Sands of Time
Page 3
Slowly, I nodded, understanding what I must now do.
I looked back to him. His deep brown eyes were so full of ambiguity.
"I have never regretted what I am," said I. "Who I am, or what I must do to survive. Until now."
I stepped from the portico, out of Jabari’s life, and disappeared into the angry, swirling sands of the Sahara.
~~~
The next two scrolls, also findings by Dr. Brumble, have been determined to date from the 20th Dynasty, though later than previous entries. Date approximates to about 1080 B.C. And references within the entry itself prove this to be true. This papyrus was found in what was later discovered to be the grave of Jabari of Giza (though this document was found far from Giza in a small village cemetery outside of Abydos near the Abydos Temple). The man within the grave, mummified in a naturally preserved state, was determined to be approximately 72 years of age at the time of death. This mummy is believed to be the remains of Kesi’s husband. To date, no remains proving to be that of Kesi of Giza have been found, but subsequent discoveries may offer an explanation.
~~~
Entry Three
My heart is heavy and my soul lonely. This night I lost my beloved Jabari to a mortal death. And yet I live on and look no different than the day we met. So long ago.
In the fifty years we remained bonded in love and marriage, Jabari and I saw our trials, dealt with our adversities. However, from the moment I informed him of my family's departure from this planet, he chose to keep me within his life.
For the longest while on that night when I hurried off into a sandstorm, I felt sure he had rejected me, and straight home I ran until the dank and musty odor of the inner tombs greeted my senses. The hallways and chambers were empty. All had left and I made haste in packing so I would not be left behind, despondent and alone forever.
As I readied for departure, tears tickled my cheeks and my heart ached with longing. I had not had time to inform Father I would be joining him and the other Pet Mer, the half-breeds like myself that chose to travel on, and a few humans, lovers, children and even friends of our people. I had said my good-byes to them all. But Jabari I had not; I had merely rushed off into the swirling mists of dust, certain we would have no closure.
However, as I slunk from the bowels of the chambers I would see no more, the echoes of past years, eras, generations, happy memories of family and love, worship and even tears, pain and abuse, dissipated into a future unknown.
I wasted small time in my reveries. I grabbed what little material possessions held true value to me; a few pieces of jewelry, a Lapis and shell bracelet Jabari had once given me as a gift, some clothing, and moved swiftly back through the aisles, carved forever in Hieroglyphs with the musings and tales of my family and the desert people. Our lives in this place reduced to mere scribbles within the stones. And as well these writings, personal only to myself, which I have kept since only a child. They have remained silent but for my voice alone. And they shall, like the others, be hidden away in a safe location, as proof one day of our existence here; a great race of gods chased off by the greed and fear of humans.
We almost ran into one another, and when I stepped into the night I thought at first he was merely a dream before my eyes. Dirty and disheveled, Jabari did not stop until his arms were wrapped around me tightly.
"I do not care what it is you are," he said breathlessly, "or whether the truth is a lie or the lie is truth. All I know is that without you in my life I cannot go on."
From there, we held one another and never let go. And I gazed over my love’s shoulder as I held him, at all the tiny lights within the vast universe, some mere shooting stars, some unmoved, and yet several others moved together upwards to disappear and become as one with the emptiness of space. My heart at that moment both wept and rejoiced.
Jabari and I did not live without means, for my family had left me plenty in which to exist well. Pharaohs knew my name and celebrations existed in which myself and Jabari were invited. I became as the other wives of wealth and favor. Managing our household servants within a home constructed to fit my nocturnal lifestyle, keeping me safe from the desert sun in day.
Few remembered from whence I came. They knew of the tales, the Pet Mer who had once graced the lands, but as all things that fall from sight, the truth became rumor, which then became myth. And I just another lady of Egypt, albeit only seen under the watchful eye of Nebt-het.
As Jabari aged and I did not, we relocated to various villages to start anew. My kind had fallen into disfavor, just as my father had long predicted. No longer was I able to feed from willing humans, as none existed who remembered the reverence my family once held.
In this area, Jabari aided in finding me adequate sustenance, in keeping others from learning my secret. His request was that I never ask the source of the human blood he acquired. I complied, grateful, but my suspicions never waned. As a revered artist, Jabari held the favor of many pharaohs and this position allowed certain privileges, many of which I was not privy. And so, I asked no questions.
But, now he is gone. With my heightened senses, I saw the sickness greying his dark skin, day after day, and I smelled the inevitability of death on him. Yet still I lived the lie that he would exist with me forever.
Forever.
As we were never able to bear heir of our own, and I was unsuccessful in my attempts to bring us children, it has remained the two of us all these years. But still, Jabari never complained. We filled our lives with duty and work, and many majestic felines shared our estate.
But what do I do now? Jabari's body remains within the house as I write this. I am to mourn, but to sling mud upon myself and prance about in a state of half undress is not a manner in which my people mourned. I am of the Egyptian folk, yes, but I am also of the Pet Mer first and foremost.
