Egypt 69BC

The heat is unbearable as I fight the sweat that breaks all over my body. I open my eyes slowly as the daylight peeks through the slits in my sleeping quarters. I sight, I'm still a commoner.

My back is stiff, and sweat trickles down my spine as I stretch and get up from the floor. Sleeping on this mat is the same as nothing, but I must be thankful I have a mat to sleep on. And wealthy or not, I'm still me, I'm alive, and today is another day.

I pray and sought divine guidance and protection from Isis, the goddess of magic, healing, and fertility. And to purify the body and these thoughts, I cleanse myself using a combination of water and natron (a natural mineral salt). The smell is pungy, and the coolness washes away my worries.

As I dress in my linen tunic, a loose-fitting garment that is light and breathable, and wrap my shendyt around my waist, I close my eyes and imagine I'm someone else entirely.

In my dream, I'm wearing a Kalarisis instead. A long, sleeveless, and pleated linen brightly colored gown. My head is crowned by a uraeus headdress and is adorned with jewels, and my eyes see the city from above. But the style and quality of clothing depend on a person's social standing, and my standing is very low, so I cannot choose.

I open my eyes to the reality of me and the others in my quarters; Those who do what we are told to do. Like a swarm of ants, after the rituals of our bath and dressing, everyone sits together to break bread and eat breakfast, a simple affair.

A few types of fruits, vegetables, and, if we are lucky, some cheese or honey are swollen with the help of beer. Because of the water's poor quality, fermented beverages are considered safer to drink. I don't drink anything, and my mouth is dry. I do that as an act of resistance. Deep down, I think they offer it to us so we are half-drunk when spending the day feeding the city's opulence. This way is easier to go by as numb as possible through life.

Numbness blinds us, and I want to be awake.

Bloated from so many carbohydrates, I head to the fields preparing for the day ahead. I cross paths with artisans walking by and going to their workshops and can't help but dream about what they will create and the places they'll go. Further than me.

It's saddening to think we are crossing the same physical path, and yet spiritually and circumstantially, the conditions for both of us are so different. I wish there was a way to live in a time and place where I could decide who I was going to be. Somewhere I could fight to change instead of accepting what had been sewn in my destiny with lineage by the unfair hands of birth.

But even for the wealthy, life in ancient Egypt is not without its challenges. Everyone knows political turmoil simmers beneath the polite smiles and fake attitudes of the rich, threatening the stability of the kingdom. Rumors of unrest are being spoken and spread like wildfire through the city streets, and whispers of rebellion echoed through the commoners.

And just before getting to the fields, I heard the tremors of change that shook Alexandria to its core. Fear invaded my body and gripped my heart, stiffening my legs. I closed my eyes, breathing intensely as the memories of the riots that took my parents away screened inside my brain. Unwanted snapshots of my tiny hands unclasping my mother's, hearing her screams calling my name, the fires, and the heat, and then nothing.

I knew I had to move to save myself. I knew I had to brush those thoughts away, this couldn't be my fate as well. There needed to be more to life than this. The sound was deafening as riots erupted, tearing through the city like a tempest.

I covered my ears and asked Isis for guidance, quietening the noise outside and inside my head and listening to her speak through my heart. I didn't think twice, pumping blood through my legs and running to a hidden temple, where I sought refuge, praying for my future.

Breathless, I crouched beneath the stones, my body sweating through all the pores and my heart thumping loud in my ears. As I calmed down, I heard intense breathing coming from below. A man was lying on the floor, his long silk tunic soaked in blood as he winced in pain.

He instinctively retreated as I approached him, but I moved forward. A heavy silence fell between us as the world crumbled to pieces outside.

"My name is Ptolemy, and you are?" His voice was deep and gentle amongst the chaos.

"Merit," my voice came out as a whisper, embarrassed to be speaking to someone in such high regard (as I could tell by his clothes and name). He clenched his teeth and looked down at his leg. Quietly, I came closer and removed my Shendyt, wrapping it as a tourniquet around his wound.

A turmoil of feelings erupted as we waited for the outside world to calm down. Inside that sanctuary, we spent hours discussing philosophy, art, and the mysteries of life. In his company, I found someone I didn't even know I was looking for. I started to notice that each moment in my presence was an awakening of his spirit, which had been trapped in norms for so long.

But I knew as soon as outside was over, inside would be too.

In the sanctuary, there were two of us and our own rules. Outside in the real world, there were others, and our society was structured in a way that preserved a strict separation between different classes.

Inside we were just Ptolemy and Merit, but outside, he was an intellectual and educated individual, who would typically marry within his own social circle. And I was a mere commoner.

But this was love. Hidden in our temple, days turned into weeks and weeks into months as the upheaval refused to cease. Inside, we told each other stories of who we were and who we wanted to be. Inside that temple, we cooked and made love, we laughed, and we cried. Until it was over.

Outside the war was over.

The Egyptian people emerged from the shadows, rebuilding our city.

Inside, Ptolemy asked me to marry him.

We emerged from our own shadows of societal norms and rules that trapped us, rebuilding ourselves and our beliefs.

***