Disbelief Papyrus Novels & Stories

“I don’t know Beta. I honestly don’t. It doesn’t really make sense.” “What do you mean?” “Well… first off, this text was written by Elder Cesarion, who was… more than a bit of a drunkard. If he was alive now, he would be considered a full-blown alcoholic. As far as we know he didn’t live very long after Alexandria fell, and the texts that describe that detail that his skin, eyes, and what not were yellow. We have other texts that he wrote that don’t make sense, that contradict other Elders of the time, texts that have no real context. Those of us in the library take his writings with a grain of salt, there might be some truth to this but I doubt it’s a substantial amount. In my opinion, for

"For the museum." "Ah." The woman's expression brightened with recognition. "You must be from the Metropolitan Museum of Ancient Arts. We get several of your researchers in here. Dr. Hassan was just asking about similar materials last month." Shantali's pulse quickened. "Dr. Hassan?" "Egyptologist on your staff, I believe. Lovely woman, very thorough in her research. She was particularly interested in the Ka-Wadjet prophecies." The librarian pulled up a catalog entry. "Here we are—I can get you started with Blackwood's *Ritual Smoke Practices of the Late Period* and Mahmoud's translation of the *Papyrus of the Serpent's Breath*. Fair warning though, some of the source material suggests these

"This is a fabrication, another attempt to discredit Maya and deflect attention from the evidence we found today." "Is it?" Marcus reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a plastic evidence bag containing a folded piece of paper yellowed with age. "I had this stored in my personal vault, kept as evidence in case Maya ever returned to cause trouble. The handwriting experts confirmed it matches her juvenile writing style. The paper dates to the correct time period. The content is... quite disturbing."

“Seraphina, are you absolutely sure it wasn’t planted? Something to make you turn against Lucien?” I glared at him, anger flaring. “Of course, I considered that, Derek! But the journals are centuries old. The handwriting, the ink—it’s authentic. This isn’t some recent forgery.” Lucas’s jaw tightened. “Why didn’t you tell me this sooner?” “Because I wasn’t sure who to trust!” I snapped. “And now you’re standing there questioning me like I’m insane. Do you know how hard it was to come to you with this?”

“She ordered them to be educated because of some lady named Pythia? She was the original one to recite a prophecy.” “Not A prophecy. THEE prophecy. The one that explains why Paragon is here, why she’s vital to the Gods, and how to get her home!” He bristles at me. “There must be two! Haven’t you been listening?” “Alright, alright!” I concede to him. “Can he read this?” Lucas slides the piece of paper across the desk, looking at me as if he’s trying to catch me in a lie. I pick up the scrap of parchment and hold it up so Zion can get a good look at it. He hums and mumbles at the foreign, yet familiar looking words on the paper. Without warning, anger surges through my body and he pushes his w

His face was carefully arranged in grief, but I saw the triumph glittering in his eyes. "I said your mate murdered her mother." He held up a piece of parchment, yellowed with age. "This is her confession that was written in her own hand." My heart stopped. No. That was impossible. Kael moved between me and Bryson, his beast very close to the surface. "You are lying." "Am I?" Bryson's voice dripped false sorrow. "Read it yourself, Your Majesty. See if the handwriting matches. Ask your healers to verify the ink and age."

Nobody recognized it. She showed it to Ren first. He looked at it for a long time with the expression of someone searching a very large library and coming up empty. "Elena's notes don't cover this." "You're sure." "I've read them four times cover to cover. This isn't in them." She showed it to Bri, who looked at it the way surgeons looked at symptoms that didn't fit any condition they'd treated. "No." She showed it to Pia, who took the material and held it at three different angles and said "the geometry is wrong for any human writing system I know" and handed it back.

he asked cautiously. "I don’t know," I replied, my eyes fixed on the text, my heart pounding. "But if it’s true… if what she wrote is true, then everything I thought I knew about my life, about my past… it’s all a lie." I turned the pages of the notebook, and a folded document fell out. Opening it, I discovered another letter, much older, dated several years before my birth. This document seemed to belong to my father, and it bore an address I recognized: the place where I had grown up.

The moon goddess is wise, but we now have humans, mere mortals who have been claiming to know more than the supreme being. A young lady was brought to me not long ago. She claimed not to be mad even though every action of her could be likened to that of a mad person. I wish I had believed that earlier enough. The papyrus which I write this with is not too close to be as dirty as this. I am not sure if you have noticed the unusual hue. But there is a knife buried into my side. My breathing grows faint as the seconds pass by. I don't have much time left.”

Aunt Jules always told me how much I reminded her of her big sister. I placed the picture on the nightstand next to the bed and then I continued to explore the contents of the chest. The next thing I found was a tattered paper scroll. It was old looking and had a weird old, dirty brown colour. I picked it up and it felt grainy against my fingers. "Is that Papyrus!" Zander carefully took the scroll from my hand. "It is. WOW!" He said, he began to examine the scroll more closely. "What is a Papyrus?"