To The Land of The Pyramids

“It’s been a while since I last told you anything… hasn’t it, Sora? Do you still remember me—your brother? I wish you hadn’t…

One of the guards told me you came a week before my release, waiting for me… hoping we could live together again, like a family. I dreamed of that too. But dreams are cruel, aren’t they?

You know I’m not guilty. Yet to the world, I am nothing but a lunatic—a psychopath with a twisted past, accused of doing unspeakable things to his own family and to innocent people. To them, I will always be the one who violated his own mother. And if you live with me, they will not see you as Sora—they will only see you as the sister of a monster, and they will chain you to my curse. I can’t bear the thought of you suffering because of me.

As much as I want to stay with you, I cannot face those eyes again. I just want to disappear from everyone’s sight and bury my past. But maybe I am too weak—too weak even to move on, too weak to accept what has already happened. Perhaps it is a curse that will haunt me for the rest of my life.

So I’ve decided. I won’t return. I have left the country, and I never plan to come back. I don’t have a place to call home anymore; I am just drifting, letting the waves carry me to places where no one knows my name.

Forget me, Sora. Pretend you never had a brother. Erase me from your heart, and live the bright life you deserve. If you can do that, maybe—just maybe—I will find a fragment of peace.

Forgive me. Forget me. And be happy, no matter what.

Your brother,
Shams”

As she finished reading the letter, Sora’s tears kept falling onto it. Her constant crying had soaked the paper. She clutched the letter to her chest and whispered, “Why now? After all this time? Being with you… that’s what could have made me happy… Onichan…”

She just kept crying. All she could do was that.

“Sorry, Onichan… but I can’t forget about you…” she muttered to herself, letting out a loud, anguished cry, knowing this was probably the last time she would ever hear from her brother.

She stood up from the floor, walked over to her bed, and collapsed onto it. She couldn’t bear the grief any longer. Sleep claimed her soon after.

When she woke, it was past eight o’clock at night. She remained silent for a moment, noticing the crumpled letter beside her bed.

So, it wasn’t a dream…

She looked through her window and saw no moon in the sky, as if the world had lost its light just like she had lost her beacon of life. Sighing heavily, she got up from the bed, took the letter, and placed it between her books on the table, leaving part of it still visible.

She then walked downstairs to the bathroom, taking a bath to wash away the exhaustion from her body and mind.

“Sora, are you awake? Dinner is ready,” she heard while bathing.

“Yeah, I’m taking my bath!” she shouted back.

Afterward, she went upstairs to get dressed. When she returned to her table, she noticed it was a bit messy, so she began arranging her books, notes, and other belongings. As she put the books in place, the letter slipped out from between the pages and fell into the trash bin beside the table—unnoticed by her.

She then went downstairs for dinner. In the dining room, Aiko Aunty and her husband were already seated, waiting for her.

As she entered, she waved at her uncle. “Oh, Uncle, when did you get back from the office?”

He gave a small smile. “Just a little while ago, while you were asleep.”

“Oh…”

“Anyway… come, sit here. Let’s enjoy dinner together.”

She took the chair and sat down.
Her aunt and uncle were cracking jokes and laughing among themselves, but Sora was lost in thought. Her face carried a gloomy shadow of uncertainty, as if she had become oblivious to her surroundings.

Then Aiko Auntie’s voice cut through her silence.
“Sora? Are you okay?”

She flinched slightly.
“Yeah, yeah… I’m fine,” she said, continuing to eat her food.

Aiko Auntie looked at her directly.
“Don’t mind me asking… but why were you crying so loudly before? I didn’t interrupt you… it seemed like you were finally letting something out that you’d been holding inside all this time.”

Sora looked at her face, calm.
“No, it’s nothing…” she said, and kept eating.

There was a moment of silence, awkward, heavy. But her uncle broke it.

“Okay, enough of the heavy talk. Let’s ask Sora about her field trip. So—where are you guys going this year for your annual study tour?”

“We’re going abroad this year,” Sora said. “We’re going to Egypt, to explore the pyramids.”

“What—Egypt?!” her uncle and aunt exclaimed in unison.

“Yeah, Egypt.”

“But you’re still not fully adults. Aren’t the parents going with you?”

“They can if they want,” Sora shrugged, “but it’s not like we’re little kids anymore.”

Aiko Auntie’s expression grew tense. She looked into Sora’s eyes with concern and said in a worried tone,
“One of us can go with you, Sora. Either your uncle or I. You shouldn’t be going there alone.”

