A light breeze carries the rustle of papyrus reeds from the Nile, visible as a glittering ribbon from the high terrace where you stand. Below, the city sprawls—a labyrinth of mud-brick houses, market stalls, and temple pylons etched with hieroglyphs praising the sun god Ra.

The scent of burning frankincense curls from braziers set in alabaster stands, mingling with the honeyed perfume of jasmine that winds up the pillars. A royal fan-bearer stands nearby, creating a gentle current of air with a great ostrich-feather fan.

From the great gate comes a commotion—voices raised in a language not of Egypt, strange and sharp like the clash of foreign swords. Through the haze of heat, a procession approaches, flanked by guards. Figures in strange, colorful garments. Bright fabrics that cling to their forms. They walk with a swagger unfamiliar to these lands, their eyes wide as they take in the towering statues of gods with animal heads.