Shrouded Piety: The Osiris Contract - Chapter 4

Chapter 3 < | > Chapter 5
Now known as Selina Osiris--or 'Selina of Osiris'--tension between Napoleon and his Godcraft servant cools down and the Egyptian campaign continues over the course of months. During these months, Selina is made to study the Latin alphabet and by extension French language with the ambitious goal being to one day make Selina capable of carrying regular, non-supernatural conversations with Napoleon and his fellows. Alongside her gradual learning of language, Selina falls further into Napoleon's narrative of the Ottoman Empire being an objective evil for Egypt, and so also falling into his spell of believing that Napoleon truly has Egypt's best interests at heart. This subtle anti-Ottoman campaign becomes especially relevant one day though when Napoleon receives two horrid letters from afar, one of which being from the Ottoman Sultan. Furious by the Sultan's letter, Selina privately motions to take matters into her hands as best as she's allowed, in this case, calling upon her ancient gods to bring destruction to Egypt's enemies. Little does Napoleon know, simultaneous with Selina's cursing, dissent in Cairo reaches an unsettling degree...
==Chapter Reading==
== Chapter 4 – Insurrection =
:: A time long ago… ::
Once upon a time, under the blazing Egyptian sun and at a time of Pharaoh in the lands, one such ruler remained at his throne, situated across a long hall of columns. To his side were two guards in nothing more than white cloth and equipped with the sharpest of spears, and finally, before him was a magician, entertaining him in a variety of ways.
The fancying tricks of the magician would leave the pharaoh playing his own hand in slight motions, indicating his light amusement with the show, but his monotone face would say otherwise. This magician’s show would stay on track without interruption; however, both the pharaoh and his guards would retrain their attention to the throne entryway as a rowdy, unprecedented scene made way. Only the commanding clap and dismissive wave of the pharaoh would make the magician go away.
“Lies, Great One!” a man panicked.
Tattered and bloodied from recent confrontation, this richly clothed Egyptian was dragged before the pharaoh by the one once known as SAt-Wsjr, as well as the captain of Pharaoh’s guard. Both had one arm captive, but only the captain came forth with a sword.
A visibly disturbed pharaoh only became horrified and frustrated upon looking past the blood and recognizing the face of the prisoner.
“SAt-Wsjr, Sebat! Why have you dragged my treasurer before me in blood and violence?”
SAt-Wsjr gladly removed her hold of the treasurer and beat a mighty fist to her chest, “King, I spoke to you of a conspiracy to misplace the crown of Egypt and I now bring forth evidence!” She threw a hand at the treasurer, “Take myself and Captain Sebat as witness to Adom’s act of rebellion against the Pharaoh!”
Without immediate words, the pharaoh brought himself up with a mouth left open, “Adom? No, impossible. He is Egypt’s Chief Treasurer by friendship.”
“You speak the truth, my king!” Adom pleaded, “I enacted no such treason against your rule! I am a prisoner now only through misunderstanding or SAt-Wsjr’s wicked ambition for power!”
SAt-Wsjr retorted, “My ambition is only for the love and prosperity of Pharaoh, you vile desert cobra!” She stepped foot and made her case to her liege, “I’ve long suspected Adom’s tyranny and said suspicions were confirmed when I ventured without sandals into his quarters.” The pharaoh lent only a second of attention to the fact she was barefoot in his palace. “My soundless steps got the better of him, for I captured a moment of Adom moving non-Egyptian coinage into sacks of grain of all things.”
“Indeed?”
She nodded, “A mere four words from my mouth was all it took for this excuse for a man to unleash a knife from his purse. I was only so fortunate to have had Captain Sebat nearby to intervene.”
The captain bowed, “SAt-Wsjr was still unarmed when I walked upon Adom attacking. The poor woman suffered two blades to the flesh before getting the chance to summon a blade of her own.” SAt-Wsjr turned to her side and displayed two open spots in her dress—yet no flesh wounds. “Thanks be to the divine ways of Sekhmet that she should heal so quickly.”
The pharaoh’s face became hurt, “I do not understand. Why would you be in the possession of foreign gold during a time of peace?”
“King, I am your treasurer.”
SAt-Wsjr fired down on this, “Your treasurer has been funding insurrection through bribes of foreign coin. He need not report to you the status of our loot like he would the regular Egyptian economy. Weaving a rebellion through Egypt’s infinite supply answers all of my recent suspicions.”
“SAt-Wsjr is lying!”
The captain shouted back, “How do you explain your attack on an unarmed woman then?”
“I- I panicke-” Adom dropped to his knees, escaping the grasp of the captain and raised his hands pleadingly to the pharaoh, “Honest, my King! There is no conspiracy against you as SAt-Wsjr would have you believe! This is a misunderstanding to the likes never before seen!”
SAt-Wsjr asserted to the pharaoh, “Treasurer Adom is a traitor, Pharaoh! If the funding of insurrection is not severed now, the streets may soon fill with rebellion against your rule!”
Adom reached out, “Phar-”
“Enough!” the pharaoh closed his eyes and cringed with extensive anguish, “Adom, you are my friend of many years, and a trusted friend. Alone, I could excuse the curious misplacement of loot, but along with an attack against SAt-Wsjr? Such a crime brings my heart to ruin…”
The captain asked, “What will you wish of this man?”
With a deep exhale, the pharaoh silently muttered aloud, “…treason against Egypt, by a dear friend, no less—an act only a heart so dark could perform. I doubt it is a heart even Ammit could devour…” he turned away from the group, “Perhaps exile into the desert…”
The blue-haired woman and captain stood awaiting a dictation, one that a clearly emotional pharaoh could barely hand out. Given that the criminal in question was a dear friend, it was a conflict of not coming across as weak, a need for justice, and a greater need to protect Egypt.
