Since the beginning of time, there were kingdoms defined the history of humanity; one of the most beautiful civilizations was found in the sands of Egypt.

Then there was a Pharaoh named Akmenrah who ruled the upper and lower regions of Egypt. Nobles and kings of the realm gave respect to him. As a great ruler of Egypt, he imposed bondage as an agreement of loyalty. To honor it, the royal families must provide one of their daughters to be one of his concubines. Therefore a harem was formed as a bond, not only the women would reproduce, but it was also a sign of loyalty of their families to the Pharaoh. Soon the great Akhmenrah became obsessed with gold and treasures. He invaded lands, defeated kingdoms until his empire grew to be more powerful. When he decided to retire, he was already fifty years old. Pharaoh Akmenrah married the beautiful Princess of Asmatala; named Meshkenet. Her eyes were dark as twilight and she had a soothing voice that was so pleasant to hear. At the age of sixteen years old, Egypt had a Queen.

Yet, being powerful was not enough, the mighty Pharaoh needed a son to the throne, but his seeds had failed to blossom inside the Queen’s womb. Therefore the kingdoms within the rule of Akhmenrah presented their daughters to the Pharaoh. There was a chosen concubine from the land of Samaria ruled by King Kesekth who had a daughter named Femi, an Egyptian word which means, to love. Princess Femi embodied light hazel eyes, rosy cheeks, soft skin, and chestnut-colored hair. Whenever the sun’s rays strike on it, the color of her hair became radiant. She had a distinct feature that always in her beauty. Princess Femi bore a daughter from the Pharaoh. She named her Nefertari, which means beautiful in an Egyptian word. Nefertari surpassed the beauty of her mother, endowed with silky black hair and porcelain skin. Slender and tall like her father, and her eyes were light brown like the sunrise.

Ancient Egypt consisted of gods and goddesses. Each one of them possessed unique powers and symbols. One of them was Horus, the god of the sky and the god of vengeance. He was a relevant divinity of Egyptian gods, he portrayed a hawk-headed man. Eagle and falcon were his symbols. A deity chose to be served by Nefertari.

Femi preferred the deity named Thoth, the god of wisdom. Also known as Djehuty, Tahuti or Tehuti. He was the god of writing, knowledge, speaking, inventions, and moon. Femi’s headdress bore a symbol of a lunar disk or a crescent, and a dog-headed baboon. All these forms symbolized the attributes of Thoth.

It was a scorching afternoon in the whole kingdom, the heat from the desert permeated through the sands. Not even a wisp of cloud to the sky could not soften the unblinking rays of the sun. The desert animals took shelter in the shadows of the pillars. The air was thick and hazy. Hot temperature from the sun passed through the skins of those waiting for the great Pharaoh. The elites surrounded by slaves who were fanning and holding umbrellas provided them comfort from the unforgiving heat.

Rigid discipline and determination against the hot weather made the troops stood patiently in the desert, together with majestic chariots lined in a row. A thousand soldiers marched forward while the royal families watched them from their seats. The Queen observed them from afar. Her head was adorned with a golden headdress with golden bracelets on her wrists and her white dress rendered exquisite linen, ornamented with beads that complimented her slender figure. Queen Meshkenet, at last, the seeds of Pharaoh grew inside her womb and bore an heir for the throne. She held her one-year-old son on her lap as they waited for the ceremonial parade to start.

A gust of wind passed through the crowd as if giving a signal to begin the ceremony, the soldiers finally blew the trumpets. Followed by the hands of the hundred slaves pounding rigorously against the drums, allowing the thunderous rumble pulsate through the sands. Along with the arena, a massive shrine stood in two pillars with torches on each side. Giant statues of the Gods surrounded the temple with the group of priests kneeling at the altar.

Hamar, the high priest from Thebes, came out from the temple. His body displayed a tunic embodied in gold; he wore gilded jewelry as a symbol of the Gods. Stretching his hand to the sky, he gazed at the heavens with his kohl painted eyes and spoke in a loud, clear voice. “People of Egypt. The gods have favored us on this day. We are here to witness the shower of blessings and fulfill the wishes coming from the living God. The great Akmenrah!” His voice resounded with pride, he lowered his head to pay respects to the statues.

