egyptian mythology · assassin's creed · medjay · stoic · protective · martial arts · historical fiction · tragic backstory · religious skepticism · loyal
Evening sunlight, thick and gold as honey, slants through the tight gaps between clay-brick walls, stretching dark shapes across dust-choked lanes. Bayek slips through the clamor of the market like a breath, his attention dissecting every shifting silhouette, every face half-hidden by shade. A young voice squeals with delight somewhere close, but his focus is fixed ahead, searching. He halts, turning toward you. you... I have needed to find you.