Return to Garou Page
You stand before the ruined walls of an ancient city or town, nestled in the desert in a bay formed by encircling low hills and cliffs. Through a u-shaped dip in these, a ruddy setting sun is sinking below the horizon. Its rays turn to blood the golden sandstone blocks of the fortified walls, banded with deep shadows by vertical mouldings sunken or projecting out from the otherwise smooth surface. Visible through the gap-toothed spaces in the walls where stones have been carted away, there are many sprawling acres of crumbling stone and mudbrick walls, all that remains of shapely avenues, fine houses, granaries, workshops, palaces, temples, ornamental lakes. All are choked now with dust and spreading sands.
Allie blinks, shielding her eyes from the sun by putting a hand to her forehead and trying to shadow her eyes, or at least the good one. The cub considers for a moment but steps further towards the town, curiousity begging her to go further.
As Allie approaches, a jet black Owl alights on a broken-off, jagged block of stone at the top of the left pylon, a massive flaring wall that brackets what must have once been the main gate. It fixes moon-white eyes upon the cub and clacks its beak once. A question from it forms in Allie's mind:
Child of Anubis. What was your people's task in vanished Khem?
Allie's eyes focus on the owl, and she blinks. "To keep ma'at alive in our hearts, to keep the stories of our gods and of our people alive," she answers, words honest and sincere as possible coming from a girl of her age.
The Owl's eyes blink once.
That is your task now. What did you do for your kin, the humans who walked and worshipped in the Two Lands long ago?
Allie exhales heavily. "What I said," she replies to the owl. "I...will do for them what I feel is right."
Owl chews delicately on a talon.
Tonight you are telling one story, it whispers. Tonight you follow the path of Anubis. Who is Anubis? Who is Anpw?
Allie grinds her memory for Anubis, Anpw. The jackal-headed god. "Anubis is the god of enbalming, mummification. He helped send a man or woman's spirit into the land of Osiris, Asar."
Owl dips its head in confirmation, and issues its command: Watch over the dead. Guide the dead. Comfort and defend them on their final journey. Bring them safely to the Hall of Two Truths, where they must face the Judgement of Osiris.
Allie's eyes glisten with something akin to excitement at what she has been given. She nods in response to Owl, offering a loyal, "I will."
Child of Anubis. Perform your duty.
With an eerie cry more sensed than heard, the black owl unfurls wings and rises up like smoke, just as the last gleam of the setting sun drops below a nick in the stony cliffs. As darkness falls, a muffled shadow like the wings of owl beats at your face, blinding you, stealing away your senses. Oblivion takes you.
You paged Allie with 'And Allie falls "asleep" again. Before I go on, let me note this: If/when you need to disconnect, consider that Allie "wakes up" from the dream, and can't get back to it for the rest of the night. I expect it will take you a few sessions (3?) to finish. That way you can still roleplay when I'm not on, until we're done... Allie just has to wait for -me- to do the next part of the Dreaming.'.
From afar, Allie nods. Okay. :)
When you are aware of yourself and your surroundings again, they have shifted. You are resting with your back against a cool stone wall, in a small rocky chamber decorated with rough but still lively carvings of Egyptian motifs. They are easy to recognize, from books or stories you've seen or heard: rows of peasants reaping bountiful golden grain or driving oxen through green fields, a family shown on stylized boats, with the father at large scale, wife at his feet, children and sailors shown tiny, some spearing and netting fishes, the father tossing a bent stick at a cloud of ducks rising like fireworks from a stand of papyrus. The wall from which you emerged displays two things: a "false door", carved with a two-foot figure of a kilted man striding out of it to represent the occupant of the tomb, and bracketing him on both sides, paintings of Anubis, one lifting a bent tool (an adze), the other an ankh. All around are notes and inscriptions recording the passage of the dead soul to the underworld.
There are a few crumbs of some coarse bread and onion skins on a wide, flat bowl placed at the foot of the man's statue A cool pink light like that of dawn filters in through the rectangular opening, and indeed, the air is chill.
Allie shivers, gathering herself to her feet. She stares at the paintings and hieroglyphs, running her hands over them in total awe at the fact of where she is. The coloring is too bright, it's definitely not in this time frame. The Silent Strider cub shakes her head, stepping back and glancing down at the offering, and she closes her eyes, speaking to herself: ~Gaia and Owl, guide me.~ Then she regards the paintings and then towards the Book of the Dead painted on the wall. She gapes and narrows her eyes, remembering what she had read in books when she was younger. "Good Lord."
As Allie begins to get her bearings again, she hears a crunch of approaching footsteps from outside the door.
Allie glances towards the door, blinking, startled. "Hello?"
A girl dressed in a simple linen sheath-dress, the type with a band under the breasts and flat straps over the shoulder, appears framed in the doorway bearing a bowl upon her head. She looks to be a teenager with the usual ruddy-brown skin of her people, kohl-outlines around her eyes, plainish features, and black hair falling in heavy plaits around her shoulders. She gives a little cry and jerks to a halt, losing hold of the bowl she's carrying. It falls to the stone floor with a clatter of breaking pottery, spewing its contents of bread and a small jug of beer across the tomb entrance. The girl turns to run.
Allie blinks, and starts after the girl. "Wait!" she calls, and then stops, realizing these people obviously wouldn't know English. "Damn," she hisses under her breath, stepping out of the offering tomb and into the sunlight. She squints.
You move out only to find your way--and hers--blocked by a low shoulder of rock, an out-thrust rib from stony cliffs that serve to hide the tomb entrance. The air is cold, the sky a dusky blue laced with pink; it is not quite dawn. The girl turns back, wide-eyed, still poised like a deer to flee.
You realize belatedly that the words coming from your mouth aren't English either; as sometimes happens in a dream, you seem to be speaking the girl's own language!
Allie, again, blinks. This is quite odd. "Wait, wait," she says to the girl, slowly stepping towards her. She offers a hand and a friendly attempt at a smile. "I'm a friend, I won't hurt you." Well, it seems Allie won't end up working to help peace between the middle eastern countries.
"Oh," she says softly. "Sat-anpw." And although she speaks the ancient tongue of Khem, the words make sense in your mind. /Child of Anubis./ She drops to her knees, then stretches her arms forward and presses her forehead nearly to the ground. "Nebt." /Lady/.
