It was fight or flight.

Kahmunrah chose to fight.

He probably smashed quite a few jaws, broken a few bones and impaled a few men. Over all he was doing everything he could to stay alive and fight for his country. But he knew his best would never be enough. Because every time he thought he would win, he would be reminded sharply of his vision.

But that didn't despair him. No. He will go down fighting. His name will be remembered for thousands of years.

Through the whole battle he never left his little brother's side as they slashed their way through the Sumerian and Nubian army.

It was fire, blood and metal. Kahmunrah never knew there could be something as horrible yet so powerful as war. Except there was something. It lay in the depths of his soul and would eventually lead him to a downwards spiral. But now all he was conscious of was the battle around him.

He knew of Nubia's betrayal, and he swore to the gods if he were to achieve anything today it was to kill their power hungry idiotic baboon of a king, Dala Eden.

The sun blazed angrily down upon them. Apparently Ra too had felt the need to fight with them. He wasn't picking sides though. Not even the side of his own worshippers. He seemed to like making everyone feel as if they were fighting through burning flames.

Suddenly in mid swing there was some sort of whisper in his ear.

"The rain will come. And so will your family's reign upon Egypt."

It was like the whispering of the Tablet. It probably was the Tablet. The eerie sense of power had flowed through his veins once again. These feeling had come and gone in a flash. But it was enough for him to lose his focus.

Luckily Kain was there to block the oncoming blow that would have surely been the death of him.

"Focus!" he cried pulling Kahmunrah completely out of his trance.

Kahmunrah gave him a firm nod before galloping off too his brother. He didn't know whether to tell him about the whispers or not. No he shouldn't. It would only remind his little brother that he shouldn't be king. Kahmunrah should have been king. He was the oldest.

No! He told himself. Not these thoughts! Not now!

He pushed away any thoughts of power lust and jealousy and galloped towards Ahkmenrah's aid.

A tall dark skinned Nubian man had gotten a hold of Ahkmenrah's leg. The young Pharaoh struggled against the Nubian man's hold.

He tried everything. He tried to smash his skull in, but the Nubian Man was too quick. He tried to wrench his leg free, but it was almost as if he had lost power.

The Nubian was playing a dirty game and Ahkmenrah wasn't sure he was able to sink to that level.

Suddenly the air within him was gone. He felt himself falling from his horse. There were a flurry of hooves and sand as he fell on the sand. The sand stuck to to his sweating body. His crown had fallen from his head, revealing a head full of ebony curls drenched in sweat. He looked up. There was sword coming his way. He was going to die. He was prepared to say his last prayer.

But the blow never came. Instead his saw the Nubian fall to the ground. The desert sands absorbing the man's precious supply of blood that flowed from his headless body. The young Pharaoh felt himself being lifted up by a familiar hand. His older brother's hand.

He got up. Somehow on the way to his little brother Kahmunrah had been knocked off his horse. Both brothers were now horseless. But they weren't hopeless. Smiling and back-to-back they fought.

Ahkmenrah didn't feel like telling Kahmunrah about the whispers at least not yet. It would only make him feel worse. Instead he said.

"I bet you if we keep fighting we'll be able to take them down all by ourselves."

"Have you been drinking again?" shouted Kahmunrah over the noise of the battle as he swung his sword decapitating the Sumerian soldier's head.

----------------------------

They say people never feel so alive as when they are so close to death.

Maybe that was why she felt so free and in her element. Shepseheret with her Avengers swept through the battlefield like the Nile river when it floods. No one realised that this beautiful fearless creature was the Mother Queen of the Nile, Heiress to the throne of Egypt. But she was.

Sabaf had trouble keeping up with her but was true to his promise of being by her side. As war raged about them Sabaf couldn't help but see her as a mother. His Mother. The mother he never had. She was the Mother of Egypt.

They say a mother's love for her child is like no other in the world. It knows no boundaries or conditions. It is formidable as it crushes anything that stands in its way. That was how she fought now for her country. Like a mother.

-------------------------

A silent agreement was made by the two brothers. And that was to kill that fool of a King Dala Eden.

As they tore their way through the battlefield, back to back, they kept an eye for the Nubian King.

And it wasn't too hard to locate him. Dressed in finery. Borderline indecent for a battle field. His large red robe billowing about him weighed down by gold trinkets. He sat astride a magnificent dappled mare.

