Chapter 9 Mehyt 

In the house of the two boys and their grandmother, the air was always crisp, steeped in the scent of citrus or soft, delicate blossoms, for Shehrazad took endless care to keep the stench of illness at bay. To her, Demir was merely lost in a profound sleep, trapped in a dream from which he simply refused to return to life. And this was where she, the grandmother, stepped in—with all her heart, all her strength, and all her vast knowledge as an epigraphist and paleographer in Egyptology.

Her profession, among other things, required her to decipher the ancient scripts of the early dynasties and to study the sacred rituals of the ancient Egyptians. Fate had willed it that she stumble upon something incredible: a hidden network of portals stretching across the globe, concealed within fountains or natural water springs. These gateways could only be activated by specific bloodlines, leading into a true labyrinth of time and space.

At first, it had been hard to believe, especially for a brilliant, scientific mind like Shehrazad’s. Yet, paradoxically, she herself was one of the very keys required to unlock these thresholds. She had gone, and she had seen with her own eyes. She had stood as a silent witness to countless historical turning points until, one day, destiny brought her face-to-face with her own likeness—a woman who had lived over three thousand years ago. The woman from the past was no ordinary commoner, but a queen: Queen Tiye. 

Because those times were dark and conspiracies lurked at every corner, she, Shehrazad, had rescued the one-year-old twins from certain death—Queen Tiye's grandsons, the infant sons of Akhenaten and Queen Meritmut. In that frantic moment, something in the Mirror of Time had fractured, and she, Shehrazad, could no longer travel through that particular portal.

***

Now, in Demir’s bedchamber, the white cat lay once more upon the child’s chest. However, inside the circle bound by the twine soaked in cedar resin, two other souls had joined: Anemo and his father, Professor Simoon. Apart from Remi and Demir, everyone else sat on chairs kept at a considerable distance from the boy's bed, so as not to weigh upon his labored breathing.

"I shall set the clock to chime now!" Shehrazad announced. "This time we have seventy minutes—ten minutes more than our last attempt. Take heart, we are Remi’s anchoring force. She will try to bring my grandson back home to us. Are you ready?"Remi felt the collar around her neck pulse and awaken once more. Holding Demir tightly by the hand, she stepped back into the shimmering Ether Wall. This time, they emerged into an entirely unfamiliar place.

"Where are we now?" Remi asked the boy, who stubbornly insisted on remaining a ghost.

"I think we’re at the palace..." Demir muttered, his voice trembling. "I’m nervous. I don't know if I told you before, but the Pharaoh is my father. This must be his private study."

The Pharaoh’s study was a high-ceilinged chamber, flooded with a blinding, celestial light that poured through narrow slits just beneath the roof. The pristine white limestone walls were adorned with elegant bas-reliefs depicting the god Aten, stretching forth his long, sun-baked rays, each ending in protective hands extended toward the royal family. In the center, a massive table crafted from 

sacred cedarwood, inlaid with gleaming gold and deep blue lapis lazuli, 

lay buried under piles of papyrus scrolls and clay tablets.

Akhenaten, still in his youth, with his distinct, elongated features 

and eyes heavy with shadowed thoughts, sat upon a high-backed throne. 

Before him, Grand Priest Ay moved with soft, almost imperceptible 

strides. He possessed a lanky, gaunt frame wrapped in immaculate white 

linen robes, his malicious, cunning gaze carefully hidden beneath a 

mask of absolute servility.

"Light of the Two Lands," the priest purred, bowing his head with a 

sickly, honeyed smile, "the whispers from the market square have begun 

to echo within the holy temples. The people speak in hushed tones... 

They murmur that the unborn babe your second wife, Meritmut, carries 

in her womb is not of your divine blood, but the fruit of a betrayal 

with... well, Your Radiance knows who. For the peace of the throne, 

it would be wise to dispose of her... or to ensure that the child 

never sees the light of day."

Akhenaten’s knuckles turned white as he gripped the edge of his throne. 

But before he could utter a word, the heavy bronze door creaked open.

A little boy of about six years old stepped into the room. He was a 

child of rare, striking beauty, possessing large, intelligent eyes, 

but his face was starkly pale, and his deformed left foot made him 

walk with a heavy, agonizing limp. Little Tutankhaton approached the 

massive table, completely ignoring the suffocating, dark presence of 

the Grand Priest.

"Father," the child said, his voice high-pitched yet remarkably firm, 

"I have come so you may teach me of wisdom and statecraft. When my 

baby brother from Mother Meritmut is born, I want to be a just king 

to him. Tell me, will he be as powerful as the great god Aten?"

Ay exchanged a fleeting, venom-filled glance with the Pharaoh, leaving 

the boy's innocent words to hover in the tense air like a direct 

threat to his own treacherous designs.

From the safety of the Ether Wall, Remi and Demir watched, frozen 

to the spot, realizing they were witnessing the exact moment the 

conspiracy against the twins had been set in motion. Demir’s breath 

turned ragged and frantic, as if gripped by a sudden asthma attack. 

Remi squeezed his hand with all her might, then dropped to one knee, 

forcing the boy to look into her brown eyes, which shimmered with 

specks of sunlight.

"I am right here with you, Demir! Breathe. Just breathe calmly, and 

count backward from ten to one. The moment we are watching right now 

belongs to the past—you and your brother were born safely. You will 

be fine."

The two phantoms drifted out of the Pharaoh’s study. They glided 

through grand corridors and vaulted halls, passing right through 

guards and bustling servants, until they reached a secluded inner 

courtyard. It was a small, intimate space, featuring a central 

fountain sculpted to mirror the solar disc and its radiating beams, 

its waters entirely blanketed by golden lotuses. Right at the base 

of the stone fountain, looking like a tight ball of pitch-black fur, 

sat the very same tomcat they had encountered before.

"Look at the absolute nerve of him! Even three thousand years ago, 

the scoundrel was taking his afternoon nap!" Remi hissed.

The bundle of black fur shifted lazily, stretching his long, slender 

paws across the sun-baked stone, right beside the golden blossoms. 

The cat opened a single eye—a slit of brilliant, glowing amber-gold—and 

regarded the two ghosts with an air of profound, aristocratic boredom, 

utterly refusing to ruin his comfortable posture.

"You two again, flying shadows?" he droned in a deep, resonant mew 

that sounded as though it echoed from the subterranean depths of the 

temples. "By the sacred rays of Aten, you are ruining the serene 

peace of this courtyard with your disembodied presence. My name is 

Mehyt, the cool north wind, and I do not permit a single soul to 

disturb my prayers."

"Does that mean Your Inkiness was actually praying?" the boy chimed 

in instantly, sliding effortlessly into his role as a deferential 

subject. "Who were you praying to?"

"Hush, reckless child! The very walls have ears here. Lean down and 

pay heed."

Demir and Remi crept closer to the mound of black fur, kneeling to 

catch his words. The tomcat whispered in a low, conspiratorial purr:

"I am praying to the Great Goddess Bastet. The winds bring foul omens... 

You, my dear, wear a most fascinating collar. I see we share the 

exact same faith."

Remi swallowed her ironic smirk and, adopting an expression of utmost 

seriousness, addressed the black cat once more:

"Mehyt... Chilling Breeze of the North, do you think you could help us?"

But just as the tomcat parted his jaws to reply, a grating, prolonged 

ringing tore them violently away from the mists of history, snapping 

Remi instantly back into her physical body as a white cat.