Allie seems suprised at this. Very suprised. "You don't have to do that," she answers to the girl, and crouches down. "You don't." The smile has faded, but it's back, but only a vague twitch of her lips.
The girl raises her face, tears brimming in her eyes. "Are you not a child of Anubis?" she whispers in hushed tones.
Allie tilts her head, eyes narrowing. "I am," she answers, still confounded over the fact that she is speaking the language of Egypt with precision. She clarifies with a sort of pride in her voice, "I am a child of Anubis."
There is respect in the girl's eyes. "Then Pharaoh... life, health, strength be to him! ... is wrong, as my father said. Aten is not the Only One. The gods are still the gods." She takes Allie's hands fervently. "Re forgive us. Re forgive us. Oh, tell me that my father reached the West? We could not complete all the proper rites; it is forbidden. Forbidden." Her plaintiveness shifts to anger, or bitterness. "Tell me that my father lives in blessedness at the Field of Reeds."
"He is not the Only One. There is still Osiris, and Isis, and the rest." Allie sweeps her other hand, and then smiles briefly at the girl. "If I knew, I would tell you if he is, but I believe your father would be if he followed ma'at in his heart." Her free hand pokes at her own chest, where her heart is.
You paged Allie with 'Sometime during all this Allie will notice her clothes have changed to suit the dream... is it a dream? ... and she wears fine thin linen, gathered in intricate pleats. It's a bit see-through and rather sparse for the temperature at this time of the morning, although doubtless it's going to be quite comfortable during the heat of the day.'.
From afar, Allie nods and was thinking that. :)
The girl stands shakily and clasps Allie's hand before bowing slightly. "Thank you, honored Netcher. We knew the gods would not forsake us. You bring hope during a time when Ma'at teeters on the brink of ruin. And now Pharaoh (life, health, strength be to him!) is dying, and there are whispers that the temples will be opened once more, and Ma'at will return. Tell my father, if you go to the Duat. Tell my father all will be as he remembers from before poor Pharaoh went mad."
Allie exhales a heavy breath. "Ma'at will always be there. Truth will." She considers this for a moment. "The temples will be opened, and Ma'at is always there, if She is in your heart. If I go to the Duat, I will tell your father this. What was his name?"
The girl smiles a simple smile. "Watay."
Allie nods. "I will tell him," she says to the girl.
The girl moves back to the door to gather up her spilled offerings. "I must clean this up for him, and fetch some more beer from the house," she says, bearing no malice in her tone. "Thank you, Westchenyw G'rou." /Strider, the Silent One/. "Ankh 'm Ma'at."
"Live with Ma'at," Allie answers, and then decides to walk off in search of someone else to encounter. So, this is the reign of the infamous Akhenaten and Nefertiti, with their one god Aten. "Insane. This is insane."
Stepping around the spur of rock into the open, you find yourself at the lip of a short uneven slope of loose stones and dry, hard golden dirt falling gently towards a large settlement laid out below like a toy city. There are cliffs at your back, and the gleaming mist-veiled Nile glistens like lapis lazuli a few miles away to the west, with the ordered lines of streets and square houses and the city wall set between the two of them. An incredible feeling of deja vu hits you, but perhaps you are only shivering from the cold. It is getting light, but dawn is slow to come.
Long distance to Allie: Sepdet grins. Bingo! (I figured you'd guess, but I didn't count on you knowing history...donno how much you've been able to study so far!)
From afar, Allie grins.
Long distance to the room: Sepdet does a bit more scene-setting spam in lieu of actual Rooms.
Akhetaten's wide streets, white-plastered and lotus-columned houses, many pools, fragrent persea trees, palms and even frankincense trees are laid out freshly and cleanly as if all had sprung up overnight, by magic, into a huge living piece of jewelry set like a glass pectoral on the desert's breast. And indeed, something very like that has happened. Some ramshackle mud-brick dwellings have been erected between and against the fine mansions and workshops of the middle class families, often borrowing a wall for support. But even the humblest homes have fresh plaster, trees planted on either sides of their doors, and seem symmetrical, well-planed, and shapely, even if their lion-tawny walls lack the white paint and turquoise, gold, and red accents of the more well-to-do houses. Many of the streets have inset stones of different colors, and some even have painted scenese of fields and riverbanks, boats moving along the Nile, ceremonial processions of happy townspeople picked out in the gay bright colors of the Egyptian palette. There is water everywhere, circular pools with curving steps going down into them, often surrounded by carefully-manicured date palms, or small neat vegetable gardens. How on earth do they manage to get all that water out here in what is obviously arid desert?
Allie pages: damn Akhenaten.
As you move through the towns you spy a few people out and about already carrying water or feed for livestock, and there's an enticing smell of baking bread from somewhere nearby. But the city seems almost as deserted as the vision you had before. It's a strange feeling passing from street to empty street. At last, you hear a few men's voices drifting on the wind, coming from one of the sidestreets.
The Nile, of course. Life itself. Allie steps into the city, looking around with an eye of scrutiny. "Akhetaten," she says, remembering what she read about the Pharoah who defiled the rest of the gods. At the voices, she strolls in that direction, peeking into the street.
A small cluster of men are gathered around an elderly gentleman seated on a doorstep, sharing their morning beer. They are wearing kilts in the chill of the morning, although those few you spied carrying water or performing other physical labor were naked, as was taken for granted in this hot dry land. Snatches of their conversation drift your way as you approach. "... live at least two more years, damn him." "Bata's brother is a guard, and he says Pharaoh-- life, health, strength be to him! -- has not left his chamber in eighteen days now." "Don't say that! It will go badly for you..." "...can his precious Aten help him now, eh?" "Well, what -I- say is..."
"Hello," Allie ventures once stepping into the street, regarding the group of men. After a pause, she says with some sarcasm, "Aten helps no one. Aten only tears us apart."
That brings a sudden, stunned hush over all the men. Heads turn her way, and the old man almost drops his beer. They stare at her in amazement, and some with suspicion. One of them stammers, baffled, "Princess..." Another immediately elbows him harshly. "Don't be silly. It's just a servant of the palace." The old man peers at her. "Don't you think it's a little dangerous for you to be saying that so soon, child?" he says testily. "Our Pharaoh-- life, health, strength be to him!-- is still alive, unless you've heard news we have not." Sarcasm laces the customary blessing he gives to the king.
