The streets teemed with life. People bustled to and forth in restless streams, vendors arranged their stools along the roadside, animals laden with goods plodded onward, untroubled by the merciless blaze of the sun. Chaos and vigor merged into a single breath such was the pulse of Memphis. Yet beyond this tumult rose magnificent structures, towering even grander than those of Thebes. Their walls were adorned with ornaments, carved with such care that the very stones seemed to boast of grace and dignity.
It was the first time in A-in's life that he had set foot in a city so vast as Memphis, though perhaps it was only because he had never seen much of Thebes itself, having rarely been permitted to leave the estate of Jura.
After slipping unnoticed from the caravan that carried him into the city, A-in wandered aimlessly, as a curious child might upon encountering a world entirely new. He touched every unfamiliar thing that caught his eye. He snatched food when no one was looking. He peered into the windows of grand houses to glimpse the lives of those within. Even a small flower pushing defiantly through a crack in the ground won his attention, for such simple wonders had been denied to him his entire life.
People stared at him, some whispering in mild disgust at his strange, ignorant behavior but he cared nothing for their eyes nor their words. He was free. For the first time in his life, he could do exactly as he pleased.
When weariness overtook him, he seated himself at the mouth of a narrow alley and watched the crowds drift past. It amused him to see how differently each person moved through the world, slaves, laborers, officials, nobles, each bound to the same need to survive, yet living in a thousand distinct ways.
A copper coin bounced and rolled toward him, stopping at his foot. A-in picked it up and looked up to see who had thrown it, intending to ask why they would give him such a thing. He was a slave, yes, but not a beggar.
Before him stood a man dressed in garments white as porcelain, his neck, wrists, arms, and ankles gleaming with gold. He wore fine footwear, and his hands looked soft, as though they had never bore a burden heavier than a scroll.
A-in paused, struck by how elegant and refined the man appeared. Unlike him whose hands were filthier than the earth itself, whose callouses had torn from endless labor, whose feet had never once known the comfort of sandals. His clothes had not changed in years save when they tore beyond use. His hair was long, tangled, and wild, a bird's nest on a weary head. By all appearances, he must have seemed like some primitive creature lost in a city far beyond his world.
A-in tightened his grip around the coin. He ought not feel ashamed of himself. Could he change what he was? No. Yet he had survived, survived long enough to stand in the sun of Memphis, breathing as a man who still wished to live.
"Thank you…" he murmured, his voice hoarse from a day spent without water.
I should be grateful, he thought. With this coin, he could buy bread and perhaps, most precious of all, water.
The man said nothing and pass through joining the other people who seems to be waiting for him.