With almost a cry, the pharaoh said, “SAt-Wsjr, you are the one investigating this conspiracy, I leave Adom’s fate to you…”
With eyes as fierce as a crocodile, SAt-Wsjr announced, “For high crimes against the gods, I say leave Ammit with a tasty heart at haste!”
Suddenly, from below SAt-Wsjr’s palm, bright magic particles manifested into an object, starting as a glowing hilt and furthermore manifesting itself into a greatly curved sword blade—known as a khopesh sword. This magical Godcraft sword came into her hand, and before Adom even noticed the magical sword emerging, his head came undone with one mighty slash of the throat. 
The same moment Adom’s head hit the ground, the thumping of the pharaoh’s heart led the man to clutch at his chest and gasp. The captain and two other guards took notice of this and all gasped, just as SAt-Wsjr soon did as well.
“Pharaoh!”
“King!”
The pharaoh fell backward onto his knees, a hand to his heart, and was held by SAt-Wsjr and the captain. His crown fell off his head, revealing his bald head as he bellied over and gasped for his life. As SAt-Wsjr continued holding him, the captain stood tall and shouted back at the entrance guards.
“Summon the palace priests at once! Hurry!”
Meanwhile, the Godcraft pat her king on the cheek in search of life, “Pharaoh, Pharaoh!”
“Yes, I will be alright…” he gasped at her. “SAt-Wsjr… the gods whisper into my heart… a civil war approaches from the shallow waters…”
SAt-Wsjr nodded, “Surely, Adom’s evil deeds have already corrupted the hearts of many.”
The pharaoh turned his weak head and looked his Godcraft servant in the eyes, “SAt-Wsjr, I appoint you the temporary role of Inquisitor.” She gasped. “Use these emergency powers and do what must be done to spare Egypt the flames of treason…”
“Rest, my King. Drink well and leave your faith in the hands of Ra.”
Soon after, two priests practically dived into action and brought the pharaoh into their own care. SAt-Wsjr watched with immense fright, followed by a transition into sorrow, and finalized with narrowed eyes of immense ire. She stepped down into the immense puddle of blood left by the headless Adom and was soon joined by the captain.
“SAt-Wsjr,” he greeted.
“I have just been appointed Inquisitor.”
“What?”
She wasted no time in taking herself toward the entrance alongside him, “If there are more traitors within the kingdom, I will track them down, so the gods decree.”
The captain grimaced at her as they walked, “D- D- Wait, do I answer to you now?”
Without answering this question directly, SAt-Wsjr commanded, “I want the immediate family of the Treasurer Adom summoned—have them questioned and then summarily beheaded. Take their slaves and question them at threat of a whip.” The captain nodded, now speed walking alongside her. The dark-eyed woman continued, “I want every house in the city imposed upon, every citizen’s belongings searched for anything out of the ordinary and brought before me, as well as their imprisonment.”
“If there are insurrectionists among us, they may respond with violence.”
“So be it. Better more blood be spilled in the houses than anywhere near the pharaoh.”
They finally reached the throne entrance just as three new guards entered past them to assist in the pharaoh’s care. It was here SAt-Wsjr stopped to poke the captain in the chest.
“Spare no ease on even the most innocent of people, let all of Egypt witness the threat that the pharaoh holds over those foolish enough to revolt against the gods…”
:: Present ::
Selina awoke the same way SAt-Wsjr would have thousands of years ago—laid flat on a hot bed, in a palace, and without so much as a candle to bring light into the room. Furthermore, just as she so often did now, the woman had for a waking moment forgotten that she was not in Pharaoh’s Egypt. She was the reluctant servant to a foreigner known as Napoleon and his army of gunpowder soldiers, and not even the Egyptian people now among her worshipped the same religion or spoke the same language as her.
The Godcraft would lay in bed, mulling over this life she currently led. Although free from her tomb after so long, Napoleon did not exactly utilize her supernatural abilities as she might like, nor would he allow her much passage throughout the country. She was excited to be free and even somewhat enthusiastic to resume her protective role in Egypt, yet there still lingered a sort of boredom considering she could not even read any modern texts.
At least for now, that sense of boredom would resolve, for even from as far as her place of stay could the furious shouting of Napoleon be heard from across the palace. She wasted no time in getting off her bed and transporting herself in his direction with quick but quiet steps.
In a nearby room, Napoleon, his brother Louis, and General Kléber carried on a passion filled discussion. Of course, the redheaded Napoleon was the one radiating all the heat in the room and did so with two nearly crumpled letters in his hand.
The head general continued on with a rant, “… and adequate supply cannot simply be bought off the market and foraged. The bastards of the Directory lie! French warships cannot get past the British fleet, there is no way of convincing me that small ordinary ships of supply are unable to reach us!”
Louis brought out his arms, “You see, Brother? Even our own government knows this to be a campaign on decline!”
“Because of them!” Napoleon blamed.
“Fine, yes, sure..!” Louis simply threw away, “Whatever your feelings on the matter, the fact remains that our enemies grow and now even our food and ammunition thins.”
Completely ignoring this, Napoleon looked to Kléber, “So then let us send small ships to France and back, to prove that supply and reinforcement is possible.”
“And what if the British do catch on?”
Napoleon unveiled a stressed smirk, “They won’t. They cannot risk attacking ordinary ships, their entire mission relies on a supportive Egyptian populace, not an angry one. It’s too risky for them to attack what may just be simple Egyptian vessels.”
“That is an inadequate presumption, Brother…”
A fired-up Napoleon turned to Louis with a glare, but what came next out of the General’s mouth would leave his brother shocked. Not familiar French, but alien ancient Egyptian came from Napoleon’s mouth as he carried on with a response of expected tone, but not at all expected language.
“Brother, I… Selina has…”
From Napoleon’s point of view, now it was Louis who spoke the ancient tongue. A swift and surprised turn of the General’s head would reveal the source of this miscommunication—the blue-haired Selina currently in control of Napoleon’s mind.
“General,” she greeted in a pleasant tone, “What troubles you today?”