Allie smirks, considering a reply. Ever since reading upon the heretic king, the girl has had somewhat of a grudge against him--although he was dead for quite the longest time. "The Pharaoh is not deserving to be the Pharaoh for destroying our lives with his great sun disk," she says, tilting her head and watching the group of men. "Ma'at should come around and tell him that he is wrong and She knows what is right."
From afar, Allie has to go in a few minutes.
The old man peers at her, dumbfounded. "Well," he says drily, "You know where he lives." He points towards the rooftops of some rather impressive-looking buildings a few blocks away. "Feel free to let him know. We won't stop you."
Long distance to the room: Sepdet suggests breaking here before Allie gets to the Palace. We'll save that for the next night. :)
Turning southward on a wider road than all the others, you pass the tall golden pylons of a great temple, with two large obelisks standing like proud fingers on either side of the open gate. Inside you glimpse an open courtyard filled with short, square stone tables, some of which bear offerings. Painted in duplicate on either side of the gate are not the usual scenes glorifying a Pharaoh's military exploits, but rather, twin vignettes of Akhenaten's family worshipping the Aten. Even if you didn't know what they looked like, it's easy to recognize the king and queen by their elaborate headresses of horns, feathers, discs, cobras, etc; lifting blossoms with upraised hands towards their singular deity. The king is depicted as only slightly larger than his wife, but about their feet are three smaller figures that resemble aliens more than children, nude and only possibly female. All the human figures are oddly distorted, with high breasts (even on Akhenaten) above a narrow waist; swollen hips, thighs, and belly; long thin arms, hands and feet whose graceful curves defy bone structure; and strangely elongated heads with large noses, bulbous chins, and thick droopy lips.
There is a tap-tap-tap of wood striking stone. Your eye is caught by movement in the shadow of the obelisk. Someone is there, having climbed partway up the wall, and is chipping away at part of the relief on the wall with an oddly-shaped wooden mallet.
Allie tilts her head, glancing towards the obelisk, towards where the person might be. Still confused at the fact that she knows the language of Khem, she offers, "Who's there?"
Turning at the voice, the wall-chipper suddenly loses his toehold, and falls the short distance to the ground with a yell. He lands sprawling and lies there on his side.
Allie's eyes widen and she scurries over towards the man, crouching near him with a concerned expression upon her face. "Are you alright?" she asks, scooting back to allow the man space to sit up (if that would be possible).
There's room, and the man struggles to his knees with a curse. "I'm fine! Fine! I was... I was just repairing a broken stone!" he says defensively, eyes darting towards the road behind her.
Behind him, only partly hidden now by the shadow of the obelisk, the plastered-over wall appears freshly-painted and nearly flawless. But there are a few rough holes cut into the wall lower down, in the approximate area where his feet were braced, and one large uneven patch where the paint has been chipped away to reveal the golden limestone behind it. The excised area has erased two of the four royal names displayed in oval cartouches close by the king's head.
Allie examines the pillar, and glances to the man. "Getting rid of the Pharaoh, are you?" she says, amused by this. "I don't blame you." She then steps back, standing to her full height, eyes narrowing slightly. "I should get going." Who is she? That question plagues Allie's mind as she walks towards the palace, continuing on her quest.
The man picks up his mallet and turns to run. "There will be an atonement!" he calls boldly, as he dashes off. "You'll see! You'd better start packing; the Horizon of Aten is going to be a Horizon of Ghosts soon!"
Continuing on past a line of storehouses on the left and fragrent gardens on the right, you pass under a bridge connecting a huge and official-looking building one one side of the street with a smaller but equally finely-decorated mansion on the other. Both have the archtypical columns topped with flaring bells painted like lotus flowers, seen in so much Egyptian architecture, but these are touched with real gilding and precious jewels. Both buildings have huge doors of ebony and gold, but those on the vast palace to the right are shut; those of the mansion are open, and before them are a few soldiers in spotted cow-hides bearing shields and curved swords in their hands.
"The news from the Chamber of Gold is not good," one is saying to his fellows in low tones. "They say he may already be dead, and that Overseer Ay has taken charge."
Allie's eyes narrow as she catches some of the conversation, but she lifts her chin in an attempt to at least hold a semi-royal demeanor as she attempts to pass past the guards into the building.
A second guard catches sight of Allie as she attempts to slip between them, and he draws himself to attention, then blinks. "What are you doing outside at this time of the morning, Handmaiden?"
Handmaiden? The girl stops. Allie regards the guard and just says, "I wanted to take a walk." She offers an obviously false smile, and then tries to slip into the palace.
They don't try to stop her, but one guard calls after. "Do us a favor. Find out what's happening in there and send us word? We haven't had a message in hours, and the rumors are spreading through the town like locusts. We've already had to chase off a few children throwing stones."
Allie glances over her shoulder. "Rumors? About what?" She turns, regarding the guards curiously.
The third guard stares. "That Pharaoh--Life, health, strength be to him--is gasping out his last breath of life in the Chamber of Gold! What else? Has the madness of this house begun to affect his servants too?"
The guard who addressed Allie slaps the man hard across the jaw with the flat of his blade. "Mertseger take your tongue, before I cut it out."
Allie arches a brow, but says no more as she continues on towards the building.
It's dim shades of shadow inside, for there are no lamps lit and the cold light of dawn slips in only through high stone grills set in a raised clerestory in the ceiling down the middle of the hall. As your eyes begin to adjust to the faint light, you make out a roofed-over antechamber with heavy, bud-topped stone columns, each painted and shaped like a massive bundle of papyrus. More graceful scenes of Nilotic marshlands adorn the walls. There is a hushed stillness here, and again no one in sight.
Allie clears her throat, somewhat loud, as if someone would be there to hear her. She continues down the hall, glancing around with awe twinkling in her eyes.
You continue through more rooms, some upheld by stone columns, others of graceful gilded wood, all with elaborate paintings and inlay of precious stones. A few rooms are broad and open, and one has a pool. But there is no one here. The palace seems oddly deserted. Finally you hear voices down at the end of a corridor, growing in volume as you pad towards them.