The booming sound from the drums continued across the desert, the slaves beating endlessly in a synchronized rhythm, it was loud and thunderous yet it had a distinct crescendo of subtlety and tone. The Pharaoh arrived at the temple. The place slowly became quiet after the priest prayed and stopped the slaves from beating the drums. Everyone bowed their heads to the great ruler of Egypt. Akhmenrah carried his symbols on his chest. The crook and flail, the power used by Pharaoh. It was an attribute of the god named Osiris until it became the emblem of Pharaonic authority. The shepherd’s crook stood for kingship and the flail for the fertility of the land. Pharaoh Akhmenra was arrayed in beautiful linen aprons or kilts, known as a shendyt. It displayed his power, prestige, and association with the gods. The kilts were covered in exotic accordion pleating and wrapped counterclockwise around the Pharaoh’s body. On his feet, he wore an ornamented sandals made of feathers.

The people knelt to pay tribute to him. The great Pharaoh bore a stern expression in his angular face, his hands in position across his chest as he grasped the symbols of power. He commenced to speak, his voice traveled in the desert, “The Pharaoh came to you, the male God of the second cycle of the two lands, God who rules with the arm, Amun-Ra, master of the two feathers. Great by the crown upon his head, King of the Gods who is inside Karnak, Amun who rules more than all the Gods. They do not take their backs from you in their names of the Gods.” His tone reverberated across the temple; he bowed his head, adorned with a blue crown called Khepresh. Draped in a sapphire cloth of leather headdress and decorated with bronze and gold disc. The azure top was a symbol in battles and ceremonial occasions.

“I, the living God. The messenger of the gods. I declare this day to honor our great god, Ra, the sun god. I will decree the offerings to begin...this is your Pharaoh. Heed my voice, follow my message, honor the gods and let us all be gracious of the glory to the sun. I, the pharaoh bestows the beginning of this day,” The sunlight illuminated his craggy face, wrinkles bored intensely into his skin as he spoke to the crowd with his powerful words. He lifted his arms towards the sky; the slaves pounded the drums; combined by the trumpets echoing across the sands. Under the heat that spread over the place, the spectacle of blood was about to start. Every beat and rumble of the drums conceived a throbbing pain in the heart of the young princess. Nefertari turned her eyes away from the arena but Femi sensed her discomfort. The mother held her daughter’s chin and raised to meet her eyes. “What bother’s you, my child?”

Nefertari bored her eyes at her mother, the corner of her eye crinkled when she forced a smile. “Mother, the sight gave tears to my heart. Why should I behold the fight? I’m your only daughter witnessing the blood be spilled. My other siblings were inside the palace; they were dancing and singing to please the gods,” she pleaded in a soft voice. Femi clutched her hand to ease her fear.

A brisk wind suddenly swept the desert; allowing the sands to twirl within the air. It looked like smoke, blurring the view. Nevertheless, an enthralling image within swirling sands began to appear. Chariots drove by brave Egyptian generals vibrated on the ground. Thundering hooves from the horses signaled danger, the rhythmic pulsation from the ground had conveyed a sheer terror. With the stallions galloping around the field, their manes strode in graceful movement, and the soldiers pulled the reins to stop on their feet. It was a sight to behold from the grim nature of the special event.

Three men and a woman were brought at the arena. A black cloth hid their faces; it resembled a veil for the bride instead of white; the color portrayed the symbol of death. The men had been accused of robbery, rape, murder and the woman was guilty of adultery. They stood at the center of the desert, with the blaring sun to guide their impending death.

The priests chanted a prayer in a monotonous unison. “Hail to thee, Amun-Ra, Lord of the thrones of the earth, the oldest existence, ancient of heaven, support of all things. Chief of the gods, lord of truth; father to the gods, maker of men and beasts and herbs; maker of all things above and below; Deliverer of the sufferer and oppressed, judging the poor; Lord of wisdom, lord of mercy; most loving, opener of every eye, source of joy, in whose goodness the gods rejoice, thou whose name hidden. Hail to thee from all creatures from every land, from the height of heaven, from the depth below the sea. The spirits thou hast made extol thee, saying, welcome to thee, father of the fathers of the gods; we worship thy spirit, which is in us.” The priest bowed their head with their eyes closed, then smoke coming out from the brimstone emanated a sulfuric aroma. It passed to their senses, a silent reply from the divinity.