The man did not bother with a greeting, nor did he hesitate to dismiss his fellow men to engage the Godcraft in her language, “A letter from the devils of the Directory.” A second opened letter was held up. “A letter from the greater devils of the Ottoman Empire.”
Even without understanding a word out of Napoleon’s mouth, Louis and Kléber could stand still with confidence that this was repeated information. Selina’s hostility was naturally biased toward the Ottoman letter over the French government letter.
“What do those Ottoman snakes have to say?”
Napoleon chose to take a detour, first addressing the Directory letter, “The Directory of France informs us today that given our recent naval tragedy, they do not see any path forward with sending vessels to Egypt, and so, no reinforcements, no more food, ammunition… The incompetent bastards have abandoned us out of fear of the British!”
Selina nodded, but otherwise did not shed anything as far as a facial reaction. “It matters little, one of your leadership will have no problem using Egypt’s rich assets to repel the enemy.”
“Thank you!” Napoleon celebrated with a brief glare at the two officers in the room. “I agree, Selina, I agree. We will win the hearts of the Egyptian people and dye the sands with Turkish blood. In the meantime, I will find a way to get the resources from France myself.”
Anxious for an answer, Selina waved to the other letter, “The Ottoman correspondence?”
Napoleon looked to the letter with blazing ire, “The Sultan, too, has received word of our naval defeat to the British. The Ottomans believe that our defeat is assured and has the insane audacity to impose terms of surrender upon us.”
“Never!” Louis and Kléber both widened their eyes at Selina’s foreign outburst. “We will die by the sword before surrendering Egypt back to its tormentors!”
With the slightest nod, Napoleon theorized, “The Ottomans are testing our morale. No mere naval blockade will end our occupation of Egypt, and they know this.” A rare sight of discouragement on Napoleon’s part raised Selina’s blood. “Even so… The letter at least makes clear the Ottoman intent to prolong the war. A shame…”
The next thing he knew, he found Selina taking a knee before him and placing a hand to her Ankh necklace. “General, send me to meet with this dirty Sultan. I will impose a peace offer of our own, and if they do not accept, I will personally burn their crops and cattle, and slay their resisting villainy.”
A single laugh, “What? Absolutely not, no, you stay where you are.”
Selina gasped, “But -”
“You are too special of an interest to my mission, Selina. I cannot threaten your valuable life with a mission I doubt will succeed.”
“General, you needn’t worry about my condition. As a Godcraft, I am blessed with -”
“No.” His firm order silenced Selina but put an unmistakable look of frustration on her. “It is too dangerous, too risky, I will not send you. We will win without covert actions.”
Selina grinded her teeth for a few seconds yet with only mild expression to go with it. She remained on a knee and concluded, “I will respect your wish and remain here… but it is a wish I respect with a bleeding heart, for I know I could bring great pain to the Ottoman menace…”
“That will do, Selina. Go now, continue to practice your French, and do help yourself to anything in the kitchen you desire.”
The Godcraft raised herself, shut her eyes with frustration more visible, and muttered, “…‘Merci’…”
Selina, henceforth, placed herself back into her place of living, illuminated well with candles as she slaved over the Latin alphabet. The look on her face while attempting mastery of this foreign writing was that of displeasure, but not from boredom, rather the consequential ire toward the Ottoman Empire’s hostility toward French Egypt as well as Napoleon’s refusal to let her directly intervene. Memorizing letters and the sounds associated with each was a task one as loyal and free of time as Selina could handle, but it was not the greater matter at hand in her eyes.
…should he command it, I would have the Sultan dragged from his throne and put at the mercy of Napoleon’s sword…
In that minute or so of thought, the Godcraft would even catch a pattern in her gaze. Although her eyes misspelled it, her gaze would shift letter-to-letter, spelling out ‘Otomen,’ and with this subconscious pattern came the passionate beating of an offended heart.
Eventually, her emotions got the better of her, and so a powerful slap came upon the paper she was studying, followed by a firm stance.
“I will not stand idle as Egypt’s enemy surrounds her with bloodied blades.”
The woman marched out from her room, across a bridge connecting one part of the palace to another, and eventually back into the usual meeting room. This time neither Napoleon nor any of his men were present, but this did not stop the Godcraft on her very automatic march toward the balcony of this room. Finally, she stepped outside and brought her body to the balcony railing.
While daytime remained, a gradually reddening sky and lowering sun would suggest the approach of evening. At this moment, Selina, with a wicked face, scanned the Egyptian horizon with only moving her eyes. She could see much in her brief scan: The deserts, the pyramids, the many homes of modern Cairo, and the water, but not the Ottoman Empire she sought pain for.
For a moment, a mixture of ease and disappointment came upon her face not knowing the direction of the Ottoman Empire. She meditated on the matter for the shortest time before rediscovering her darker emotions. Eyes both fierce and committed ended up connecting with the setting sun.
Slowly came Selina’s hands toward the sun, so close together that it would appear as though she were holding onto it. Sprinkles of fiery Godcraft energy proceeded to fall from one hand down to the other, showering the captured sun.
“Great King of Night, Seker…” the fiery image of a falcon god appeared within her invisible grasp of the sun, “Hear Egypt’s pleading cry, and might you take Egypt’s enemies and drown them now and forevermore…”
She released this flaming image of Seker, allowing the flames to fade into the falling sun. This was followed by a moment of deep contemplation of which was followed by a nearly identical process.
“Divine King of Egypt, Horus…” a similar looking falcon god was cast with fire, “Hear Egypt’s pleading cry, and bless the people of Egypt with the will and might to dispose of their enemies…”
Meanwhile, out in the streets of Cairo, Napoleon and his brother carried on inspecting a propaganda drive among other things. Flanked by French soldiers, these men raised posters over town urging Egyptian support of the French war campaign, citing French victories and fabricated Ottoman atrocities.
During this walk, Napoleon waved his hand toward a school, “There, we will seize that.”