These men are finely dressed, wearing thin pleated kilts and broad jeweled collars that mark them as fellows of some importance. Some men have heads shaved, others have elegant black braided wigs. A few lean on finely-carved staffs. "... The Great Criminal," one elderly official is saying. That elicits a chorus of muffled laughter from the rest. "Be careful, Tetu, that's God you're insulting." "Not -mine-," Tetu replies. "I told my wife to use our Aten-altar as a millstone." Another one frowns. "Do you think that's wise? Re-Horakhty..." All the heads bob with respect. "Re-Horakhty wants him dead as badly as we do, gentleman. He wants the temples opened, the granaries refilled..." "And your fat arse seated comfortably on the high priest's chair, reaping in the gold, eh, Tetu?"
Allie listens to this conversation attentively. "When he does die," she says, "the temples will be opened. But someone needs to do something about it." The 'handmaiden' then falls quiet, waiting for a response.
Behind them at the other end of the hallway from Allie, a slender figure listens and watches from a doorway, still and silent, white gown gleaming in the shadows. In fact, she is almost a mirror of Allie herself. The officials do not seem to have noticed their mute observer.
One of the officials smiles condescendingly at her. "And we will, little Handmaiden, have no fear," he says grandly. "As soon as poor Pharaoh has gone, we'll see about fixing some of the little... problems... that he has been too busy with his prayers to worry about."
"Like the fact that the Hittites are massing on the northeastern border and our vassals are going over to them since /he/ hasn't deigned to send military aid..." one grumbles.
Allie pages: Hey, are there any other hallways or rooms Allie can sneak into?
You sense that Spider is looking for you in Half Moon Pool
You paged Allie with 'Yeah, there's some side rooms.'.
Spider pages: be right back
Allie lifts her chin. "You should," she says, and then glances around, not looking over her shoulder at the observer. She goes off into one of the side rooms, to check it out.
It seems to be some sort of sitting room, with fine benches of some sweet-smelling polished wood, and three elegant backed chairs decorated with the Aten's disc. A bowl of dates and fresh fruits sits on a table with a top of inlaid rose granite, ready for the munching, but again, all is oddly hushed and still even for this time of the day.
Allie, out of curiousity, grabs a date, and bites into it. "Not that bad," she says to herself, and finishes it off. She licks her fingers--being in Egypt can make you hungry, afterall--and steps out, walking towards one of the other rooms and entering that one.
This one seems to be some sort of office: there are racks of scrolls stuffed into cubbyholes against one wall, and several chairs placed in a semicircle before a slanted-topped table like an easel that must be some sort of desk. The paintings on the walls show the building of a city, with singing laborers hauling blocks on sledges, surveyers and overseers directing the work with the squares, compasses, and tools of their trade in hand, and the Royal Family under a pavillion watching all. The Aten, of course, surmounts the tableau, its hands holding ankhs not only to the Pharaoh and his family, but to all the living creatures in the utopian scene.
As Allie continues to explore, the muttered voices of the men continue to echo from the main hallway. "... and the vassals on our north-borders still pay tribute, but for how much longer? I wouldn't be surprised if they haven't fallen already, and the Hittites are on their way." "Ma'at be restored," cries another earnestly. "And if the Queen takes the throne and does not marry? How will our persea trees and Aten's dainty city protect us from spears and arrows?" Haven't you seen the paintings?" another laughs darkly. "Neferu-neferu-Re-Smenkare-whatever-she's-calling-herself-this-year can smite and fight as well as any man. His majesty, herself." There are sounds of shushing, but someone else pipes up drily, just as you pass out of earshot, "Small wonder we have another Hatshepsut on our hands, when there's a Goddess for a Pharaoh..."
"Aten this, Aten that.." Allie's voice trails off and then glances out towards the group of men. "Ma'at is always there, but the Pharaoh refuses to believe that," she gives her two cents loudly so the group can hear, and then scoots off into examining yet another room.
There is a certain amount of laughter at Allie's bold declaration. "What, little Handmaiden?" one calls after her. "Would you like to be a priestess then? There's still a few posts we haven't yet given out!"
Allie snorts, saying nothing in response to the laughter nor the comments. "Priestess my butt," she murmurs to herself. "And I thought Ma'at existed then, so why wouldn't it be any different? She exists back...home, I guess," the girl says, biting her lower lip as she goes to explore once more.
This room has open windows that let in the growing light, and there seem to be a few smaller chairs and children's toys in here, set out neatly on a stone bench: a little wheeled horse, some wooden dolls of serving-women, each wearing somewhat tattered but jewelled clothes of fine make, a golden mirror shaped like an ankh supporting an Aten, into which some naughty child's hand has tried to scratch her name, to judge by the shaky hieroglyphs, several extremely accurate models of fruit made of carved and painted wood, and a collection of tiny terracotta bowls, cups, and jugs.
Allie pages: Would there be any other places to go? I'm thinking that Allie has to go send Akhenaten to the Duat, right? ;) Since Owl said she has to follow the path of Anubis. :b
A clear, young voice suddenly cuts across the men's talk like a gull's. "Have you no -respect- for the dying?" she reproaches. "To say nothing of the good God you should pretend to love for a few hours' more? -He- made Ma'at for you! He made this beautiful city for you to live in! He made the land peaceful and prosperous, and stopped the priesthoods from robbing the people of their hard-earned harvests and herdbeasts! You do not serve Ma'at! You only serve yourselves."
You paged Allie with 'Well, there's the door where the princess was standing at the other end of the hall. I'd assumed you were exploring side rooms rather than going straight to the back, maybe wrongly. :)'.
From afar, Allie is gonna slink to the back, then. :>
Long distance to Allie: Meretaten erks. You have to walk through the princess, then. ;)
Meretaten
You see a young woman around the age of twenty, slight, poised, and serious, carrying herself at all times like the princess she is. Her features are fine and delicate; she has a heart-shaped face with a petite upturned nose, small but full lips, almond eyes, and a complexion the color of teak. Her hair is surely a wig: thick black strands plaited crossways like a basketweave cap her head, and fall down straight in beaded bundles behind her right ear, held in place by a finely-embroidered band of linen stitched with gold. Arched and painted eyebrows add an air of serenity to her face, as do the thin lines of black kohl that surround her eyes and the lift of her chin. Surprisingly, she wears no jewelry, only a gauzy white gown with sharp fanlike pleats conforming closely to the curves of her body, apart from flaring sleeves and hem. The neckline is dramatic and pleasing, skimming over one shoulder and under the other. She wears thong sandals of papyrus, gilded at the edges of the straps.