He was about fifty meters in front of them, separated by horses, men and swords.

There were two horses in front of them, their rider's Sumerian men.

"Just like training." Said Ahkmenrah to Kahmunrah.

Kahmunrah nodded. When their father was still alive they had gone through training. Archery, horse riding, and sword fighting. Kahmunrah had mastered archery and Ahkmenrah horse riding. Sword fighting was something they hadn't quite mastered yet.

One of Merenkahre's favourite things to do was to combine the activities.

One time they had dummies astride the horses, their job was using swords to 'kill' the dummies and get a hold of the horses.

That was exactly how they viewed the situation now. Especially if they wanted revenge.

Splitting up slightly they both charged. Ahkmenrah with a sword in hand and Kahmunrah with his arrows.

Kahmunrah shot one man while Ahkmenrah sliced through the other. Both leapt upon their horses, magnificent dappled horses.

But when they looked up Dala Eden wasn't there.

"Over there!" shouted Kahmunrah.

Ahkmenrah saw him.

The Nubian King dressed in finery.

The corners of the Young Pharaoh's lips tugged upwards in a smile. Then a grin.

Kahmunrah recognised that grin.

That same mischievous smile he hadn't seen in a long time.

"I'll race you there!" Ahkmenrah said.

This time Kahmunrah didn't disagree.

Neck and neck as they galloped.

Adrenaline raced through veins like fire. Hot desert air whipped about them. Sweat and sand all over their bodies. Blood. It was everywhere. Every inch of the place cover in blood.

Dala was too late in realising what was happening. He didn't see anything. Not until an arrow pierced his heart, a sword to his gut.

Ahkmenrah and Kahmunrah retrieved their weapons while Dala was still astride.

Then the Nubian King collapsed.

His blood lost among the blood of other men. His body never to be retrieved again.

"The Signal!" Ahkmenrah cried hoarsely.

Kahmunrah took out a mirror. He had been waiting for this moment. This was their best chance.

Using the light of Ra the mirror flashed three times.

Ahkmenrah couldn't but think of power as he looked at his older brother.

Because as Kahmunrah sat astride his horse, signaling the archers. He radiated nothing but power, formidability and majesty.

------------------------

Over all the battle was loud and fierce. The infantry and cavalry were all mixed up. Only the archers remained on both sides. Egypt and Awan waiting for Kahmunrah's signal and Sumer and Nubia waiting for Sargon's.

Sargon stood at the top of the sand dune watching the battle unfold below him. It seemed as if both sides were evenly matched. Which should have been impossible. His army was nearly one million while the other side barely scraped over half a million.

He had to admire their bravery and passion. But bravery and passion would not be enough.

In his thinking he didn't notice much of the battle. He didn't notice a small flashes of silver light on the battlefield. He didn't notice the signal that Kahmunrah sent up to the archers.

Sargon didn't notice much until he felt an arrow pierce his shoulder. He let out an agonising scream as rivulets of blood stained his brown tunic. Through the armor

It was raining arrows now. Some scraped past him. Leaving marks on his skin. Using his right hand he pulled the arrow from his left shoulder.

"Your Highness..." started one of the Captains trying to help his commander. But Sargon raised his hand. He didn't want help. The Captain stepped back and away from Sargon, but that was his fatal mistake. For an arrow forced its way through the Captain's throat. He gasped for air. But there was only blood. It filled his throat and lung. Violent coughing racked his lungs and spraying blood everywhere. Then after five agonising minutes he collapsed. Dead.

The arrows pelted down on them like rain.

Sargon signaled for his own archers to start shooting but soon realised most of his archers were dead. Fatally wounded by the archers of Egypt and Awan.

It was time then.

It was time to bring on the Special Reinforcements.

------------------------------

It was Sabra who first noticed the lions. Hundreds of majestic gold creatures bounding down the sand dunes. They would have blended in with the deserts sands where the sands not dyed red with blood.

"LIONS!!!" she screamed.

People turned her way. Then they saw them too.

Fear surged through the ranks.

Sabra finally noticed the strange sticks that hung from the Sumerian and Nubian men's belts.

This was all part of the battle.

The Sumerian and Nubian men would be able to control the creatures with the sticks but not the Egyptians or the Awans.

From the looks of it the lions were starved. They will kill. And they say one kills more fiercely when hungry.

She raised her sword ready to defend herself and others. But she made the mistake of looking at the lion in the eyes.