Louis scoffed at his brother, “You really think revoking a school will do well for our reputation?”
The general nodded, and briefly waved toward a mosque, “The school will be subsidized, as will the clergy, for the educational body will need to be merged with the mosques so that we may convert the school into a supply depot.”
“Dearest brother, considering we do not know if we will even acquire any supply -”
“Spare your words,” Napoleon stopped to strike a pose, “We will acquire supplies and reinforcements from France, with or without the Directory’s help.” 
‘…Shield of Pharaohs, Sekhmet… …Hear Egypt’s pleading cry, and incite fury and passion for violence into the hearts of Egypt toward its enemies…’
As Napoleon and his men passed an alleyway, two men in common robes imposed a glare on the unaware general. Hidden by both men were readied knives. They were not alone, for two more men adjacent from this street, too, readied weapons within their seemingly peaceful persons.
‘…Holder of All Knowledge, Thoth… …Through your just magics, bring forth a plague to Egypt’s enemies so unbearable that they dare not think to ever return…’
One last, synchronous step by Napoleon and his brother would seemingly trigger a city bell to ring far, one that was so distant in its normally scheduled time that both men would stop in their place to investigate the sound. Napoleon, though unnerved, came off less so than his brother, of whom took his eyes around wide and with a slight tremble.
“Napoleon, I…” fear of the ringing bell soon proved to be justified, for the coming of many Egyptian citizens into the streets in a rush began. “I suggest we return to the palace at once!”
Now reality came crashing down on Napoleon, whose eyes, at last but a minute too late, widened with disturbed realization.
“Soldiers!” Napoleon shouted, “Bayonets, ready!”
‘…God of the Dead, Osiris… …Lead Egypt’s enemies into these very palace halls, so that I may deliver them to your scales of final judgment…’
The Egyptian tolerance toward their French occupiers was a volcano long ready to erupt, and that day had now arrived with promise of blood. The several French soldiers accompanying Napoleon and his brother were already faced by a violent mob from all corners. Any neutral folk would take themselves away from the scene in a panic, soon leaving only Egyptian rebels and French soldiers. For a few more moments, a tense standoff was all that occurred with French muskets now equipped with bayonets, but this was not to last, for the sound of distant gunfire in other parts of the city superseded Napoleon’s authority.
One frantic soldier took a shot into the angry mob, instantly penetrating the stomach of an Egyptian and knocking him back into the mob. It was a frantic response and one Napoleon condemned with a wide glare.
“Idiot! I did not say to f-”
Nevertheless, the mob, having reached its limit, charged toward the huddle of Frenchmen. All French soldiers closed in around Napoleon and his brother, and each took their shots at the mob. Several Egyptians dropped dead, musket smoke filled the streets, and Egyptian rebels gladly threw themselves toward the deadly bayonets threatening them.
Napoleon and Louis examined the fight around them with mutual shock, but it was only the former who cared to reach for his personal pistol, of which the first shot was already loaded.
“Brother, you carry a pistol on you?” Louis asked with surprise.
“Why not you?”
Although equipped with one, Napoleon made clear with his aim at the sky that he only intended to defend himself from immediate danger with it. Despite larger numbers, the rebels were fought off by the soldiers quite effectively, partly due to the long range of their bayonets vs. the rebel knives and swords. To the surprise of both brothers, blood already spilled through the lines of Frenchmen and approached their boots.
Napoleon quirked his mouth at the rushing blood and stepped away, momentarily after ordering, “Soldiers! Clear a path to the palace at once! At once, at once!”
While effort in carrying out this order was clearly attempted, the sheer number of rebels in the direction of the palace made it too difficult to execute fast. As time went on, a new problem began to emerge as well; the rebels were learning on the spot that the French soldiers could be defeated through overwhelming a single side, therefore with every passing moment more and more rebels appeared to their rear. This change in rebel strategy helped Napoleon’s men beat down the rebels in the palace’s way, but on the other side, French soldiers were finally being hammered.
At last, the French began marching toward the palace while simultaneously fighting, but also came the first and second soldier deaths to the rear. Napoleon’s rear became ever so more in danger as Egyptian knives so violently tore one soldier down the throat, and the other many stabs to the abdomen. Napoleon and Louis would have surely been rushed and killed were it not for the miracle of an alley they all marched to, which allowed several French soldiers to reposition themselves to the rear just in time. Soon enough the walls of this alley would lead to a new system where Napoleon and Louis were guarded from front and rear by soldiers, left and right by alley walls. The rebels fought the soldiers right into the alley, but for the moment, Napoleon was safe.
Louis took this moment of all times to lecture, “Now do you see where our persistence has gotten us? We control the pyramids, but without hold of their hearts, we control nothing!”
An explosion nearby would for a second or two stop the fighting in this alley, no one knew where an explosion could have possibly come from, other than perhaps a work of artillery sabotage. One of the rear French soldiers seized the confusing moment by thrusting his bayonet into a rebel with unmatched force. Napoleon sped up his retreat with a pistol still raised just in case.
“We just need to reach the palace,” Napoleon responded in a strangely calm manner.
Once out of the alley, Napoleon and Louis were met with a chaotic scene—clashes left and right of the palace, dead or dying French and Egyptian forces scattered in pools of blood, blades were clashing, and the lingering smoke of musket fire everywhere. The soldiers still in the alley were still holding off the rebels as the two brothers examined the city but were basically just holding off an inevitable alley flood at this point. On the bright side, the palace stood before them.
Louis swat a hand over Napoleon’s chest, urging, “Napoleon, I’ve misjudged the scale of the uprising. Forget the palace, we would best travel north and surrender ourselves to the British or Turks.”
The very idea placed thin eyes upon Napoleon, “Surrender? What? Nonsense.”
“Open your eyes! Cairo is lost, we should cut our losses and live to fight another day!”
Louis’ hand was grabbed, and following this, the ambitious brother took him in the direction of the palace, abandoning the alley soldiers and forcing the two to go at it alone. 