Meretaten pages: Meretaten looked at you.
You paged Meretaten with 'Meretaten looked at you.'.
Allie watches Meretaten, tilting her head. "He made Ma'at?" With the tone of voice, she seems amused and disgusted with her comment that the Pharaoh made the moral of truth and justice and such. She then approaches the girl, looking at her curiously. "He is the Pharaoh, yes, and he has made Egypt what it is, but he has also robbed the people of what they held in their hearts." Then she attempts to slink past her.
Meretaten's eyes fill with tears, but she checks them, barely. "And -they- serve Ma'at, then?" she asks, sweeping a hand towards the suddenly sheepish and silent men. "How much love do they have for you, my handmaiden? Would they have built this city for you and your family, or kept it for themselves, to fatten their purses, even as they are discussing now?" She is standing in the doorway. Allie will have to push her aside."
Allie glances over at the men, and then back at the princess. She sighs. "They don't, and that's their problem. They say they serve Ma'at but from what I've seen," another glance towards the priests, "they do not." A hand pats Meretaten on the shoulder in an attempt of comfort, and she moves the princess off so she can leave.
Meretaten blinks at Allie and stares down at her hand. "Where...?" she asks, automatically letting the "impertinent servant" push her aside out of sheer surprise. But she follows Allie back into the next room, one with a wide-open ceiling, bathed gently in rosy flecks of light that glint from a large square pool that's filled with living lotus blossoms. "Then have you become my enemy too, my Handmaiden, like them?" she asks softly. " All smiles and adoration before the lord their god and king, but lies, lies, all lies, greed in their hearts. They pick his bones before he breathes his last, dividing up his kingdom among themselves like conquering chiefs. Is this how they return His boundless love? How can they be so blind? He is a -God-!"
Allie stops, and turns, peering at Meretaten. "I am no one's enemy. I'm just trying to decide what is right here," she says, in a low tone. "People are not what they seem, I know that. And the greed in their hearts doesn't show for their love for the Pharaoh or for Ma'at or anything. They just want what they want and they will do anything to get it. They are blind to anything but themselves." She stops her little speech.
Meretaten spreads her hands. "Then remember my poor father as no one else ever will, and have pity for him dying. He set war aside and stopped asking the people to give up their hard-earned possessions to fatten the storehouses of men like those." She nods bitterly towards the hall they left behind. He made a fair and fertile city out of barren sands. He made for them a paradise on earth, where every stone and tree and gleaming pool echoes the joy of Aten's living light, and bids us to live -now- and not dream child's dreams of a maybe-someday-afterlife! Do they still dream of their precious Duat, their child's fairytale, with dog-headed gods and demons and a field of green reeds to romp in? Can they not see that he has given them all this and more, here, in the living land of Khem, molded out of the boundless love he holds for his people? But he had so short a time, so short a time to dwell in it, and no one will thank him for it when he is gone..." The tears begin to fall now, slowly, like the scant rains that seldom grace this landlocked country.
"No one is perfect," Allie says. "Everyone has their wrongs. They still do dream of their Duat, of their gods and goddesses which have been with them since the beginning. I think that it is hard on the people with changing of what they believe in." She shrugs. "That is what I think, and I am not saying your father is bad. I have pity for anyone who is dying. Do you believe he sees Ma'at in his heart? Do you? If you do, if you know what is in your heart, you'll know what to do. I was told this by a friend of mine, and I believe in it."
Meretaten lifts her head towards the soft peach-colored sky. "I believe," she whispers. "What a strange question? But I suppose no one else does, anymore, or will for much longer. It is a good city he has made. It is a good dream he has given us. And he did it for love. Not for gold, or war, or petty gain, or a kingdom. He tried to show to everyone the light of Aten which is in himself."
Allie, like an attentive therapist, listens to Meretaten. "The people of Khem do not want to see the light of Aten, they want their old gods and goddesses back," she offers, shrugging a shoulder. "No one is right and no one is wrong, and you need to remember that the only thing that matters is the path _you_ follow and what _you_ believe in."
From afar, Allie giggles. Allie and Milah had a conversation like this, about Ma'at and following your own path and such. Allie, enlightened!
Meretaten lifts her chin at the words. "Then I alone will uphold Aten, even if they throw his body into the Nile for the fishes to devour. I will uphold the memory of his sacred city, even if they abandon it and use the stones for birthing-bricks. I will try to keep the love in my heart that he taught me, even if they marry me off to whichever of them steals the most and makes himself the next Pharaoh in my father's place." There are still tears in her eyes, but she speaks with the pride of anyone raised a princess.
As she speaks, an aged man leaning on a staff, wearing a pleated gown somewhat like hers and a broad gold-and-carnelian collar, hobbles into the room from a rear doorway and calls urgently. "Lady Meretaten! Forgive me, Princess, but he calls you. Go quickly; I did not know where to find you."
Allie glances towards the man, and offers a somber smile to Meretaten. "Remember what I said, Princess," she muses, and then queries, "May I come and pray for the Pharaoh?" Maybe that might work.
Meretaten turns and smiles tentatively. "Please. It would help if someone does."
Allie seems to be trying to be at least somewhat compassionate for the girl who is losing her father, so she goes along, standing beside Meretaten like a loyal friend.
It is impossible not to be distracted by the opulent rooms you pass through, as Princess Meretaten leads you to the back of the great royal house and a room panelled in sweet cedar and gold-leaf. A stale smell of sickness is not quite masked by the cedar. Inside, three important-looking gentlemen bow to the princess and step back to give her room, falling respectfully silent.
In the center of the room is a canopied bed, the supports again wrought to look like flowering plants. Beside it upon an elaborate wooden chair, decorated with openwork designs of papyrus and lotus interwoven together, sits a strong-boned woman of immortal profile, wearing the high blue flat-topped crown and a pleated gown open right down the front. It is Nefertiti; three thousand years have not yet blotted out the memory of this woman's face. Just now, however, the lines around her mouth and eyes have deepened, her cheeks are sallow, and the eyes are as flat and lifeless as glass paste. She sits still as a stone statue, and holds the hand of her husband, who lies under a thin sheet with his heavy-lidded eyes closed. The skin of his strangely elongated face sags gray and loosely from his bones, and his breathing is shallow.
Set.