“No, really, there’s no need,” Sora said firmly. “We’ll be divided into teams of five students, so there’s nothing much to worry about. Besides, each team will have its own guide.”

“…If you say so…” Aiko Auntie muttered, still sounding hesitant.

“So, when are you going?” her uncle asked.

“We’re leaving the week after next.” Sora finished her meal, pushed back her chair, and left the dining room.

“Will she really be okay? Don’t you think she’s going through something?” Aiko asked her husband, worry etched into her face.

“You always worry too much, Aiko,” her husband replied, sipping his water. “Sora’s a young adult now. I think she can handle herself. And besides, the facilities Legacy provides are top notch.”

“…No. It’s just—Sora completely changed after he left, without even seeing her one last time,” Aiko said, her voice trembling with unease, a shadow of fear flickering across her expression.


Eastside International Airport

“Okay, students, it seems like everyone is here. As you all know, today we are departing to Egypt. Since we are flying on Legacy’s private planes, the flight will take nearly eleven hours. When we arrive, don’t rush—exit the planes calmly, divide into your teams of five as your teachers have assigned, and line up. Indiscipline will not be tolerated. Is that clear?” said the Chief Advisor of the Legacy Education Board.

Everyone murmured in agreement.

“Good. Now get ready. Our planes will take off in just thirty minutes. Planes A, B, and C are for the students, and Plane D is for the teachers and guardians.”

When it was almost time to take off, students from every branch began to board their assigned planes—A, B, and C. Sora, however, felt lost in the crowd. She couldn’t remember which plane was hers.

“Sora! Sora! Here! Ours is Plane A!” someone called out.

She turned and saw Yuri waving frantically. Relief washed over her, and she waved back as she hurried toward her.

“Hey, Sora! Where have you been? We were looking for you everywhere. We thought you had boarded the wrong plane,” Yuri said, slightly out of breath.

“Oh… sorry. I went to use the restroom, and when I came back, I saw everyone heading to board. But somehow I forgot which one was ours,” Sora said, laughing nervously, trying to shake off the embarrassment.

Yuri chuckled. “Well, at least you found us in time. Come on, let’s get on before they close the doors.”

Sora then boarded the plane for the first time in her life. She had never flown before, and for as long as she could remember, she had always been curious about planes. To her surprise, the interior was almost exactly how she had imagined.

Rows of neat seats lined up, each with the Legacy logo embroidered on the headrest. She found her place by the window and slipped her bag beneath it. Around her, students filled the cabin—some chatting excitedly, some leaning back with their eyes already closed, and others fiddling nervously with their belongings.

Soon, the engines roared and the plane lifted into the sky. Sora’s heart raced as she pressed her forehead lightly against the cool glass. Outside, clouds drifted lazily beneath them, glowing in shades of white and gold under the afternoon sun.

She kept staring, her fake smile finally fading. For the first time that day, her expression softened into something real, something quiet.

Hours went by. Flight attendants moved up and down the aisles, offering snacks and water. Some students had dozed off, others whispered quietly to their friends. The sky shifted from bright blue to a warm orange, long shadows stretching across the sea of clouds.

Finally, the pilot’s announcement came, and the plane began its slow descent. The students straightened in their seats. When the cabin doors finally opened, a rush of hot, dry desert air swept inside.

As Sora stepped out, she squinted against the blazing sun. All around her, students whispered in awe. Egypt had finally unfolded before their eyes.

“So this is the land of pyramids…” Sora murmured to herself.

Everyone began to form in a team of five students and line up. Sora stood there confused for a moment, not knowing where her team was. She looked around quickly, trying to find someone she knew.

Then she finally saw Yuri and rushed over.
“Hey, Yuri. Here you are,” Sora said, slightly out of breath.

“Sora, let’s get in line before they scold us,” Yuri replied firmly.

Nodding, Sora joined her side. Together with Yuri and the other three members of their team, they stood in formation, ready to begin their first steps in Egypt.

Then the chief advisor went in front of the lines.
“Okay. Seems like you are very disciplined. Very good. Now all you need to do is get on any of the buses waiting for us outside the airport. They will take you to the place you will be staying for the next 20 days. Go in with your team members. It’s almost evening, so we will talk tomorrow morning. For now, just take rest tonight.”

Then all of them got into the buses with their team members and headed to the hotel they would be staying in.

The bus kept moving, students talking, laughing, some even singing. Everyone was excited except Sora. She looked through the bus window and saw date trees passing by. Then she looked up at the sky, full of stars and a big moon. Except—she had lost her moon.