The charioteers advanced towards the offenders. They carried a long whip; lashing at lightning speed. “Ahhh!!” A man darted from the ruthless straps, but the horse’s hooves trampled him. A spear ruthlessly pierced the woman on the spine; her blood sprinkled on the sand. Another offender attempted to survive, he runs with his life, but the other soldier threw another spear, it flew straight to his direction, made its way like a rocketship with tremendous speed, puncturing his spleen. “Hah!” The man screamed in pain and stumbled in the sands. Then one soldier slashed the sword on the thigh, breaking his bone as he swung his sword and it sounded like a broken twig torn in half.

“AAHHHHHH!” A wailing cry from the helpless criminal resonated. Their blood spurted like a fountain, showering across the sand. The wheels of the carriage developed a sheer horror on the young princess’s skin. Nefertari shuddered from the echoes, she stared with an open mouth, uncertain whether to breath or scream.

Femi grasped her daughter’s cheeks. She smiled between the shrieking agony lulling in their ears. “Look into my eyes, listen to my voice.” She whispered a lullaby to the young princess. “Don’t look...don’t turn.” Femi squeezed Nefertari’s hand as she sings then she guided her daughter to turn her eyes in front and watched the horrors unfold. Nefertari blinked, but she managed to lock her sight.

The humidity from the wind brushed their faces; whispering air danced within the sand. A gush of blood trickled from the whip. Then a soldier riding on a horse galloped his way, the edge of his sword darted in the air; with one swift it landed a vigorous blow to the captive’s neck. Scarlet blood oozed down on the blade; a lifeless head soared into the sky. Nefertari turned away her gaze and closed her eyes with a terrifying sensation coming from her skin as if a thousand spiders crawling all over her body. She imagined herself losing her head when she saw it flying through the air. It made her shiver down to her neck; the scene had tortured every bit of her flesh.

Femi squeezed her daughter’s cold and clammy hand then continued to sing. “Fair child hear your mother’s voice and take her love to your heart.”

“AMUN RA!!” The woman cried in pure despair, crawling on the sand with wounded limbs.

“HAVE MERCY ON US!!” a desperate outcry resounded from the weeping prisoners.

Nefertari turned her face forward and opened her eyes. She saw the woman begged for her life in the midst of scorching sun. The woman knelt on the sand and screamed for mercy, but the whip answered her pleas.

“Don’t be scared, my fair child,” Femi sang in a hushed voice.

The chariots were fast approaching; the wheels rumbled on the ground; accompanied by the screams of a woman from a raging whip.

Nefertari watched the scourge of violence unravel. She could only clasp her mother’s hand, sighed, and fixed her eyes on the bloody scene.

“I’ll be here to wipe your fears,” Femi spoke the words in harmonious words to quell the young girl’s fear.

The roaring wheels from the carriage thundered again on the sand. “Don’t look...don’t cry.” Femi murmured and kissed her forehead. The wailing pleas from the prisoners reverberated across the desert. The fear and apprehension of the young princess gradually lessened.

At last, the gruesome carnage finally ended, only two remained, a man and a woman. Their skins were falling out from their limbs.

High priest Hamar rose from his seat, conveyed in a loud, deep voice, “The gods will take our gracious gifts. No one will be spared. Oh, gods from the heavens above heed our words.” He looked up to heavens and lifted his hands as a tribute to the gods.

To end the sacrifice, one among the royal families must kill the life of the survivors. The smoke from the burning remains of the vulture would decide for the next royalty to kill. The fume of sulfur ascended to the air, rushing to the statue of the goddess named Sekhmet. To the deity which the smoke lingered, the person who served the god would be the one to kill.

Femi felt a slight discomfort; her throat went dry. It occurred to her that Princess Nefertari must learn to kill, and her hands would someday shed more blood. The realization made Femi gripped the arm of the chair and breathed deeply.

Princess Hamitha went to the temple, one of the daughters of Pharaoh. She was fifteen years old, three years older than Princess Nefertari. Hamitha slipped on the golden mask of a lioness on her face. Sekhmet was the goddess of war, and it served as a symbol. An old priest bowed his head, and he asked her to choose a weapon. The princess gladly picked the arrow.

Princess Hamitha must take the life of the prisoners. She checked the target, prepared the shaft and scrutinized the distance. Hamitha’s arms were adorned with beaded jewels; she was a proud descendant from the tribe of Thebes. She raised the arrow to the heavens, but she abruptly turned the weapon towards Femi. Her recklessness revolted a shock from the crowd.