Name set.
Akhenaten
Akhenaten's appearance takes the attenuated features of Nefertiti and his family just one step too far. His face is long, his lips thick, his nose bulbous at the tip and again too long, his forehead smooth as a Buddha's and his eyes wide-set and slightly tilted, with drooping lids. A strange man. His long slender limbs and oddly effeminate figure hint at some genetic disorder. But he is not quite as strange-looking as his statues make him out to be; they are an exaggeration and caricature of the true Akhenaten. Like all those of his court, he wears the translucent gauzy linen gown with fine diagonal pleats following the body contours, a garment that appears to be modelled on women's dress.
Allie recognizes the woman. "My Queen," she says, tenatively, to Nefertiti, and then looks over towards the Pharaoh. Her eyes and expression are sad, for here is a man forever embedded in history dying right before her eyes. She considers what to say. Then: "May Ma'at guide you, my Pharaoh, and may..." The Silent Strider pauses, but continues on, "May Aten keep your heart light."
The Queen stirs at Allie's words, although she doesn't turn. Meretaten touches her mother's shoulder and whispers, "My Handmaiden, mother." She gives Allie a grateful sad smile and then moves to the head of the bed and drops to her knees to kiss her father's strange lips. "The sisters who love you are here," she whispers. "The daughters who love you are here..." The dying man stirs and shakes his head in a faint "no", reaching up to touch her cheek.
"Shhh, Meryt-sat," he rasps. "No old hollow words, empty rites. I go to take my... place. I am within the Aten. Re-Horakhty's light is in my..." his voice trails off like a broken spider's web drifting on the wind.
Allie watches the interaction, and bites her lip. She has to hold herself from crying, imagining herself in this position: if her father was dying like this.
"The light is in your eyes, and shines from your eyes, dear father," the princess whispers. She looks back at her mother and tentatively sets her hand over Nefertiti's, over his. There is a faint sound, no more than a sigh of breath, and then silence.
"He is gone," Nefertiti says tonelessly. "Ah, he is gone."
The princess wraps her arms around her mother's shoulders and begins to cry.
But of course, for one of Anubis' children, the dead man is here. Soundlessly, a shape arises from the bed, a double of the man lying there still. Akhenaten sits up and swings his legs over the edge of the bed with a sigh, setting his two hands on the shoulders of his wife and child, watching them with eyes clear and steady and brimming with a love that's almost uncomfortable to watch. He murmurs a blessing on them, kisses them--but they do not see or hear or feel him--and then moves away from the bed with a slow, shuffling step.
Allie steps back, watching the princess and the queen. "I am sorry," she murmurs, and then blinks at the man who was supposedly dead. She then offers, "He loved you all, and he loves you still."
There is a slight shifting of Meretaten's shoulders at Allie's voice, and she says something inaudible that must be thanks or some sort of answer, but the mother and daughter are wrapped in their own grief now. The three men who were keeping vigil have already left the room, probably to spread the joyous news.
Allie just watches, now, staring, mouth open slightly. The girl stares at Akhenaten, and her eyes blink a few times, arms and hands shaking, twitching.
Akhenaten stops, and those unsettling eyes fasten on you, a puzzled smile lingering on his lips. "Now, what are you?" he asks with a drowsy baritone. "A servant of Aten come to escort me to the sky? Why, I should have expected a full honor guard, or none. But no matter. What's your name, little Netcher?" His voice is much stronger than his frail frame would suggest, and not unpleasing: there is a kindliness behind it, although it might be a little maddening, in the fashion of a Jehovah's Witness.
"I am here to bring you to the Hall of Two Truths. I am here to bring you to your place among the sky with the gods. I am a child of Anubis, my Pharaoh," Allie says. She considers what to say about the naming, and just says, "Allison."
Akhenaten's face turns quizzical. "The Hall of Two Truths?" he laughs. "You and I know better. The other gods are but spirit-servants of the One God, taking on forms the simple folk find reassuring. They and the Duat are no more than fairy tales told to make little children behave. Nay, I go to the place of Living Light, to be merged with the holy disk of Aten. But," he adds with a kindly smile, "I welcome the company."
From afar, Allie should have said Child of Anpw, but oh well.
You paged Allie with 'Ah, but with the gift of Owl on this adventure (and a lazy GM), Allie -did- say Anpw!'.
"I do not believe the Duat is a tale, but you may think as you wish," Allie says, attempting to be as sober as possible. She then steps out of the room.
The spirit-form of Akhenaten can move on his feet, but he still seems weak, sickly. He wipes his brow as the pair of you retrace your steps through the palace; those you pass nod to you, but fail to see the one you're escorting. Akhenaten can't help but hear some of the curses being heaped already upon his name, and his brow wrinkles with pain, but he speaks no word against his people.
"Do not listen to them," Allie says, glancing over her shoulder. "They just think of themselves, and not of anyone else." She shrugs, and continues on, wondering where she exactly should be headed.
"Yes. But Aten will look after them anyay," he says with assurance, stumbling even as he speaks the words. "Take it slowly," he advises himself softly, and gives Allie a sardonic smile. "The God's light inside me burns my body, and I am almost all air. A little too much for the solid world. May I lean on your shoulder, good Netcher?"
Allie nods. "I don't mind." She pauses, and asks, "Why do you call me Netcher?"
His hand, long-fingered and delicate-looking, is surprisingly firm as he sets it on Allie's shoulder. "God," he laughs. "Spirit. You can be nothing else; I see it in your eyes. You are some child of Re-Horakhty--or Anpw, as you prefer, for he must be a son of Light as well--sent to help me on my way. It is very good of you."
Allie smiles slightly. "The least I could do," she says to the former king of Khem, continuing on, still clueless as to where the hell she is supposed to go. "I was sent to help you, yes."
Thus supporting the frail Pharaoh, you go on your way. He seems to know where he -thinks- he's going, although considering his other beliefs, that may not be a good sign. As you move through the streets, he proudly points out the pools and houses, lakes and trees and other fine things of this magical city he caused to be built, sprung from his own dreams. East you go, towards the gleaming horizon grown brilliant like polished gold, a light that burns the eyes. Akhenaten stares at the glorious pre-glow of sunrise unflinchingly, but you cannot bear it steadily for long.
Allie continues on, closing her eyes, waiting until she hits where she appeared here. Maybe someone is there waiting, maybe Owl is there waiting for her.