“The palace is there!”
“And what exactly is the palace to do that these soldiers cannot?”
“Selina.”
Louis’ eyes widened, “The idol serving witch? What? That is how you intend to save Cairo?”
Napoleon rushed them through the palace courtyard, where they were soon greeted by the bodyguard Roustam and two other soldiers. From this point on, Napoleon curbed his enthusiasm and resumed walking. He was deadest on finding Selina in this palace, but even Roustam would join Louis’s plea.
“General Bonaparte, it’s dangerous here. The palace is surrounded by militants, some possibly inside.”
Ignoring even him, Napoleon took two steps up the main staircase, leaving one mighty step over the last and calling up, “Selina! Present yourself!”
Synonymous with his order, a nearby window shattered, and through it a rebel equipped with a sword. Three soldiers all turned with their bayonets to deal with the threat, but an irate Napoleon chose instead to turn with his pistol and bullet the man with a lucky shot. The rebel hunched over the broken window, dead on the spot.
“Good shot,” Louis complimented.
Unable to stay focused on a single matter, Napoleon asked the room, “Where is General Kléber?”
Louis answered, “He and his army should be near Alexandria at the moment.”
“Menou?”
Louis answered this as well, “Lower Egypt.” Napoleon let out a grumble. “The weight of Cairo falls on our shoulders.”
The sound of glass shattering continued, but this time from unknown locations. It now became evident that rebels were indeed infiltrating the palace, and poor planning had the palace nearly undefended. Napoleon had begun to reload his pistol in preparation for a very tight situation.
Roustam took a knee before his master and suggested, “General, surrender is out of the question, but I would advise that we at least evacuate you and your family out of Cairo.”
Napoleon did not answer but granted his slave eyes of consideration. Louis gazed up at the entrance, horrified by the sight of approaching rebels, far too overwhelming for the three soldiers guarding the entrance.
Louis gulped, “I fear he is correct; surrender is out of the question…”
Finally, coming down the staircase was Napoleon’s last hope, “General, what is it?” Selina said in flawed French.
Napoleon spun around and ordered, “Speak your own tongue to me, for now.”
So it was done as she spoke personally to him, “What can I do for you?”
“Everything,” he answered. “Egypt is under attack by rebels.”
“An Egyptian uprising..?”
Napoleon felt as though his heart stopped for a moment, needing to play a rather political game even now, “Err…” he bit his lip, “Egyptians… in name only. The true Egyptians remain loyal, th- these rebels have been corrupted by the evil teachings of the Ottoman Empire, yes, that is right.” He waved his hand at the approaching rebels with panic, “No, no, not Egyptians, Selina. You are an Egyptian by name and heart; these are Egyptians by name, Ottoman by heart.”
Incredibly, despite the very relevant implications of the matter, Selina gladly accepted this lie as truth and logic, “Scum.”
Refusing to make an appearance of desperation, Napoleon still found himself cupping his hands together as if begging his servant, “I need you to repel this revolt with your Godcraft powers. Call forth blazing hail, control their minds, melt their swords… something!” Finally, the three soldiers guarding the entrance engaged a mob of rebels. Within seconds, they would be overwhelmed. “Hurry!”
Selina bowed, “Worry not, General, I had just a short time ago appealed to the gods and wished a curse upon the enemies of Egypt.” Napoleon shook his head, a quirked smile of shock. “The gods work mysteriously, carefully, but efficiently.”
Louis and Roustam, unable to understand ancient Egyptian speech, just stood around waiting for some great magical resolution to emerge. Napoleon remained frozen with the same desperate face. As expected, the soldiers holding off the mob were now being surrounded and cut up.
“Um…” Napoleon looked back at the dying soldiers, “How about something that will actually work?”
Selina let out a somewhat humored sound, “I will not fail you, General. Like pharaohs of ancient past, I will protect you and deliver the damned to Osiris’ court of justice.”
Napoleon came behind her, watching as rebels now approached the four. “Hurry, Selina..!”
The Godcraft stepped toward the rebels, reaching one hand out while pointing at them with the other.
“May all traitors of Egypt know eternal pain!”
Everyone in the room reacted with surprise as Selina’s empty hand at that moment began to materialize a hilt out of bright energy. Many rebels would stop just at the sight of this alone, others only when this same energy began to materialize a blade. Out of thin air, Selina had equipped her ancient khopesh sword, and now with the other hand, a second occurrence.
Her pointed finger became an open hand, with each fingertip glowing a burning orange as she conjured a wall art image from fire. It was this final act that convinced all of the rebels to cease their attack, leaving many to even retreat ahead of time. She did not cease her attack, however.
“Just as the heart of Ra burns in eternal glory, so shall your mortal flesh!”
She blasted the tomb art image from her hand, creating a massive and very wide image of a winged sun disc—a blazing circle with long bird wings flanking it. Although intended for a stone wall, Selina saw this power as resourceful for combat as well, a lesson the rebels would learn the hard way.
The blazing sun disc slammed into the rebels, mostly harming those in the front, but most noticeable catching their robes on fire and immediately causing a bright fire show. Napoleon could hardly believe his eyes, yet this did not stop him from reloading his pistol. Roustam guarded his general with a sword, but in terms of actual close combat, only Selina felt willing to go on the offensive. As some rebels burned down to bone and ash, Selina rushed forth with her sword and delivered lethal strikes with that. Her sword, in practice, was nothing special though, its specialty merely being an object made from Godcraft power; she cut through rebels just as any swordsman would do.
Rebels ran, Selina killed, and only the bravest turned to fight here. The palace entrance quickly become the place of fire and blood, and for most people, fear as well. The Godcraft made it past the burning corpses and personally saw to it that each and every rebel fled from the palace entrance, though she found herself challenged by three rebels at the same time, only two of whom she could effectively block at once. There was absolutely no room for her to land attacks in this situation, only blocks.