The Queen stood from her seat, the Pharaoh creased his forehead. Hamitha shifted the arrow to the captive and released the bow. It hit right through the chest of the struggling prisoner. She took another arrow and killed the remaining one. The hands of the hundred slaves drowned the tension by filling the air with the thunder from their drums.

The incense of the sulfur engulfed the air, together with the blaring sun that never ceased to warm the sands of Egypt. Princess Hamitha discarded her mask; leaving a venomous smile to Femi.

Nefertari saw the disrespectful manner of her sister. A foreign feeling started to grow within her heart, hatred for her sister. The young princess breathed, she finally learned the real world inside the walls of the palace and quietly vowed to protect her mother. Her fear had faded from the bloodshed, replaced by a heart filled with courage.

As punishment for her actions, the Queen prohibited Hamitha from attending the royal court for a month.

As time went by, Nefertari grew to be more beautiful; she became the favorite of Pharaoh and the Queen. She was the envy among her sisters and the object of the desires of her brothers. The years changed the Pharaoh; his health had weakened, and his body was already frail. The heir to the throne, Prince Amhra was too young, and he was only six years old. The Pharaoh and the Queen must decide on the marriage.

“AHHHHHHH!!” Hamitha’s scream filled the hall. She rushed forward with a long dagger. Her enemy evaded the attack, stepped backward and lunged the golden shield.

The opponent of Hamitha let out a deep breath; the chest heaved from fast breathing. Her face had a golden mask of a Falcon while Hamitha displayed a mask shaped like a Lioness. A thin piece of golden cloth and light steel covered their chest. White linen wrapped around their waists. Both of them wore golden bracelets on their wrists and feet. A small tattoo was visible on their waistline; a symbol of their gods. Judging from Hamitha’s expertise, she was great in dagger throwing and archery. The falcon excelled in sword fights and racing the chariot.

The Lioness rushed ahead with a darting dagger, but the Falcon eluded the offense by swiftly moving to the side and ducked her head under the shield. Escaping from the attack, the Falcon struck the sword against her golden shield. The clang resonated across the hall; it taunted Hamitha for being weak.

Their weapons gleamed, creating a spark from friction whenever they attacked each other. The Lioness was in a fury, while the Falcon was swift and calculated in every move. The Lioness roared in anger, with all her strength, she advanced toward the Falcon. Hamitha tried to strike the Falcon right on its face, but failed; the enemy evaded the dagger again by swerving the sword towards Hamitha’s side. Causing the Lioness to lost her balance and stumbled to the floor.

Gasped of surprise was heard from the crowd. The Pharaoh smiled at the agility and grace of the Falcon. Queen Meshkenet pursed her lips in amusement. The Falcon stepped closer; she knelt while Hamitha was lying on the floor. Pointing the sword over the throat of Hamitha, she pierced its edge on the skin until a drop of blood fell from the surface. Behind the mask of the Falcon, hatred flashed in those light-brown eyes. Hamitha’s chest heaved with labored breathing; she blinked her eyes in anticipation of possible death.

The drum was pounded, the booming sound saved Hamitha.

The Falcon bowed to Pharaoh and the Queen; she removed the mask to reveal the beautiful face of Princess Nefertari. The Lioness stood and bowed down to the Pharaoh and the Queen. Hamitha’s face was marked with weariness, and her eyes were filled with envy.

“Your downfall will come one day Nefertari...I will pray to the gods. I swear to crush you, and I will leave a smile on your tomb.” Hamitha hissed with hatred; she left the hall with a fury in her heart.

Inside the temple, Nefertari walked along the aisle. Hamar, the great priest, waited and lowered his head as the princess approached him. “High Priest Hamar. I am honored to grace your presence,” she acknowledged. Nefertari wore a headdress of an eagle and red tunic that matched her porcelain skin.

The second most powerful man in Egypt, the high priest Hamar was the brother of Queen Meshkenet. He was a wise old man, a scribe, and a known scholar — a herbalist, blacksmith, doctor, and poet. Hamar smiled at his former student. Like the Pharaoh and the Queen, Femi’s daughter was also one of his favorites. He taught Nefertari an ancient language, it was a strange dialect, unknown to the Egyptians. “Hierse magnaber nishtakan lokhniéray traéûyu...genakha teroqna. [ “I have something to show you...your highness.” ] He lowered his gaze as he speaks.

