Voices in Crystal

by Mary R Woldering

  He sensed his writing change. The careful and precise scrawl loosened and tightened at varying intervals. It clambered in all directions, taking on the feeling of a fluid drawing rather than writing. Through him, the children related the story of souls coming to Earth to observe the beasts lifting wing and fin from the first ocean. Some, they whispered, came to watch and record, because they were record keepers of the Universe. The longer these beings observed the earthly creatures, the more they felt a desire to experience what they could not in their own realm.

  Though not mortal in an earthly sense, their fascination with fragile mortals became a source of such profound ecstasy and yet such loneliness that they were swept down into that ascent and combined with it’s energy. They became a new being. Once inside flesh, they forgot they were once of air and fire and purely soul.

  Others were sent to wake them from their forgetfulness and yet... Marai knew the Children of Stone had just fed back to the old man one of the Kemet versions of creation, without naming his gods in particular. Were the Children of Stone saying they were the gods, when they had denied it before? Did they have to say it?

  By this time Marai was scribbling letters with such a blind fury that some of the attendants would later swear they could not even see his hands. His left shoulder ached a little. He really didn’t care if the children were telling great truths or spinning a wild tale through him. He understood his mission was only through them. He was the conduit of truth. He understood intimately that truth is often perceived as lies when it is feared or if its message can’t be controlled. A low, guttural laugh welled up in Marai’s throat when he sensed what his hand was writing:

  Poor Humans!

  They thirst to their downfall

  To be all-knowing and godly,

  Just as the bright souls of wisdom and truth once fell

  Thirsting for physical things and fleshly separations from one another...

  To be something one is not…

  That is the real hunger, never filled

  Reflecting on their own folly, the children praised humans who led simple lives, because, in those creatures, spirit and flesh seemed more closely knit. It was another reason why, in the end, they had chosen Marai to be their messenger.

  With that, the writing shifted to the conventional pictographic form. It slowed.

  So say we

  To eyes that humanly see

  Be open and it will be opened to you

  Touch love and you will be touched by love

  Be Love and you will be...love...ed

  Marai opened his eyes and putting down the reed, rubbed his hands and cracked his knuckles. He saw Hordjedtef slumped in his chair again, staring petulantly at the first page laid out over a board so he could hold it closer to his eyes. Stunned, the sojourner realized by the position of the sun that he had been writing for most of the afternoon. It was actually near sunset.

  The inspector priest was bent over the second, third, and fourth sheets which had been stretched out beside the pool.

  “Code?” The elder’s voice twisted itself into an insulted, higher pitched squeak. “There’s nothing on this page but number symbols and nonsense syllables, written backwards and to the side! Do you dare to vex me with a secret code...after I have gone out of my way to house, clothe and feed you? I’ve even put aside much of my governmental duties to our wondrous king, even misdirected him about my health so I might spend all of this time attending to your schooling...” he sputtered. “Can you even read it? I’ll bet you can’t!” He tossed aside the cloth page so that it landed near the other sheets spread in front of the inspector.

  “Uhhh…Great One” The younger priest whispered breathlessly, almost unaware of his master’s complaints. “Look at this! This is simply brilliant! Look! See how the writing is formed. It starts as our informal accountant’s script, but it’s mixed with enough Kinaanhkt and other scripts that it could be easily read by the learned ones of many lands.” The inspector grinned, stunned with joy. “Is this not the essence of wisdom and truth? Great Djehuti does intend for there to be no restriction on the teaching of knowledge? That all may come to study?” And, see...” The priest continued, positively enchanted. “Look how there’s an overall pattern, like a picture that emerges from a child’s puzzle.” The younger priest began to arrange the sheets so that the image and wording flowed in a more logical fashion.

  “I see.” The elder smiled, but Marai grinned even wider, realizing the old man didn’t see any such thing. The younger priest had deciphered the writing almost on sight. With careful study, he would eventually be able to read all of it with ease.