And so I hired mourners to perform the rituals known to this land, to dance about the streets in funerary states of undress, the earth covering their bodies, while I remain at Jabari's side until such time he will be off to be prepared for an Egyptian death rite.
He was of this land and so I honor his wishes for traditional funerary ritual. But I cannot be there. Long ago, his family asked of my whereabouts, wanted to see us together. But, he had grown older and I still as they remembered. My secret he could not reveal, and so he informed them I was stricken by illness that prevented my travel. Only several years on did he inform them I had passed of my illness. And so to humans I was dead, yet I remained very much alive.
~~~
Journal Entry 4
The Funeral
This has been the most difficult day of my existence, even adding to the departure of my family into the stars. The funerary procession reminded me of what I have lost and what will never again be in my life. From my hiding place away from the sun, I watched the oxen-drawn carriage/hearse. All around the somber sounds of the musicians who preceded the procession reached me.
The aroma of earth and of myrrh, ointments and the Juniper oils of mummification reminded me of my loss. I placed my head on my knee. Humans would not catch such subtle scents, but to me the overpowering odor made it all too obvious that a new chapter in my life had begun.
One that came all too quickly.
It will be time to move on now, away from Egypt, the only home I have ever known. I will no longer have my husband's influence and wisdom to keep me fed. Will the leaders of this new age understand my plight? Of this I hold doubt. Jabari never revealed his secrets from within the chambers of the pharaohs. I cannot go to him, hoping for a resolution. And I cannot hope for the trust of the pharaohs any longer, not with the bickering that has clashed within the royal families, and when the tomb raiders abound, punishment is swift and I would surely be exposed. I can no longer hide with the crumbling structures that once held safety.
Within the week, I shall pack what belongings I hold of value and travel on, to where I do not yet know.
~~~
“The Alchemist”
Entry One entered on hemp yet written in the hand of ancient Egypt. Student findings believed these texts to correlate with others previously discovered by Dr. Jonathon Brumble and thus sent them on. Found deep within an excavated waterfall cave in Hunan Province, China, near the Yangtze River. Circa approximately 10 B.C.
He speaks as if we are a blight. Yet, what we are is no disease. Nor is it a gift. His name is Yin. I found him one cold night when the Chinese New Year festival had begun. Above me the night sky was lit with colors streaming down and returning to earth as sparks and ash, coalesced with the cheers and screams of the thousands of humans that surrounded me. Red dragons and colored lanterns floated by, flickering in an eerie glow of candlelight. I was accustomed to being around people, as from the time I left Egypt, I had traveled to many densely populated places.
Yet that night I felt crowded, my mind whirled and a curious sensation overcame me. I pulled myself from the scent of smoke and swarm of human bodies and melted into the shadow of an empty doorway. As my body came against the door, it creaked, a slight sound barely heard. I had not the intention of entering, but once again I was drawn—a pull that goes beyond explanation found my hand pushing the door open.
"Nihao?" I called out, the only variation of the Chinese greeting that I knew.
My mangled attempt at a foreign language was met with silence.
I lurked deeper into the dwelling, which was quite large by the standards of most houses in the city region. As my sight is quite good in the night, I was able easily to see the intricate detail of wood and stone, and the murals and paintings sprawled throughout the home as I padded through vast hallways and into a center courtyard. The yard itself, situated as the home's centre, as most in this country are, was fairly deplete of life. Several small trees planted in juxtaposition to one another lined the mid section and around the perimeter stood various bushes and small flowering plants meticulously tended despite the chilly air.
I moved toward the southern portion of the home. Most doors within the dwelling stood open, their nearly bare rooms making me wonder if anyone resided here at all, and why everything inside me lured me deeper.
I followed the instinct, slinking along to wherever it strengthened, moving away from its weakest points, until I came to a large set of double doors, painted red and boasted with elaborate carvings of symbols and animals. Whatever, or whomever, had lured me there was beyond this door. This I knew with utmost certainty.
I placed a palm against the smooth wood of the raised carving of a tiger ready to strike. The door opened mutely.
I smelled it before I could see where it originated—the scent of human blood. A pang of hunger nearly halted me with its intensity. It had been a week since I had fed, as humans willing to feed blood drinkers had by this time become quite rare.
Movement, ever so slight, stirred within the darkest corner of the room, empty but for a wood bed that dwelt within that same corner. A moan issued, and I moved closer to the source of the delicious aroma. Someone lay on the bed and, though the deepest dark I had ever experienced surrounded me, I easily found her by the delectable aroma spilled from flesh, and the diminutive moan uttered from her throat.
She wore a simple blue silk dress that rode up on slender thighs, hands and bare feet bound to the posts of the wooden platform on which she lay. Her head moved from one side to the other as if she dreamt the most terrible of dreams, but her eyes were open and she gaped at me as I neared.
Her lips parted. She seemed to want to speak, to tell me what had happened to her. But her voice was mute. I needed to find the source of the blood I smelled. I was so very famished and in need of sustenance.