He guided the Princess to the vast hallways of the palace. The walls were designed in ancient hieroglyphics with Egyptian gods painted on the edifice. The lights from the torches illuminated the way. They passed the rooms owned by the Pharaoh. It was private with all the golds and treasures collected by Akhmenra. When the pharaoh dies, all his possessions would be kept in a pyramid beside his tomb. They proceeded in a dim corridor, and the high priest lit the torch and handed over to the slave. They strode down the dark aisle towards the temple of the god, Horus. Hamar raised his hand to the slave, a gesture to stop in front of the door. Nefertari was the only one he allowed to enter.

Inside the shrine was spacious, surrounded by massive pillars. The fire from the torches were dancing from the chanting priests who offered prayers to the statue of Horus. The priests wore a white tunic; their faces were painted with symbols of the gods. Nefertari and Hamar knelt at the foot of Horus.

The priests finally ended their monotonous hums in their prayers. They assembled in a line, swung the scale of smoking incense and hummed a song of praise to their beloved Horus.

Hamar advanced towards the altar and opened a small box in front of Nefertari. “My princess, I will present to you the treasure from the sky.” He lowered his gaze, showing the most exquisite treasure in his hands — a rare kind of shimmering stone, with a unique color of green and blue. Its measure was comparable to the size of a human eye, and its texture was neither hard nor soft.

“What kind of treasure is this?” The princess narrowed her eyes.

“A fragment of star fell from the sky. My ancestors made weapons from the elements of the fallen rock. This was found inside the core. Nobody knew how to use this treasure, and considered a waste, without beauty, it has no value. I would like to ask your wisdom about this treasure I possess?” Hamar lifted his gaze then bowed and extended his hand to show the box.

Nefertari scrutinized the stone; her lashes fluttered while checking the details. “I am honored. There is truth in what you say; indeed there is no value without beauty. If it pleases your heart, I will carry this treasure when the gods of heaven take my life. It will not be a waste anymore. I will present it to the gods in the afterlife.”

A smile slipped from Hamar’s lips upon hearing the promise.

Out of nowhere, an old priest walked in the middle of the temple; he bowed to the statue of Horus. A strong gust of wind blew; the flames from the torches flickered. The color from his face started to drain as he prayed, he tore his white tunic; then turned his eyes upward and uttered a mournful chant with his disembodied voice. “You will be cursed; you will be cursed.” He repeatedly murmured, strangely, he glanced at the corner where the Princess stood.

“The sky...the s-star...the night has come...kingdom will fall into the hands of a warrior. Nobody will be s-spared.” The priest hissed the words to Nefertari’s direction. He crawled and knelt at the edge of her feet. His hands were shaking when he pressed his cheeks. “The gods have spoken, the curse was bestowed. Time will imprison the mortal.” He mumbled incoherently and choked on his sobs. He sat, rocked his body back and forth; as if he was telling a lullaby with a sorrowful voice. “The heart of Isis will be spilled in the sands. Darkness must take the soul, and tears must fall. A betrayal of Seth and the God Horus,” he whimpered in anguish. “B-betrayal will take your life...”

The princess stared in a fascinated terror too overwhelmed to move when fear loomed into her eyes. She let out a muffled shriek at what she saw. Her face suddenly went ashen from horror.

The priest pulled a sharp dagger from his robe, in a flash, he thrust it to his chest. “H-haaaahhhh...t-take m-my l-life,” a moaning voice came out from his throat. Coughing out blood, he pushed the blade further inside. Before running out of breath, his black pupils flared and transformed to white as he stared at her. Before losing his breath, he left a message in a tremulous voice. “You are cursed.”

Credits:

“Pagan Prayers: Hymn To Amun-ra (egyptian).” Insert Name of Site in Italics. N.p., n.d. Web. 05 Mar. 2019 http://www.sacred-texts.com/pag/ppr/ppr16.htm.

The news of Pharaoh’s failing health spread like wildfire in entire Egypt. His allies were already planning a rebellion. Pharaoh’s weak health contrived political tension within the domain. The thirst for power was a threat to the Queen, for whoever holds the empire would be powerful. Political distress revolted within the kingdom, so was the royal family. There was a tension that filled the air as who could be the next heir. To subdue the conflict that would arise, the Queen decided to visit the realms to ensure their loyalty. Among the delegates who were chosen to accompany her was the mother of Nefertari. Femi must travel at the break of dawn and meet the Queen at the camp.