“Selina!” Napoleon had produced himself just meters behind her, and had his pistol aimed at her foes, “Duck!”
A translation issue led Selina to looking back at Napoleon briefly, “A duck?”
Napoleon fired his pistol, taking down one of the three rebels, but in this time of confusion, Selina found herself bested. One rebel with great strength plunged a knife into Selina just below her breasts, causing the woman to nearly fall. Napoleon gasped and dropped his pistol at the sight of this.
The rebel proceeded to dig the knife as deep as possible into her body while urging her to be silent. The second rebel, identifying victory but also risk, decided to finally run off and regroup with his comrades. With what strength Selina still had, she unsummoned her sword, slapped both hands over the rebel’s face, and conjured a final tomb art attack—centralized on his face. The man’s head ignited instantly and left him running about screaming. 
“Selina!” 
The Godcraft fell to her rear as if merely being struck over the head, but her stomach was already made red with much of her own blood. He, Roustam, and Louis soon joined Selina out by the entrance and laid her down. It was when laid out that Napoleon truly witnessed the severity of the stabbing.
Selina was practically drowning in blood, but after spitting out much of it urged, “I’m alright, General… Please, run to safety and I will rejoin you soon…”
“General!” an officer shouted, soon joining the group. “The rebellion is most present in the south, it’s likely that they are headquartered at the mosque.”
He was accompanied by a few soldiers, but at this time all Napoleon could do was look down at his Godcraft servant with sorrow. As Selina soon found herself surrounded by her own blood, Napoleon’s look of sorrow and disappointment, transitioned into narrowed eyes of pure, unmatched ire.
“I will be all right, General. I just need to rest and heal…”
Napoleon turned away from Selina with clenched fists, tightly shaking them while looking at the many corpses in the palace courtyard. Finally, he turned to the newly emerged officer with an order.
“Find me some horses and artillery at once. This atrocity will not go unanswered…”
Cairo burned, bled, screamed, and choked on its own smoke. The revolt succeeded initially in wounding the French occupation and certainly imposed a message of unwelcome, but a revolt of knives and peasantry could only do so much. With the shock of the attack passing, the French military would reorganize and repel the revolt with efficiency. Unfortunately for these common Egyptian citizens, Napoleon Bonaparte had a demon clenching his heart, and it called for revenge.
Like out of a scene from more barbaric times, Napoleon and many cavalrymen galloped the streets of Cairo, severing heads by way of blade. The general himself took it upon himself to lead this charge and even claim Egyptian heads himself. With each slaying, he cast a message in blood that he who resists the French would suffer a similar fate—a dying Selina fueled this violent drive.
Napoleon and his men terrorized the streets with little care for prejudice; if they were not in French uniform, they were likely affiliated with the revolt was his rash conclusion. At the end of the day though, the man knew that to end this revolt, he would need to strike directly at the heart, but once he did so, earning the respect of the Egyptian people would become a forever impossible task.
Following many minutes of headhunting, Napoleon brought his horse to a hard stop alongside rows of artillery, each aimed at the same controversial target. It was hardly a secret to anyone that the suddenly heavily barricaded mosque in Cairo headquartered this insurrection. To attack a religious institution was a decision any man would need to think carefully on before doing; it just so happened that Egypt made an enemy out of a man who once shelled the pope’s city—attacking an Islamic structure hardly disturbed his conscience.
“Fire!”
At his order, a line of artillery explosions doomed any hope for the Egyptian rebels. Several munitions struck the mosque before them, blowing the rich and delicate structure to rubble in some places while at the same time covering the entire structure with smoke and debris. Not a word or sign of response would come from this, yet a very tempered Napoleon kept his shoulders up strong, and his ire unrelenting.
“Fire!”
A few minutes after the first wave of cannon fire, a new barrage was ordered at the same structure. While this wave of explosions would leave the mosque in devastated condition, the holy place refused to collapse upon its inhabitants, and so the French general took out his sword and pointed toward the smoking mess.
“Onward!”
From within the fortified mosque, countless Egyptians of Islam tried to survive the dust and debris filling the holy place. Many were armed with swords, knives, farming tools, and even guns, but the majority were unarmed, including the very clergymen who once guided Napoleon to the pyramids. Despite the artillery shelling, the mosque’s interior remained intact, save for the mess of debris and holed walls.
What safety still existed within this mosque was soon ended, however, as soon the entrance was kicked open by French guardsmen—some of Napoleon’s best men at that. The soldiers for the most part came in silent and orderly, guarding an open door with muskets and bayonets out toward the mosque’s inhabitants. Finally, the irate Napoleon Bonaparte came riding forth with a coat waving behind him like a cape, and his sweaty hair briefly crossing his dark gaze. The general did the most unthinkable kind of sin at this moment—riding a dirty horse into a place sacred to Muslims.
The angry Frenchman called out into the smoky interior, “You wish to hang your liberator? Have at me, rebellious scum!”
Although Napoleon’s French would not translate to the Arabic Egyptians before him, the sight of him trotting cavalry into their holy place was more than enough convincement to bring many of the rebels out from hiding and ready to charge at the man. The sight of rebel pistols was what triggered various French soldiers to retaliate and charge forth with their muskets. Both French and Egyptian blood were about to flood the sacred floors.
“Stop!” a voice pleaded from the smoke and dust. “No more violence!”
The voice caused the Egyptians to reluctantly lower their arms, but not the French, though it did leave Napoleon with a brow raised. The voice’s source soon emerged in front of Napoleon’s horse, one clergyman with his palms up in forfeit.
“Ah, yes,” Napoleon responded, “I should have known it was the religious institute to incite this needless violence.”
Brave and bold, the clergyman retorted, “Before the French arrived, Egypt lived in relative peace. You have brought warfare to these lands, and by the will of God should your atrocities be condemned!” Napoleon insulted the man with an angry smirk and headshake. “But all the same, I cannot allow this status quo to destroy Egypt, and so I will call off this revolt and suffer your vile punishment.”
