Page 65 of Rise of the Gods: Vardor's Destiny
The ship dipped lower, sweeping over the Nile's winding body, and my attention shifted. The river had survived. Even when the palace turned to dust and the trees disappeared, the Nile remained, cutting through the desert like a lifeline. I could almost hear the past murmuring beneath the water's surface, whispering the names of kings, of warlords, of gods.
Cairo was alive with movement, heat, and voices. What Rowena called minarets and golden domes gleamed in the sun, streets teemed with people, and the air was thick with the scents of spice, incense, and life.
I turned to Roweena, whose eyes were still locked on the city.
"You've always wanted to come here," I said. It wasn't a question.
She nodded, and her fingers tightened around mine. "I used to dream about it. About walking these streets, standing before the pyramids, touching history with my own hands."
I studied her for a long moment, and something in me softened.
"Then let's do it," I murmured.
When she looked at me, for a moment there was no Vaelora, no destiny, no coming war. Only us. The ship descended, carrying us closer to the city Vaelora had dreamed into existence. It wouldn't be long now until we reached ourdestination. Vaelora's hidden temple. The gods only knew what would happen next. The very least I could give Roweena was Cairo and the pyramids she had always wanted to see.
I owed her that much.
If not more.
The sun blazed high in the sky, casting long, sharp shadows across the golden sands as we rode toward the Great Pyramids of Giza. My heart pounded with excitement, the kind that made my fingers tremble against the reins of my horse, and my breath quickened with anticipation.
This was the moment I had dreamed of since I was a child, since the first time I had seen an ancient papyrus sketch of these impossibly grand structures in a book. And now, here I was, in the land of the pharaohs and gods, where history stretched further back than any kingdom of men I had ever heard of.
The moment the city faded behind us and the pyramids came into full view, my breath caught in my throat.
They were larger than I had ever imagined, towering above the desert like eternal sentinels. Their limestone faces worn by time yet still radiating majesty, power, permanence.
I barely contained my excitement as I turned to Vardor, who sat tall in his saddle beside me, his expression unreadable.
"You do not know how long I've waited for this," I breathed, my voice filled with reverence.
He watched me, his gaze dark and knowing. "I think I do."
I let out a shaky laugh, barely able to tear my gaze away. "I used to sit for hours reading about this place. About the kings who built these monuments. About how these stones were quarried from across the Nile and dragged over land, lifted intoplace with nothing but sheer will and ingenuity." I gestured at the pyramids, aching to be closer, to touch them, to feel their age beneath my fingertips.
"They say the Great Pyramid was once covered in smooth white limestone, so polished it gleamed like a second sun. Can you imagine that? A mountain of light rising from the sands?"
Vardor followed my gaze but said nothing.
I pressed on, driven by the force of my enthusiasm.
"The pyramid of Khufu, the largest, is said to be more than four thousand years old. And that one—" I pointed toward the second largest, its top still covered in a faint cap of casing stones. "That's the pyramid of Khafre. People used to think it was taller than Khufu's, but it only looks that way because it was built on slightly higher ground. And the smallest—Menkaure's pyramid—was unfinished when he died, but it's said his descendants continued his work."
I turned to Vardor, expecting him to be at least somewhat impressed, but his expression remained unreadable and distant.
I frowned. "This isn't what you remember, is it?"
His gaze flicked to me then, a muscle ticked in his jaw. "No."
I studied him, "Tell me."
He was silent for a long moment as if weighing whether to answer. Then, finally, he exhaled.
"The last time I stood in this place, there was no city called Cairo. There were nopyramids." His gaze returned to the great structures. "Only trees, rivers, and Vaelora's palace."
A shiver ran through me at his words. I turned back to the pyramids, seeing them through his eyes for the first time. Where I saw monuments to kings, he saw a goddess's lost empire. For a moment, a trick of the sun, I was sure, I saw a white palace set with gold, hundreds of trees, and pools so clear the sky reflected in them. It was the most beautiful sight I had ever laid eyes on.
"These weren't here," Vardor continued, destroying the last remnants of the mirage. "But Vaelora spoke of them. She spoke of building a city that would never fall. A city that would outlast empires."
