The Legacy of the Divine Scroll prologue
by nyckiban
Posted: Thursday, January 19, 2006 Word Count: 683 |
Prologue
Circa 1200 BC, Egypt.
Nefertari left the harem, frantic, running blindly impervious to the distraught calls of the other women. Clutched to her bosom was her dead baby; feelings of failing him rendered her inconsolable. Copious tears left damp tracks on her striking face and her grief was interspersed with moments of anger, how…how dare the guardian of the Divine Scroll kill her child. Clutching the lifeless newly born infant close to her, she pressed her face against his, and felt his waning warmth. Releasing a huge sob she ran out of the palace into the grounds, tearing ahead, paying no regard to her flight or destination. Quietly praying to him ‘Lord Lucifer, forgive me, forgive me….my Lord, I have failed you.’ Running on and on, unfaltering in her steps and sometimes not even feeling the ground beneath her feet, relentlessly and never tiring. At times she moved on the earth and desert sand, and other times she unconsciously employed the wind to lift her and take her in its lofty embrace, gathering her up gently and transporting her and the dead infant through the sky. Although, unaware of the time and distance in fleeting seconds of lucidity it seemed like hours, and at times it felt like days. Suddenly she sensed him in her mind, his soothing tones eased her, she spoke in mind speak forgive me….forgive my failure, my Lord. I beg of you forgive me…. letting out a great heaving sob, she was still. Not of her own accord, but he had brought her to a standstill, she looked up through her tears and recognized her temple at Abu Simbel. Finally, the trauma and exertion caught up to her and resulted in her collapse to the temple floor, still clutching the dead newborn to her. Closing her eyes, she wept uncontrollably, despair permeated her entire being making her feel as though her body and spirit were being torn in two, her heart was heavy and her chest felt constricted, it hurt to breathe. Sleep now my Queen, his voice in her mind instructed, sleep and all will be resolved. Gradually she cried herself to sleep, not for a minute allowing the child’s lifeless body to leave her arms. Her sleep persisted for seven days and he came to her in her dreams, assuaging her distress and suffering. He told her that all hope was not lost and that there was another way, their son would be reborn, but first she had a prophecy to write and a sisterhood to form. Her dreams were reassuring and explicit in their detailing of what she must do, following which would begin her long sleep, an extended sleep which would allow her to live again in another time and era. When the instance arose, and she was awoken, their child, the dark one would walk the earth, ready to wield the Divine Scroll, to fulfil the prophecy that was to be written, and to begin the unmaking of humankind. On awaking she found herself being administered to by the priestesses of her temple. They had bathed and washed her, and she was on a makeshift bed in a small room off the temple that wasn’t recognized, it hadn’t been part of the temple as far as she could recollect. She surfaced a new woman; the body of her dead child had been removed and within her burgeoning, was a new found determination and strength which was unexpected and welcome, desirable to the unbearable despair of before. Over the following weeks all her Lord’s wishes were overseen and when finally she had completed her tasks she was interred in the small room she had awoken in. Climbing into her sarcophagus and with the help of her high priestess, spells were employed to invoke her deep slumber and hide her presence from all. The sarcophagus was closed and the room sealed. She slept a profound sleep full of nebulous dreams and notions. A sleep that would last for over 3000 years, she lay dormant waiting for her dead son to be reborn, to awaken her.
Circa 1200 BC, Egypt.
Nefertari left the harem, frantic, running blindly impervious to the distraught calls of the other women. Clutched to her bosom was her dead baby; feelings of failing him rendered her inconsolable. Copious tears left damp tracks on her striking face and her grief was interspersed with moments of anger, how…how dare the guardian of the Divine Scroll kill her child. Clutching the lifeless newly born infant close to her, she pressed her face against his, and felt his waning warmth. Releasing a huge sob she ran out of the palace into the grounds, tearing ahead, paying no regard to her flight or destination. Quietly praying to him ‘Lord Lucifer, forgive me, forgive me….my Lord, I have failed you.’ Running on and on, unfaltering in her steps and sometimes not even feeling the ground beneath her feet, relentlessly and never tiring. At times she moved on the earth and desert sand, and other times she unconsciously employed the wind to lift her and take her in its lofty embrace, gathering her up gently and transporting her and the dead infant through the sky. Although, unaware of the time and distance in fleeting seconds of lucidity it seemed like hours, and at times it felt like days. Suddenly she sensed him in her mind, his soothing tones eased her, she spoke in mind speak forgive me….forgive my failure, my Lord. I beg of you forgive me…. letting out a great heaving sob, she was still. Not of her own accord, but he had brought her to a standstill, she looked up through her tears and recognized her temple at Abu Simbel. Finally, the trauma and exertion caught up to her and resulted in her collapse to the temple floor, still clutching the dead newborn to her. Closing her eyes, she wept uncontrollably, despair permeated her entire being making her feel as though her body and spirit were being torn in two, her heart was heavy and her chest felt constricted, it hurt to breathe. Sleep now my Queen, his voice in her mind instructed, sleep and all will be resolved. Gradually she cried herself to sleep, not for a minute allowing the child’s lifeless body to leave her arms. Her sleep persisted for seven days and he came to her in her dreams, assuaging her distress and suffering. He told her that all hope was not lost and that there was another way, their son would be reborn, but first she had a prophecy to write and a sisterhood to form. Her dreams were reassuring and explicit in their detailing of what she must do, following which would begin her long sleep, an extended sleep which would allow her to live again in another time and era. When the instance arose, and she was awoken, their child, the dark one would walk the earth, ready to wield the Divine Scroll, to fulfil the prophecy that was to be written, and to begin the unmaking of humankind. On awaking she found herself being administered to by the priestesses of her temple. They had bathed and washed her, and she was on a makeshift bed in a small room off the temple that wasn’t recognized, it hadn’t been part of the temple as far as she could recollect. She surfaced a new woman; the body of her dead child had been removed and within her burgeoning, was a new found determination and strength which was unexpected and welcome, desirable to the unbearable despair of before. Over the following weeks all her Lord’s wishes were overseen and when finally she had completed her tasks she was interred in the small room she had awoken in. Climbing into her sarcophagus and with the help of her high priestess, spells were employed to invoke her deep slumber and hide her presence from all. The sarcophagus was closed and the room sealed. She slept a profound sleep full of nebulous dreams and notions. A sleep that would last for over 3000 years, she lay dormant waiting for her dead son to be reborn, to awaken her.