Napoleon crossed his arms, “Neither of us wishes for the destruction of Egypt, and so a natural alliance of Islam with my own ambitions have been reached. In exchange for the truce you are begging for, I expect you to state this truth clearly to all of your faith.”
A tense silence crossed the two for a while, as Napoleon awaited an answer from the clergyman. During this wait, a broken piece of the mosque’s ceiling fell between the two and was caught by the clergyman with a single hand.
“Cairo will lay its arms down tonight… but no Muslim shall ever pray for your soul, Napoleon Bonaparte.”
Napoleon’s eyes slowly turned to slits as he meditated on a reaction. He sheathed his sword, ordered his horse to turn back to the entrance, but before making his departure said, “Fortunately, it is their loyalty I require, not their prayers. Loyalty can be made.”
With this, he commanded his horse out the door and back into the blazing city, comfortable enough that a resolution to the revolt would soon come that he could return to a more personal matter.
By the time Napoleon returned to the palace, now slightly damaged, he would be relieved by the sight of much higher security in the form of heavily skilled guards at every entrance. What he was not expecting was the swift appearance of Louis and Roustam, both of whom ran up to his horse with equal looks of shock.
“Brother!” Louis shouted.
Napoleon dropped to the ground and received him, “What? What?”
Louis hopped backward with an arm gesturing Napoleon to follow, “Come, you must see! It’s a miracle!”
“What miracle?” Napoleon left his bodyguard in the dust to run alongside Louis. “A miracle? Did a surgeon manage to save Selina?”
While climbing upstairs, Louis turned around, daring to climb backwards so that he could say, “No doctor ever had a chance to so much as look at the woman.”
This struck some impatient ire from Napoleon, “Whatever in the hell does that mean?” The brothers, and eventually Roustam, arrived at a curtained entrance, “Louis, spare me the blistering suspense!”
Louis opened the curtain in a dramatic fashion, revealing to Napoleon a standing Selina ahead of him. Although splattered by blood, the woman was not at all in the same dying condition he had left her in. Torn between overjoy and confusion, it was confusion that prevailed in the form of a shocked but puzzled face and pose.
“Selina!” 
From this moment forward, Selina privatized their communication as usual via ancient tongue. “Blessings to you, Napoleon. I hope that this wicked revolt is coming to an end.”
The man took slow steps in her direction, “It… is coming to a close… soon, but…” he stopped himself from gawking and got down to the obvious, “How do you stand before me now? There is simply no way anyone could have survived the damage that had been dealt.”
She thus lectured, “I have told you over the long time we’ve now known each other…”
Her lecture was interrupted with fair offense taken as Napoleon had invited himself to place two hands below her breasts and physically investigate for a wound. He found the bloodied slash in her dress where the impalement occurred but found only smooth flesh within.
Selina continued with slight irritation in her voice, “As I was saying, you have been told before that my Godcraft exploits permit me to repair flesh wounds and other ailments even seconds into receiving them,” Napoleon grunted at her with wide eyes, “I invite you to pay attention to me in the future.”
“How!?” He again looked into the slashed cloth for evidence of a wound or scar, only this time Selina forced his hands away from her body. “How is it done? Can I learn of this ability?”
“No mortal may know this gift.” Napoleon dropped his eyebrows for a moment, but nevertheless maintained his interest in her. “It is a Godcraft ability I’ve known longer than my memory serves.”
Almost as if to add to the suspense, Selina summoned her Godcraft khopesh into hand, and even before the gasps of her peers settled, she had gladly gone about cutting into her own palm. She unsummoned the sword and raised a palm out for all to see the red cut upon her palm.
“Any incorrection in my everyday body may be reconstructed by sacrificing Godcraft energy.” The men in the room watched and gawked at the gradual sight of her cut glowing a bit, and ultimately fixing itself as a result with every second. “Make no mistake though, I have only so much Godcraft energy per day, and the ability to repair wounds or illnesses is a costly investment…” she played off this statement by drooping a hand over her forehead and saying, “Saving myself from death has reduced today’s energy considerably…”
Napoleon grabbed her hands and urged, “Rest, Selina.”
But the ancient Egyptian looked down at the man with tired eyes and said, “I cannot. There is no way of me relaxing knowing that there are traitorous scum running about with heads still attached. At one time, long ago, there was such insurrections that would see me personally claiming the heads of many who dared reject Pharaoh.” Selina bowed to Napoleon. “I beg of you, General. Give me an order.”
The French general looked back at Louis and Roustam, then back to his loyal Godcraft servant. Several seconds went by with him mulling over everything going on in Cairo on this day, but his order for Selina was not an entirely unexpected one.
“I order you to lay down in bed and rest.”
The Godcraft’s eyes flashed open with a tremble, followed by a surprised grunt, and finalized by a fiercely frustrated glare to the floor.
“Is… that what you will have of your all-powerful Godcraft servant?”
Without hesitation, he repeated, “Go rest. I cannot risk losing you to this rebel garbage.”
She narrowed her eyes, “…I should remind you that my ‘death’ is, ultimately, inconsequential. But perhaps, like with many matters I speak, you were not paying attention.”
Napoleon stomped a foot, “I certainly hope that my all-powerful Godcraft servant will not make her master relay an order for a third time!”
His comment was accurately spoken, for a loyal Selina nodded and began to back herself in the direction of her assigned bedroom.
“I will not challenge your order, nor your wisdom. I will try and sleep… as my country suffers under the chokehold of rebel waste.”
Selina marched off, her eyes darkened with frustration, but her actions nevertheless perfectly loyal. Napoleon was not so sure of this however and would observe her direction all the way until he could assume she indeed retired to her room. With this said and done, the man turned around alongside Louis and Roustam, and looked out the window at the burning Cairo.