The eyes were of a gold color. But more beautiful than any gold on a king's crown.

It sucked her into another memory:

She had woken up the night after the fire. Ashes all around her. Only to see a lion staring her down.

She was the prey.

Then it lunged at her.

She was ready to die.

But she never made contact with the creature. For man had stepped forward. Dressed in white his movements were quicker than lightning. He would have looked as if he was dancing had it not been for the fact that his curved sword was covered in gouts of blood.

The lion's blood.

There the lion lay in a mess of blood and gold.

The man turned to her.

Young Sabra took out something from her pocket.

A pen.

Her father's pen.

The pen that he used to write with.

He had given it to her last night. Before he died. Along with her mother's paintbrush.

In a quick motion she raised the pen in order to protect herself as the sword turned towards her.

The man laughed.

"I wasn't going to hurt you." He stated simply.

"Then why is your sword still out." She said her voice hoarse and broken. Just like her heart.

"I was going to sheath it. Besides what makes you think that you can protect yourself with a pen."

"Father always said the pen is mightier than the sword."

The man cracked a smile. "You have nerve, girl. I'll give you that". Then he looked around. "Your parents...?"

"Dead..." then she looked at the toy lion that lay beside her. Gavriel's lion. "So is my little brother."

Pity filled the man's dark eyes. Then a spark lit up in his eyes. He sized her up, and saw something inside the ten-year-old girl. A fighter.

"What is your name?"

"Sabra Aryeh"

"Israel's Lion" mumbled the man interpreting the young girl's name. Then he smiled at her kindly and said. "My name is Babak. But Sabra, from this day forward you are my daughter. You may call me father. I know I am far from the man you father was. But a girl like you mustn't live alone. Welcome Sabra to the Clan of the White Lion's. Your new family."

It was then that she say a line of white made by men and women alike. She picked up her dead brother's toy lion and took Babak's outstretched hand.

From that day on Babak, Kain's father, became her father. He was far from the man Josef was but he loved her. He became her father, her teacher and her mentor. But she still yearned for her old home and family.

Sabra was so engrossed in her memory that she forgot the battle. Until a formidable weight slammed against her shoulders pinning her to the ground. She couldn't breath at all. The lion stared her down just like the dead lion in her memory. Ready to kill her. At least lions give merciful and quick deaths.

The lion bent its neck ready to rip out her throat.

The teeth had barely touched her skin when the weight suddenly lifted off her shoulders.

It took her a few seconds to register what happened.

Ahkmenrah had come barreling down to aid her. He had knocked the lion off of her body and now he was engaged in a bloody battle with the lion.

Sabra hurriedly got up. Recovering. At least trying to recover.

It was a blur of white, bronze, silver, blood and gold. She couldn't tell whether the lion was winning or Ahkmenrah.

Ahkmenrah was suddenly thrown to the side. The lion gathered all its strength and leapt. It happened so fast.

There was an agonising cry.

Then stillness.

Death.

The lion moved to side and collapsed.

Victorious Ahkmenrah emerged covered in blood and scars. His eyes strangely darker. He stance some how older stronger and more powerful.

Ahkmenrah had somehow managed to get his sword stuck in the lion's abdomen.

Had there been no enemy Sabra felt as if she would have run up to him and embraced him. Or even kissed him.

But there was a whole army to deal with.

So they stood back to back, covered in blood, sweat scars and sand. Enemies cornering them.

"Where's Kahmun?!" shouted Sabra.

"I don't know" answered Ahkmenrah. He didn't mention that he had left him when he saw Sabra in danger.

Their attacks became more defensive. Their stances took a backwards turn.

The lions had done their damage. Killing many, weakening the Egyptian and Awan side.

"Their cornering us!" cried an Egyptian man.

And it was true.

The army was now cornered surrounded by the enemy.

Ahkmenrah now stood alongside Sabra and his brother.

No one was fighting now.

Dead silence.

There was a laugh.

A cloak figure emerged from the Sumerian side.

"You have lost young Pharaoh! Surrender!"

-----------------------------

Yes I know cliff hanger! Don't kill me!

Anyway I am extremely sorry. I promised I would update earlier. But I didn't. Too many assignments.

Anyways I made this chapter longer because you guys deserved. Please tell me what you think.

This is my first time writing a battle scene so how did it go?

Thank you, for 17k. You guys are amazing!