  Suddenly it dawned on the elder Hordjedtef that the spell he had cast while his elder teacher Djedi ailed and the way he had assumed the magician’s form so that he shifted it into his own aged form from the future, had been nothing more than another step along an already laid path. At the same moment the elder prince realized this, the sojourner sensed everything he thought, because both men were still in a heightened state of awareness.

  Marai now understood he had not fallen into a longer regenerative sleep because of a crippling or delaying curse levied by a jealous prince. He and the women slept by the plan of the Children of Stone so they would waken when the younger priest was mature enough in his own training to preside over the protection of the secrets they imparted. The one known as Prince Wserkaf was the intended disciple of Djed-Djedi. The Great Djedi had known that, but knowing his own bodily form had come to it’s end, he prayed that somehow the Ta-Ntr could make a remedy for this. They did this, by extending Marai’s time of sleep.

  Marai stood and stretched, sighing and weary from this revelation and an entire afternoon of sitting cramped and cross-legged with a writing board on his knees. When he turned to look at the work he and the children had wrought, he stared dumbfounded for a moment, then began to cackle obscenely. He staggered back to the chair beside the pool, almost falling into it, barely sat and began to almost howl with laughter until he wept.

  Hordjedtef must have believed all of the missing keys in the golden scrolls had been spilled out before him, yet barely a scrap of information had been divulged. It should have been the first key of a million.

  What is so funny? Prince Hordjedtef thought. Has the stress of being in such a long trance caused you to take leave of your senses? He rose and wobbled to Marai to touch him above his ears so he could become calm.

  Marai weakly waved him away, trying on his own to regain his composure. In moments he succeeded, but still giggled, red-faced in delight.

  The younger priest suddenly discovered something. The graceful characters formed a definite pattern that was hidden until the pages were laid out in a square and viewed from a distance. That had been Marai’s vantage point when he stood a moment before because he was taller. The inspector quite irreverently poked Hordjedtef’s arm to get the old man’s attention.

  “Ow... watch yourself...” He snapped at first, rubbing his arm as the inspector buried his own face in his hands and gently shook his head as if to say:

  Oh no...Not that...I don’t... I can’t...

  “I see it...I see it...” Hordjedtef fussed. “It looks like a boat pit, and yet...” The elder priest frowned incredulously, studying the combined image carefully.

  “Or...” He continued his half-lame hobble around the laid out pages. “Perhaps you’ve drawn up a Tyet for us…Menstrual blood of Aset?” He stared warily out of the side of his face at Marai, wondering why an obvious symbol of life and regeneration which resembled a knotted sash would be used instead of some symbol in homage of knowledge The Lotus, the Flower of Life or even the Djed Pillar?

  “No, no, no...It’s the...” The younger priest’s face colored, “Creator’s...” He paused, having lost his own breath. He was wondering what sorcery might have blinded his master from seeing the obvious representation as well as the beauty of the symbolism behind it.. The ovoid design did resemble the brick-lined pits dug into the earth along
side the kings’ Eternal House that held his disassembled earthly boat. It was buried there whenever a king passed into his other life, waiting to sail him to the stars and back.

  Marai braced himself in the chair again, tittering, then laughing aloud once more as more sheets, twelve in all, were placed beside each other. When they were in place, a flowing, singular image of what at first resembled a royal boat pit, and secondly the Tyet, for the goddess of life and fertility, was revealed. On scrutiny, the image was a lovingly displayed woman’s vulva opening like a lovely blossom...waiting...

  Hordjedtef stared aghast. At first, he was uncomprehending, then unbelieving. Marai wanted to lie on the ground and weep for mercy, while the younger priest did all he could to hide his own stunned delight

  It was a classic indication of knowledge to use such an image. After all, the children had just spilled out a dozen pages on the ensouling of man into flesh through a love of sensual things, expounding on how compassion creates love then creates the essence of life, returning wisdom and ultimate return to the stars.