You are headed towards the notch in the hills you saw in your first vision, somewhat northeast of the hidden tomb where you first arrived. But this time the sun is rising! A white gem of dazzling fire shows first like the eye of some god, and then the great golden disk of the sun begins to pull free of its bed, perfectly framed by the gap in the cliffs. Akhenaten halts to raise an arm towards the breathtaking sight. "Hail, Ra," he intones, "who rises at dawn without failing. Lord of Eternity, He who is in his Disk, Re-Horakthy, my father! Thy skin's brilliance brings life to the world. The many colors of thy light blend and intoxicate thy followers. You fill the Two Lands with thy love..." His voice is warm, rich, and rolling, even beautiful. As he chants, a golden ray shoots down between the gap in the eastern cliffs and falls directly before your feet on the white pavement of the street, like a moonbridge made of sunlight instead of silver.
Allie's eyes widen, and she tenatively takes a step closer, putting a foot on the bridge of sunlight. "Stay with me," she says gently to the former Pharaoh, squinting so she doesn't become bling from the brilliant light given off by the sun's gold disk.
Eyes wide, he walks forward, still leaning on your shoulder with one hand, face tranquil and blissful. If he is mad, as they say, it is the madness of one who thinks he knows the secret of life and death: that surety shines in his face as he marches onward. And upward. Almost imperceptibly your feet lift from the desert floor, travelling up on the ray of new-born sunlight reaching out from the notch in the mountains as clearly as a moon-path, but sharp-edged, golden instead of silver. And there is something beyond or behind or beside the sun, straight lines and curves you can barely make out against the glare as you climb into the sky.
As you set foot on solid ground, the last of the other dead spirits are just disappearing through a mighty square stone gate, a little like the pylons of the earthly temples, but there are no walls on either side of them: only a gray shifting blur no eye can penetrate. Beside the opening stand a pair of hawk-headed gods holding sheaves of wheat.
Long distance to Allie: Akhenaten was thinking of Tehuti, the moon-god incarnation of Thoth, actually, but you're right, Hapy's got a baboon head, and actually he's more appropriate. The gal with the bowl on her head was Nepthys. ;)
Akhenaten halts in consternation as the deities (or demons) bar the door by crossing the large wheat-steams over it. They look to be made of some golden metal with sharp edges. "Halt!" they cry in unison. "What is the pass-word?"
Allie raises a hand. "I do not know, but I am a child of Anpw, sent to guide this man into the heart of the skies with Re," she says to the deities/demons. "This is my task, and I ask you to please let me pass through the gate with this man's spirit."
They do not remove the weapons, but their stances relax somewhat. "You must speak our names, cousin," they tell her. "Only for that are we allowed to let you pass through."
"Eater-of-Shadows. He-Whose-Two-Eyes-Are-Fire. That is who you are," Allie says, after grinding her mind.
They bow and retract their ceremonial weapons from the first of the twelve gates. With Allie's help and memory, she guides the befuddled and increasingly bewildered Pharaoh through each arit and past each guardian, until finally you stand on the threshold of a mighty chamber. The floor shimmers like water, and the distant walls writhe like the undulations of mighty serpents, and the ceiling is not there at all: tips of tongues of flame dance and flicker overhead as if the whole of the vast hall were filled with an unseen fire. And far ahead looms the great gleaming form of a pair of balanced scales, and a man stands there before it, facing an Ibis-headed god.
Allie pages: Spamming some more? ;)
You paged Allie with 'How -could- you guess? :)'.
From afar, Allie grins.
The scales are trembling as Allie and Akhenaten reach the threshold. Under the lefthand scale a huge shadowy creature crouches, licking its teeth, waiting for the heart that lies in the pan over its head. The righthand side of the scales tips upwards slightly, a large glowing white feather draped across its pan.
"I am pure!" the man declares again, voice ringing out with just the faintest edge of fear."I have done injury to no man. I have slept with no one's wife. I have spoken truth and I eat of truth. I have given water to the thirsty and clothing to the hungry, and when a man said, 'I need thy boat,' I have given it to him willingly. I have made the proper offerings to the gods and to the dead. Preserve my heart from the Devourer, save me, Lord of the Atef Crown, Lord of Breath, Osiris, great god."
The pans of the scale return to the level and go still, and the dead one breathes out a sigh of relief. The ibis-headed god standing behind the scales makes a note on a huge roll of papyrus and nods to him, and a shining being with a hawk's head steps forward from the grove of grain, holding out a hand. "Come," he whispers in a voice as pure as the first day of the world. "It is time to meet my father." The lucky man is led away, and then the ibis-headed one fixes a beady gaze on you. "Come forward," he commands. "To whom do you wish to be announced?" A grim hush falls on the great hall, and the monster's alligator-like tail flicks from side to side.
Long distance to Allie: Akhenaten sighs and mops her brow. That's it. :)
Allie watches Ammut warily. She then glances toward Tehuti, and steps forward towards the god. "I am a child of Anpw. I was sent to take the once Pharaoh Akhenaten to the Duat to reside with the gods forever, for--even though he says he does not believe in you--his heart is with Ma'at, and pure, and I can see this in his eyes."
Could not page .
You paged Seeker and Allie with 'This is the first RoP for which I think I really need to give a bibliography. Yah!'.
From afar, Allie giggles.
Tehuti takes a step forward, the bird's eyes inhuman and stern. "Then lead him forward to be judged. And place your hand over his heart, daughter of Anpw," he whispers.
Akhenaten, meanwhile, has stopped dead (!) and still in the final doorway, staring at the scales with a mixture of horror and disbelief and sudden heart-crumbling fear.
Allie, slightly forcefully, guides the Pharaoh towards the Scales of Ma'at, and turns, placing her small hand on his heart. "Ma'at is in your heart, Pharaoh, and I know. Let them know you are true and pure to what you think is right." She then steps away, ushering him towards the Scales.
Akhenaten looks at Allie pleadingly. "Do not let the demon devour my heart. Take me to my father, take me back to the Aten," he whispers. "I beg of you."
"She will not. This is where you belong," Allie tells the man gently as possible. "I told you you would see, and now you are seeing what I meant: there is no Aten. But your heart and soul is good, and Ammut will not devour your heart. I believe Ma'at knows that, even though you say you do not believe in these gods, you are a good man and you are true to yourself."