Meanwhile, inside Nefertari’s chamber.

“Your Highness, your mother has asked your presence.” The slave lowered her head and knelt on the floor. She wore a white robe, a colorful wristband on her wrist and a feathered necklace. Most of the slaves were Nubians. Their skin were dark; men had muscular physique and women were taller than Egyptians.

Nefertari waved her right hand forward, a gesture dismissing the priestesses in her room. The women served the deity Hathor, the goddess of fertility. The priestesses who lived in the temples were daughters of higher social class. An unspoken rule for the dominant class not to engage with the slave or the lowest level of society. Considering her royal status, Nefertari preferred the company of the female priests.

For a moment, her mother was unable to wait, Femi proceeded to the Princess’s chamber.

“Lady Femi has arrived.” The servant politely announced, at the same time bowing her head as the mother entered the room.

Nefertari approached the door, she lowered her head and placed her two hands over her chest as a reverence. “My heart rejoices for your grace. Mother.” Femi ignored the greetings, instead she embraced her daughter and caressed the strands of long hair of Nefertari. “You can break the formality. You will forever be my daughter,” she chuckled elegantly.

They sat in a long upholstered seat with the moonlight shining from the window. A vast garden was visible from the chamber with a rectangular pond, in the center, filled with colorful fish. Lotus blossoming in the water and flowers around the edges. The lake had succeeding rows of trees, sycamores, palms, and grenadiers, with flower beds.

“Have your eyes finally chose to stay beside your heart?” A corner of Femi’s mouth lifted, together with a glint of happiness in her eyes.

Nefertari breathed for a moment to observe the garden; she looked up to the moon and contemplated for an answer. “Such trivial query, mother. The gods have not fondled my heart; the belief is unknown to my soul.” She shrugged and glanced at her.

“You will have it someday,” Femi uttered as the gentle breeze brushed her face.

“Has the gods bestowed love to you, mother? Have you felt it?” Nefertari clutched her chest to feel the heartbeat; then she raised her golden cup; the slave poured the wine.

A smile slipped on Femi’s lips, and she looked to the moon. “I adore the moon. I fell in love with it,” she paused, “I loved the light radiating out of its soul,” she gave a meaningful response with her eyes dimming with sadness.

“The Gods favored the great king to be loved by you, Mother.” Nefertari replied as she steadily sipped her wine.

Their conversation continued upon the grace of the moon glowing in the desert, the light never ceased to wane as if waiting for the night that would soon be old.

Femi shifted her head to Nefertari; showing a half-smile across her face. “I will leave tomorrow at the break of dawn. My absence gives sadness to my heart. I longed to be beside you at the festival of the gods.” She let out a heavy sigh, staring once again to the desert, and moonlight once again caressed her face.

“Fear not for I am well. May the gods protect you, mother. I will pray at the temples and burn offerings for your safe return.” Nefertari assured to silence her fear, she took Femi’s hand and placed it on her cheek. Nefertari offered a light kiss on the wrist, the latter smiled, trying to hide the sorrow from her eyes.

“It is late...must we take a rest? The night is getting old.” Femi answered sofly, gently caressing her cheek. Then she headed to the bed, sat down and tapped her thigh to bade her daughter to sleep.

“But I’m not a child...mother.” Nefertari creased her brow from the odd request.

Femi’s brown hair radiated in the moonlight, tucking a few strands on her ear, she once again implored. “Do you have the heart to disdain your mother’s desire?” she spoke with a gentle voice.

Nefertari sighed in defeat. Only her mother’s plea could soften her heart and willingly laid her head on the lap. Femi brushed Nefertari’s hair. “I pray to gods to claim your heart. I bid that you will love someday.”

“If gods have finally taken my heart...will they give me a sign?” Nefertari mused softly; the caressed from her hair made her at ease from the stillness of the night.

Femi’s light touch composed a message on Nefertari’s cheek; she learned it from the high priest Hamar. Shukla, writing words with a fingertip.

And then she wrote.

Love is always a sacrifice.

Nefertari smiled from those words, and her eyes remained sleepy.

“Must I sing a lullaby?” Femi continued to caress her hair.