  The old man moved slowly around the laid out work, convincing himself with each hobbling step that Marai was, in fact, thoroughly mad in addition to having forgotten where he was, who he was with, and what he had been asked to do.

  “Impudent...” He muttered, “You think this is some kind of a joke?” He turned, his expression suddenly hurt. “So we’ve been waiting all of these years for a picture of what any of the schooled wise know already?” He seethed. “And you claim innocence as you were guided?” He drew himself up. “I doubt you know anything at all of the sacredness of any of this! You sat there drawing and writing... violating the ways and numbers...the sacred...” The elder sputtered but, in doing so, betrayed that he was more humiliated than scandalized. The younger priest had solved the meaning of the puzzle so quickly that he had he had actually explained it to his senior. The elder prince had no choice but to trivialize Marai’s work.

  “I think this pattern comes from your loins and not your soul at all! How could it be known to one of your kind? A scant sixteen day fast from your women and that’s all that comes from your hand? I’m shamed for you! If you want to study further, you simply must stop mocking the sacred in such a way.” The elder priest paced and scolded. “Bad as my damned Raemkai...Worse!”

  Marai paused, raising one eyebrow.

  Raemkai? And another name drops, old man? Someone else you’re not proud of? A vague growling sounded behind the sojourner. He turned but saw no dog. Is that it’s name? A dog?

  Wserkaf continued, unaware of Marai’s thoughts. He moved around the writing, reading and translating with awestruck delight. The elder continued scolding.

  “To contemplate in the sacred temples requires stricter purity than the bathing you’ve been taught...” Hordjedtef went on. “I am glad I elected to train you here after all…and not in Khmenu.” He stood over Marai, red-faced. He would have been shouting if he hadn’t been hissing through his teeth.

  “But, Great One...” The younger spoke with his jaw still wonder-dropped, trying to ease his mentor. The inspector couldn’t comprehend the rage he witnessed in his usually dry and reserved teacher. “I believe he does know. See how the words of the work speak of creation and procreation of life-giving and eternity. How wonderful this is! It’s not just about the act of sexual congress as you might first think... See this passage here... how it ends?” The inspector bent and indicated as he read aloud:

  “Be Love and you will be love ed.’”

  Hordjedtef blinked, then stared at the writing. He frowned.

  “Wse. Contain yourself...” The elder snapped under his breath. Still nonplussed, he marveled at the smoothness and the incredible artistry...The letters and symbols crowded close in the dark areas and stretched out over the light places creating contour of a style so lifelike it almost had the scent of a woman in her heat. Maybe it even did... All the while, it explained mystical love that transcended the procreative act of the animal, but in humans of an elevated nature could approach, touch, and become god through the oneness with this divine creative energy. He understood, suddenly.

  The old man composed himself, stood straighter and looked calmly up at Marai.

  “Very well, my sojourning disciple, you have proven something to me…I know my assistant will start to crow over this, though...” He shot another dirty look at the younger priest “and it will be even more of a distinct departure from the usual ritual of initiation, but you seem already fully trained enough for your trials. There is really nothing further for me to teach you at all! Nothing that wouldn’t constitute a waste of precious time for both of us. You have learned to ‘Unlock’ your own self this day. I daresay you always knew this skill, but needed one such as myself to make testimony of it.” His ancient slit eyes glittered with another feverish red spark. “Your Ta-Ntr children have already prepared you for what comes next, too, I presume?”

  Marai had regained enough control of himself to merely giggle.

  “If there’s anything more the Ntr wish to unfold to you, it will come out at that time. You will access it then as you re-learn to walk with them. This time, based on what I have taught you, you will have the good sense to remember all the things they have to tell you.” He turned and requested an additional meal be set for the inspector, then said no more.

  The inspector and a sesh had been carefully rolling up the scrolls and inserting them into prepared ceramic tubes for further study. Later they would be re-written on more permanent papyrus. When The younger priest overheard what his mentor said, he paused, as if profoundly shocked. For a moment, it seemed as if he would say something, but he remained silent and continued to put the writing and the equipment away.