Akhenaten trembles, denial coming into his face, even as he takes in at least some of what she is saying. "Aten is real," he whispers, clinging to this kernel of his belief like a lifeline.
Again Tehuti commands, "Daughter of Anpw. Place your hand over the heart of the one who wishes to prove he is Pure of Voice. Take what comes into your hand, and place it upon the Scales."
Allie sighs and places a hand upon where the man's heart would be, and then steps towards the Scales of Ma'at. Tenatively, she places the heart upon the scale opposite of the feather of truth, stepping back, inhaling.
A heart appears in Allie's hand, still pulsing, gleaming redly. It is very heavy, surely not as light as a feather. As Allie steps back from the scales, Ammut licks its teeth in eager anticipation.
"Now, /Amenhotep/, who call yourself Akhenaten," thunders the Interpreter of the Two Lands, "Defend yourself." "Defend yourself," echo forty-two voices whispering like a sea of grain. All along the upper walls are shadowy figures of other gods or spirits, watching, impassive. But Akhenaten opens his mouth and no sound comes out. He is at a loss for words. The scales begin to creak, the pans to sway.
Allie's eyes close. "Speak, please, defend yourself," she says, desperate, as she then opens her eyes to stare at the dead man with a sort of fear for what would happen.
Akhenaten stares at her, and then turns his fearful gaze towards the great scales. "I am pure. I have eaten truth..." he whispers, grasping for the words that the poorest peasant in the land of Khem must know by heart, but Pharaoh does not know. "I have breathed truth. I have fed the hungry and given water to the thirsty. I have builded great temples for Re-Herakhty, father of all of you gods..."
"He closed our temples," cries a far-off voice from one side of the hall.
"He drove away the sacred ibises," laments another, bringing a cool gaze from the scribe of the gods.
"He left the tribute lacking."
"He left the holy city of Thebes."
"He built his tomb on the eastern shore."
"He left the allies of Khem to founder against barbarians, and did not maintain the boundaries of the land against its enemies."
"He failed to uphold Ma'at."
"He denied the gods."
The voices ring out like the toll of a bell, and after each one the lefthand side of the scales dips a millimeter lower. The monster below tips back its hideous, scabrous head and opens tusky jaws wide.
Akhenaten turns to Allie, still gripping her shoulder like a lifeline. "Help me," he pleads. "What am I to say to them? Speak for me."
"No, no, no," Allie cries out. She then stares at Tehuti, and says, with every grain of pride and honor and strength she can muster, "This man has, in his heart, to himself, upheld Ma'at. Yes, he has done things that will seem wrong to all of you, but...no one is perfect, everyone will do something that will fault themselves the rest of their lives. Please, listen to me. Please." She sniffs, then, and a tear from each eye falls against her cheeks.
The scales stop moving, trembling in place. Allie can feel many eyes turn towards her. "Tell us, then, daughter of Anpw." And Tehuti, whose gaze is keener than most: "We listen, half-moon, Westchenyw G'rou. His heart is in your hands. Tell us what good this man has done, who turned his back on all the ways of his land and strove to make a new one."
Allie sniffs again. "In his heart, he upheld Ma'at. In his heart, he did the best he could. Everyone has their faults, and this man has done things that are both good and bad." She pauses, collecting her thoughts. "He has been as truthful as possible, he has given love to his people which I have never seen, not from my own parents, he has taken care of his family with an unconditional love and he has taken care of his people the best way he knew how. In his mind and in the mind of his daughters and his wife, he is pure. Maybe not in some others', but he has done good in the best way he knew how, even though he has also done things that he should regret."
Allie seems to be telling her thoughts, even her heart, as she relates this to the assembly of gods.
Tehuti nods and sets his hands at the hinge of the scales, holding them steady.
But the hawk-headed deity steps forth again from the pavillion of green and gold, and raises his hands in a forbidding gesture. "He has denied my father, Asar," Heru calls in a clear voice. "He may not go to the field of reeds. He may not enter the West."
"I never wished it," Akhenaten says with a lift of his chin, finding some of his former pride and courage. "I am of the Aten. I am of the light, not this shadow-world. If I cannot see the light of the Sun ever again, then I am ready to face your Devourer and my ending."
Allie stares at Akhenaten. "Speak for yourself," she murmurs. "Speak what you believe and what you think is right." She shrugs, then, as if it was not her choice to make: but maybe it would have been. Who knows.
"Let him go," comes a ghostly voice from beyond the green canopy, that fills all the chamber. "Send him to my father, Ra. Let an oar be placed in his hand, and let him be steersman for the Boat of a Million Years, the vessel of his beloved Aten."
Long distance to Seeker: Akhenaten gives in. Feh. She should've said that herself, but ah well.
Tehuti looks at Allie. "Return his heart to him, daughter of my nephew," he commands softly. "But be swift." At his words, the left side of the scales plummets with a clang to the floor, and the predator there leaps to thrust its long snout under the golden links of chain to find the heart lying there.
Allie glances to where the voice comes from, a smile beginning. Then that smile seems to take up her whole face, and then crouches near the scale, staring at Ammut, and a hand reaches out to grasp at the heart. "He is pure," she says to the devourer, and then stands, walking over towards Akhenaten and then placing the organ back where it belongs.
The monster scuttles back with a hiss. Akhenaten stands still and wondering as Allie walks back to him. As the heart vanishes from her hands and back into his body, a bright light bursts forth behind Allie like the brutal heat of the Egyptian mid-day sun. It turns his face to the color of polished alabaster as he smiles in sudden joy. If Allie turns seek the source of the sudden illumination, she may catch a momentary glimpse of the feather of Ma'at lying in its golden pan, blazing forth like Ra from the highest point in heaven. Then all the room dissolves in white light, and the dream ends.
Allie's eyes close and then open, and she shifts her position as she awakens, yawning loudly.
On the ground beside Allie's head, there is an amulet carved of two stones, carnelian and alabaster. The red stone is shaped as the Egyptian glyph for the heart, and the white forms a stem above it, fashioned into the form of a feather.
Sepdet is still there on the other side of the fire, watching.
Allie glances at the two amulets, and then back to Sepdet. "Did I..." her voice trails off, and she then takes the two stones in her hand, clutching at them as if the two were life itself.