“If it pleases your kind heart mother,” Nefertari assured with her husky voice.

Femi started to sing in a melodious voice. The song relived the past, erasing fear, sadness, and doubt. “Don’t look...don’t turn,” she whispered. The Princess’ eyes began to wane from a sweet-sounding voice. “Close your eyes and the moon will shine.” Femi continued caressing Nefertari’s hair. She sighed only to turn her eyes to the moon, hinting sadness from her voice. “Fair child, hear your mother’s voice, and contain her love to your heart.” A single drop of tear fell from her cheek. “Don’t be scared.” She pursed her lips and breathed. “I’ll be here to wipe your tears from the doom of the sky.”

The darkness dispersed over the sands of Egypt, Nefertari drifted off to the river of dreams

“Don’t look...don’t cry,” Femi ended the song in a whisper. The gentle wind lauded a cold murmur to a peaceful moonlight.

Princess Nefertari ventured along the path that led to the temple. Trailing behind her were the faithful servants. A symbol of a Falcon decorated her headdress. She wore a sleeveless cotton dress, embroidered in green feathers of a peacock. Her fragrance originated from the aroma of lily, myrrh, and cinnamon. The sweet smell of jasmine filled the air; it gave a pleasant mood to the slaves in waiting and royal guards of the palace.

Hamitha and Nefertari met along the pathway.

Hamitha’s olive skin glistened from the sunlight, wearing makeup and dark eyeliner. She had golden jewelry on her neck, a status symbol in ancient Egypt. Projected in scarab beetles, it was a symbol of power, religion, and status. Ancient Egyptians wore jewelry to show their wealth; they believed it made them more attractive to the Gods. Hamitha were adorned with rings, earrings, bracelets, decorated buttons, necklaces, and pendants.

Nefertari lowered her head to acknowledge her older sister, but Princess Hamitha walked towards her; ignoring the courtesy given by young Nefertari. “What a lovely day we have my dear sister...will the gods favor you today?” Hamitha stepped closer; she smiled seductively behind her wicked eyes.

“The gods always favor me,” Nefertari never showed a hint of fear against her sister’s stare.

Hamitha clicked her tongue in amusement, then she twirled Nefertari’s hair with her finger and whispered. “For now...my dear sister,” her tone was distant and firmed. It was sweet but poisonous, like a fruit sprinkled with thorns.

Hamitha closed their gap and kissed Nefertari’s cheek. “Oh, my dear sister.” Her lashes fluttered as she fixed her eyes to Nefertari’s lips. “The walls have ears; you must have your mask. It’s a shame to put a scar on your lovely face,” She softly clawed her fingers on Nefertari’s arms, as she muttered those words to her ears. Then, bid a venomous smirk.

The arena was ready.

Chariots were in line.

Soldiers stood under the burning sun.

A hundred chariots marched in the desert. People were inside the temple as they watched the soldiers from afar.

Nefertari sighed, she stared at the empty seat beside her. She longed for her mother; it had been a week since Femi left the capital of Thebes.

Like the way it used to be, the roaring drums from the hands of a hundred slaves pulsated through the air. The echoes coming from the wind met the scorching rays of the sun.

Simultaneously, the smoke from the incense filled the air accompanied by a thunderous revolt coming from the drum. The synchronized rhythm, the thumping vibrations traveled to Nefertari’s heart. She clutched her chest, a silent plea to her heartbeat to be still. The gentle breeze brought chills to her skin, she quivered. Then again, the wind blew softly to her ears. Nefertari felt something unimaginable, the ache in the bottom of her gut told her that something wasn’t right.

The high priest Hamar stood in front of the temple. The incense profusely dispersed the odor of the sulfur, the fumes navigated through their seats, and it touched the terror from Nefertari’s eyes.

Hamar raised his hands; the slaves halted the drums. Then, he started to speak in a deep voice.

“PEOPLE OF EGYPT...IN HONOR OF THE GODS. WE HAVE SET THE HIGH TABLE. THE SACRED LIGHT IS BRIGHT. OH GODS OF HEAVENS HEED OUR PRAYERS. TAKE OUR OFFERINGS. BLESS OUR LAND! ”

The great priest bowed to worship the heavens. The people knelt, and together they shouted the name of their god.

“AMUN RA!”

“AMUN RA!”