  “Uh Highness...” Marai started to speak, gathering his wits, but the elder priest was going with his attendants to his private suite.

  Oh...Now I’ve made him really angry...I think we all have... Marai thought to himself, half-confiding in his internal link with the Children of Stone. The inspector hurried with the work, then dismissed the returning sesh and the other men in attendance.

  “There’s something not right...” Marai started to ask the younger priest to explain, but the inspector jammed his finger to his own lips to show him how important silence was going to be for next passage of time. He had guessed correctly. The high priest was not merely angry, he was furious.

  “You should wash before you sup...” The younger priest cautioned. “And rest in the room provided for you.”

  Marai read the worry in the priest’s face as his thoughts whispered.

  Later...If I can...I’ ll talk him down...He’s just shocked you understood as much as you did. He didn’t expect... Wse’s thoughts whispered, then stopped short.

  Hordjedtef was motioning for him to come along as soon as he accompanied Marai to the guest quarters where he had lived since he arrived.

  Servants were waiting for the sojourner as if everything that happened in the afternoon had been thoroughly staged and planned. Whenever Marai attempted to speak to either of the two manservants charged with bathing him and oiling him, he was met with blank stares. So much bustling went on as they prepared him for the evening feast that the big man really didn’t have time to contemplate his situation.

  He knew Hordjedtef acted angry, but he wanted to believe the man wasn’t truly even mildly irritated at him. Marai hoped the illusion of fury at him had been just another part of his overall game. Whatever his plan was, Marai was sure the younger priest wasn’t in full compliance. He had almost seen them argue in front of him. Perhaps, Marai thought, the three of them could become more agreeable over supper. The sojourner emerged from his room, then stood quietly until the ever present attendants led him to the plaza for the evening meal.

  As the men, Hordjedtef, Wserkaf and Marai ate, the elder spoke of many things. The events of the day or his new student’s ability to write were never mentioned. Marai never spoke to any guests when he reclined at dining
with his teacher. Tonight was no exception.

  “Wse” or “Lord Inspector of the Ways” as he was more properly called at the evening meal, related some of the royal business that had come from the king via the vizier. Because he had entered right before Marai began to write, the message had never been delivered to his elder. Prince Hordjedtef’s attendance was being requested at the palace in the morning if he felt “well” enough. If not, the king was prepared to visit toward the evening of the business day.

  Marai raised his eyebrow again on hearing that. He knew that the old man was guarding him away from His Majesty, so he wasn’t surprised at all when Hordjedtef officially stated to his scribe to send written word that unless his health turned much worse over the passage of the night, he would present himself early the following day.

  Turning to Marai, Hordjedtef added that, after the morning light meal, he would be asked to return to his guest room where he had been lodged for two weeks. He would speak to no one for that entire day, refreshing himself with only purest boiled and triple-filtered water mixed with a little elixir of fermented fruits for drink, and a dry bread crust for food. During this “vigil” he would contemplate the mission on which he had been sent by the Ta-Ntr and begin to review his life. In the evening, he would be hooded and taken to a secret place for his journey into the realm of the gods.

  The inspector looked stricken enough to jump out of his skin, but remained silent for the rest of the meal. Neither priest allowed Marai into their thoughts. They were guarding their own sentiments from each other as well. When the meal had finished, the elder stood, and turned to his inspector without even attempting to speak to Marai or read his expression.

  “Take him, Son of my heart. Your duty is to ask the designated questions of him...” Hordjedtef’s floor length dark dining robe swirled along the floor as he moved to his stone chair. His back was still turned away from the sojourner, as if Marai had suddenly become invisible. Beckoning for his wives, now that the meal had finished, he asked them to have their maids set extra food and dessert. There would be pretty honey cakes, pickled fruits and sweet wine. The younger wife brought her harp, so she could create soothing music for everyone. Marai was quietly ushered away without even an invocation, or “pleasant evening” from the elder.