Napoleon could deny the obstacles of this campaign all he wanted, but this revolt was perhaps the final warning sign to leave while he still could. The Ottoman Empire wanted him out of Egypt, and now it was clear that the people of Egypt did as well. 
The final question to answer was whether this incident was enough for Napoleon to want out of Egypt…
To be continued…
Chapter 3 < | > Chapter 5
==Chapter Summary==
# The chapter starts with a flashback to ancient times, when Selina--then known as SAt-Wsjr--uncovers a conspiracy allegedly orchestrated by the Pharaoh's Treasurer to incite rebellion and brings the Treasurer before Pharaoh.
# The Treasurer being a dear friend of Pharaoh, the king is stricken by sudden paralyzing grief as SAt-Wsjr executes the man for treason. Practically paralyzed with grief, Pharaoh appoints SAt-Wsjr a temporary title of Inquisitor, permitting full authority over the Egyptian military and leaving her responsible with crushing the conspiracy.
# A wildly unmerciful and cruel leader, Selina's first order as Inquisitor is to ransack Egyptian homes in search of traitors, of whom she would have executed on the spot if suspected. The flashback concludes with the overall point that, once upon a time, when giving Selina such authority, she shows no mercy for traitors to Egypt, preferring instinct over investigation when it comes to deciding who to execute.
# Selina awakes months after being renamed to Selina and processes her life under Napoleon. She concludes that while life is better under him than back in the tomb, that she is discontent with his management of her Godcraft powers. She believes that someone of her power is not being used to her full potential, especially during wartime.
# Selina finds Napoleon in a fired up meeting with General Kleber and his brother Louis, irate over two letters they received. Napoleon explains to Selina that the first letter is from the Directory (Revolutionary Government) of France, stating that they can no longer guarantee the support of the Egyptian campaign due to the British blockade disallowing safe supply and reinforcement. The second letter is from the Ottoman Empire, recognizing the French situation, and thus demanding surrender of Egypt.
# Selina, infuriated by the Ottoman demand, pleads with Napoleon to let her travel to the Ottoman Empire and assassinate the Sultan. Napoleon rejects her request, noting the importance of protecting her from danger. Selina attempts to convince him otherwise but is interrupted. She is instead instructed to resume her French learning in her bedroom.
# Still furious with the Ottomans, but now also Napoleon's resistance to letting her take a direct role in the campaign, Selina takes to a balcony and calls upon her ancient gods to curse Egypt's enemies.
# In-sync with her cursing of Egypt's enemies, Napoleon and Louis find themselves out and about, when suddenly a revolt breaks out in Cairo. Quickly, it is discovered that this is not some isolated incident, but in fact the major city-wide revolt that some had warned was inevitable. Napoleon and Louis barely make it back to the palace alive, only to find Egyptian rebels closing in on that as well.
# Selina intervenes just in time as rebels flood into the palace. Summoning a magic sword from thin air as well as using her ability to create artistic tomb art outlines from fire, she strikes quickly and effectively against the rebels, burning most and slashing others.
# Selina becomes overwhelmed at the very end, sustaining a deep stab to her chest. She succeeds in defending the palace from rebels, but is essentially incapacitated as a consequence and left with heavy bleeding. Irate with this development, Napoleon takes off on a horse to avenge Selina and bring a cruel end to the revolt.
# Napoleon and cavalry take to the streets, decapitating rebels wherever they found them lurking. Following this, Napoleon tracked the source of the insurrection to the primary mosque in the city, and without hesitation ordered it to be shelled by artillery.
# Napoleon rides his horse into the mosque and nearly provokes a battle within the mosque, but the head clergyman of the mosque intervenes at the last second, admitting responsibility for the revolt and reluctantly agrees to call it off. Despite Napoleon's attempt to do damage control and use this incident to get the Islamic community on his side, the clergyman resists, only agreeing to call off the revolt. Napoleon comments that he does not need the prayers of Muslims, only their loyalty, which he claims he can enforce.
# Back at the palace, an excited Louis reveals to Napoleon that Selina not only survived her impossible wound, but even healed it to a point of perfect flesh. Selina reveals (reminds) Napoleon that one of her key Godcraft abilities allows her to heal wounds and illnesses, at a cost of Godcraft energy. She proves this by cutting into her palm and displaying this healing action.
# Despite everything she had done and proven, Selina is shocked and enraged to find Napoleon's final order being for Selina to retire to her bedroom and rest. Selina resists this order, insisting that she be sent out to destroy the revolt, but after a third repeat of his order, Selina is tamed and made to retire to her bedroom.
# With French losses stacking from this revolt and proof that the Egyptian people are not behind Napoleon's cause, the general now meditates on whether it is time to leave Egypt and return to France.
==Author Notes==
====Possible Ancient Conspiracy====
I intentionally left the initial flashback ambiguous as to whether Selina was truly serving the treasurer justice or if she was indeed working a conspiracy. Considering her loyalty was only to Pharaoh, it is very possible that she performed a conspiracy meant to purge Egypt of people she considers undesirable. Of course, it is just as likely that Selina acted honestly and simply saw a purge as the easiest way of securing stability for the realm. Either way, this scene was designed to be interpreted either way.
====Selina's Curse====
For a second time, I left it ambiguous as to whether Selina unintentionally provoked an uprising against Napoleon or if her prayers had no effect. As she went to her room and prayed that Egypt's enemies be destroyed, the insurgency erupted, potentially suggesting that her prayers pushed for the start of the rebellion. I had no canon intention one way or the other when making the chapter.
==Chapter Illustration==
This illustration depicts the moment Selina rushes in to save Napoleon and his companions, blasting the insurgents with Godcraft fire. This was the third time a chapter illustration used the new art style that started in Chapter 2, and would be the final time as the traditional style would return in Chapter 5. The background in this image is notably very simple, and a desire for more freedom with the background may have been a driving factor behind giving up on this new art style.
The image was prepared through a mixture of Adobe Photoshop and Adobe Illustrator.