MEMNON'S PALACE
A magnificent hall, befitting a warlord who seeks to become a god. The towering pillars are gilded with gold, their surfaces carved with the stories of conquerors. The walls are lined with braziers, casting flickering light across the room. A massive throne of obsidian and gold looms at one end. Beyond an arched balcony, the city of Gomorrah stretches below, its fires burning like distant stars.
Near the balcony, Cassandra sits at a carved wooden table, her delicate fingers tracing the edges of an ancient map. Her face is serene yet troubled, her dark almond-shaped eyes flickering with something beyond the present.
Then—A FLASH OF VISION
A battlefield, scorched earth. Queen Isis, draped in flowing black and gold, astride a warhorse, her warriors surrounding her. Smoke coils from the ruins of a distant village. In the foreground, a wounded woman warrior lies slumped across a saddle, her breathing shallow, her lifeblood dripping onto the earth.
Queen Isis—her face a mask of grief and fury.
Cassandra's eyes snap open. A sharp breath.
Memnon curious questioned."What news from my sorceress today?"
She turns toward the voice. Memnon, tall and broad, strides toward her, flanked by his loyal generals Takmet and Thorak. His armor gleams, crimson and black, the colors of conquest.
Cassandra folds the map with a measured grace."Queen Isis's forces are scattered to the four winds."
She stands, facing them. Her voice is calm but weighted."Pheron's people are leaderless, crumbling after their king's death. They flee their villages, directionless."
Memnon exchanges a glance with his generals, a predatory gleam in his eye. She knew Takmet had betrayed his father Pheron for alliance with Memnon. Poor man didn't realize the moment he joined Memnon his fate was sealed.
Memnon questions."And the Nubian?"
Cassandra answered."Balthazar's warriors remain hidden from my sight."
Cassandra knew one of the gods were protecting them.
A smirk curls Memnon's lips. He gestures to his generals."Inform the armies. The time to strike is near."
Takmet and Thorak bow and exit swiftly. Memnon turns back to Cassandra, regarding her like a wolf eyeing a lamb. He moves closer, casually ripping a shank of venison from a platter."You think me cruel, don't you?"
Cassandra watches as he flings the meat across the room. A young lion and tiger—his prized beasts—lunge at it, their claws raking, their teeth tearing into flesh. The savage sounds echo in the chamber.
She meets his gaze, unreadable."I do not think of you at all."
Memnon chuckles, stepping closer, his presence almost suffocating."Perhaps you've forgotten what it's like beyond these walls."
His voice is low, dangerous. But Cassandra does not flinch."The gods are indifferent. They do not care for men, only their own power."
Cassandra scoffs, barely perceptible. Osiris was no tyrant. Not all gods were not as Memnon believed them to be. He had fooled many—perhaps even himself—but she saw his fate clearly. She had seen the sorcerer who would bring his downfall.
Memnon gestures, and his guards pull the animals apart. He turns back to Cassandra, his voice lowering to a whisper."But I will change all that. I will become a god. And when I do, you will sit beside me—on my throne…"
He reaches for her, his fingers trailing lightly along her arm, savoring the touch."And in my bed."
Cassandra does not recoil—but she does not yield."My Lord, if I were to share your bed, I would lose my sight. And you…You would lose your advantage."
He brushes the back of his hand along her skin, a silent promise of possession.
Suddenly—A VISION STRIKES HER.
A man in a grey hooded cloak, emerging from a swirling portal of energy, standing outside the gates of Gomorrah. His presence is unnatural, inevitable.
Cassandra jerks away as if burned.
Memnon seeing this questioned."What is it?"
She steadies herself, her voice controlled."I am tired from the journey."
Memnon studies her, something unreadable in his dark eyes. Then, he inclines his head. "Then rest. Tomorrow, I will have need of you when my generals arrive."
Cassandra bows slightly."Thank you, my lord."
She turns to leave. As Memnon spoke up."Cassandra."
She pauses. Memnon continued."Your well-being is of the utmost importance to me. You know that, don't you?"
A Cassandra in a beat."Yes, my Lord. You are most generous."
She walks out, her posture regal, her expression unreadable.
Memnon watches her go, his gaze lingering like an addict longing for his last taste of poison.
That night a swirling ring of golden light crackled and roared as it spun in midair, carving an arc of shimmering energy.
The portal was casting long, flickering shadows over the barren landscape.
From within the swirling vortex, a lone figure stepped forward. It was Merlin, who looked at huge walls of Gomorrah from a distance.