I lowered myself to sit beside the bound woman and bent close to her, to listen. It was then I noticed the small punctures that marred the perfect flesh of her throat. Startled, I leapt to my feet. Someone had fed on her and recently. And that someone was still here, that was what my mind sensed, what lured me into this home.
One of my own kind.
So long ago my people left this earth for a new life amongst the stars. Where they are now, where they went, I do not know. After Jabari passed, I traveled this large place. So many lands, so many faces and events, I cannot keep them all within my mind. But of my own race, I have seen none. Until now.
He was here, somewhere. And I was uninvited in his home with this girl on his bed, a meal or an attempt at creating a child of his own? I should have left well enough alone. But, I needed to know.
Within the last several centuries, I heard of others that met with success in creating the ‘children’ I wanted so desperately yet so often failed in my attempts. And so, I have been seeking them, either those left behind or their children, I cared not. Now, it appeared I may have found both. I heard a name once. Yin. And this name brought me here to China.
Throughout the years, I have discovered I have the ability to manipulate certain minds into telling me what I wish to know. I am not sure how, and I have met no other with such an ability, but I rarely use it. This was, however, such an occasion that I felt it necessary. Perhaps I could extend my reach into her mind, give this mute girl a voice with my power. I required light, however, so this human may see me.
I lowered myself once again beside her, and when I did she began once more to moan. In her silent way she pleaded me not to leave her there. I assured her I was going nowhere, though once again my Chinese was anything other than mediocre at best. She must have understood for she nodded then fell silent.
It did not take long to find several small lanterns, ready for lighting in lieu of the Chinese New Year. I lit one with available flint and carried it to the bed. Setting it on the slab by the human's head, I proceeded to look into her face, flickering a pale red and orange in the slight lamplight. The whites of her eyes were clear around the dark brown orbs, making her fear apparent. Black hair like silk splayed on the small pillow beneath her head. I could not help my awe. What an heir she would make; beautiful with the eyes of innocence only a child could possess. I wanted right there to make her my own. But, I reminded myself, I had failed for centuries, and to waste such a beauty would be a shame indeed.
And so, to keep my mind from the aroma of her blood and the need to bring her in as my own child, I peered longingly into those orbs of depth and sorrow.
"What happened to you, please tell me?" I said, in broken Chinese.
Again, her lips parted, but no words came forth, merely the same whimper as I had heard previous. I looked deeper, extending my mental grasp into her mind. "Who did this to you?"
As her mouth opened, I waited, coaxing her to speak.
"Leave her be!" The voice came from behind me. I rose and spun.
Though little light from the small lamps could reach across the room, I saw him clearly. And I knew what he was. His waist-length black hair draped over his shoulders and down his back, and shone as if he stood in moonlight, his dark eyes curious as he stared with crossed arms waiting for an answer. This was Yin. I was sure of it now. The long silk Chinese dragon robe whispered as he moved a mere step toward me.
"You are Yin?" I asked.
"Step forward," he requested without answering my question.
I did as he asked, taking one step into the diffused light.
Yin drew a deep breath, dropping his arms to his sides. "I know who you are. Kesi. Am I correct?" He spoke this time in the old Egyptian of our fathers.
I nodded once. "You know me? I do not know you." It was much more comfortable speaking in my native tongue.
"Apparently you do as you are in my home and you speak my name."
"I heard of you only recently. I have searched the world seeking more of us who remained behind—and for sustenance."
Yin sighed contritely. "There are few who allow us to feed willingly any longer."
I glanced to the girl on the bed before speaking. "And her? She does not look willing to me."
He paused and appeared to have a thought before speaking once mor
e. "Kesi, come with me."
At that he turned and walked from the room. I was not accustomed to being treated as a subservient, following obediently when one simply commands it. But, my curiosity won and I pushed ego aside to follow.
He led me down a long hall of paper and bamboo, and stopped at a locked room. From around his neck he pulled a silk cord on which dangled a key he used to unlock the door. He pushed the heavy wood-carved door open and moved to light a lantern. I did not take my eyes from him, he moved like a sigh on a light breeze. Surely, I thought, he was more Pet Mer than human.
And then the lantern illuminated the room and I took a step back from what I saw. The room was bathed in white, but in its centre stood a table of teak, shining sleek in the lamplight. Atop the table a tray of the most sinister tools I had ever seen, and beside that bottles that were filled with various liquids and dry herbs.
"Are you an alchemist?" I asked. "Or a healer?" I hoped he would admit to one or the other, as whatever else came to mind was too unpleasant a thought.
"Both I would suppose," he said. "I think I have found the cure!" His voice rose with exhilaration.
"Cure for what?" My curiosity was surely peaked. His answer, however, took me by surprise.
"For us," he said simply.
Confusion trampled my mind. "I do not understand."
"For what we are. Or more simply, what we can create." He spoke as if I should understand his words. My confused expression and the slight shake of my head urged him to give more information. "You have no problem with this...this existence? Do you not wish there was a treatment of sorts? A way to be completely human?"