn low over her brow, blending in beneath a plain linen shawl.

Escaping the palace had required more creativity than she'd expected—mostly because her new personal attendant, Sasa, couldn't stop talking.

The girl was a whirlwind of chatter and kindness, and it was nearly impossible to get a moment alone.

So Jade had done the only thing she could think of.

She asked Sasa to run a highly specific and completely fake errand: to fetch a jar of imported Damascene honey that may or may not exist, for a "special tea" Jade claimed she wanted to try.

Sasa, ever eager to please, had practically sprinted out of the chamber.

And the moment she did, Jade had slipped out the back halls and into the city.

She had slipped out of the palace with the ease of someone who'd done it before—though not without her heart racing the entire time.

She didn't know why she felt so drawn back to this place. All she knew was that she had to find him.

The old man.

The one selling dull, ordinary-looking stones.

It had been just a flicker of a moment the day before—a stall barely glanced at in the middle of chaos.

But something about him… about the way he looked… had left a mark. And now, she is back.

Jade pushed deeper into the market, ignoring the strange looks and colorful stalls.

She passed butchers, spice vendors, potters, and cloth merchants. Every face she passed added to her nerves.

If someone recognized her, word would travel fast.

She stopped at the corner where she remembered seeing him. Her heart sank.

Gone.

The stall was empty. No mat. No rocks. No sign of the man with weathered skin and eyes like forgotten stories.

But just as she turned to leave, something tugged at her instincts.

A faint trail of scattered pebbles—leading toward an alley.

Jade hesitated only a second before following them.

As she slipped into the narrow alleyway, the noise of the market dimmed behind her. The air was cooler here.

Still. And at the very end, crouched beneath the shade of an old fig tree, was the old man.

He was arranging stones again. Carefully. Lovingly.

Jade stepped closer.

"Excuse me," she said softly.

The old man didn't look up. "You came."

Jade froze.

"…You were expecting me?"

His hands didn't stop moving.

"You carry something ancient with you. Something that doesn't belong to this world."

Jade's mouth went dry. "Who are you?"

The old man finally looked up, and for the briefest moment, his eyes glinted—not with age, but with knowledge older than stone.

"I've been waiting for you for a very long time, child of two lives."