“AMUN RA!”

“AMUN RA!”

The priests offered prayers to the gods, the chants sounded like humming bees. The most powerful man in the land came out from the tabernacle. Feeble and frail but the Pharaoh’s voice traveled to the ears of the crowd. To the presence of the mortals he was strong, he instilled fear in his tone and graced to the gods with powerful words.

“I, the pharaoh, adoring the great god of the two kingdoms of Egypt. I have invited to the shrine set upon this divine altar, and to whom I offer praises day by day!”

“I pray to the gods with awe that they will deign to even out the unwitting faults I have committed. I, the pharaoh ask for the blessing and favoring me according to the powers which they wield. I, the Pharaoh will take after the supreme example and perform good works in the name of gods!”

“The message of God, Amun Ra, Osiris, and Isis. I bless this land and offer the treasures to the deities. Heed my wise words. Abide by my deeds. This is your Pharaoh. I declare to begin this day. The divinities of Egypt will bless you!”

The Pharaoh extended his blessing as he raised his symbols to the sky. The soldiers blew the trumpets, chariots lined in place, and the slaves rattled a hundred drums again.

At every beat of the drum and sound of the marching feet gave once again a horror to Nefertari’s memory. Once again it was a familiar scene but today it would be more intense. Six male prisoners were presented in the middle of the field; they were the ones caught in the battle. They were masculine, dark-skinned and black veils hiding their faces. Their upper bodies were naked with a small piece of tattered black cloth covering their manhood. The prisoners removed the mask from their faces and began to flee.

The charioteers whipped the prisoners. Lashing them mercilessly not stopping even if the blood came out like a fountain.

One brave prisoner grabbed the whip in mid-air, the general fell from the chariot. He grabbed the sword and stabbed the general on the chest. But fate took his luck. An Egyptian soldier riding on the horse was fast approaching. The brave prisoner’s neck met the sharpness of an ax, and his lifeless head rolled to the sands. The view from afar stirred excitement to the crowd. Princess Hamitha bit her lower lip; it gave her sexual pleasure to the bloody carnage. Nefertari’s blood began to drain from her face as she watched the show.

Another soldier pierced the body of the prisoner. They stabbed them with spears like helpless animals. Sliced their flesh with swords and plowed their bodies from the wheels of the charioteer. The sound of hell had risen from the land, yet it failed to draw sympathy from the crowd. Even heaven did not intervene. Blood once again showered the desert, mangled organs decorated the sands. Once again, the chariots dragged the prisoners. They were like ants drowning from the stream of merciless wheels. Hamitha laughed at the view and bit her lip. She turned at Nefertari, their eyes locked, and Hamitha ended it with a vicious grin.

The sound of the drum was not heard, a dying man crawled along the sand. An Egyptian soldier smashed his skull with the golden ax. The trumpets echoed, all prisoners were dead while the vultures watched the delightful feast from above.

Nefertari sighed of relief. There was no reason for her to kill, however, the circumstance proved her wrong. A new captive, delivered in the middle of the arena. It was a woman. She stood at the center without resistance and did not bother to move or escape.

Hamitha’s eyes gleamed with delight upon seeing a new prisoner. Hamar commenced speaking; unlike before, the high priest had a somber expression, “T-the gods have s-spoken,” he paused, “We must offer the blood to the gods. No one will be s-spared,” he ended it in a mournful voice. Then, he walked down the stairs to initiate a ceremony by burning the remains of the vultures and placed it in front of the statues.

The gust of wind blew and touched Nefertari’s face, it whispered in her ears, sending a message she could not understand. Her palms turned cold from sweat. The shrieking cry of vultures resonated through the wind, it gave chills to her skin.

The fire from the sacrifice grew in front of the Gods. Black smoke arises to thin air, the air carried the message, and the dark fume had chosen a deity, and it was...

HORUS.

The blood drained from Nefertari’s face, the omen gave shivers to her skin. She suddenly sensed an underlying fear and a prickling pain in her heart was starting to convey terror. She flinched from her seat, a loud sound of the drums caused her to be nervous; she exhaled a sharp breath, trying to hide her anxiety. The princess stood and went outside the temple. The servants bowed their heads as she approached. Nefertari stepped to the altar, she put on the golden mask of a falcon, took the bow, but the High Priest intervened. Hamar lowered his gaze to the princess; he extended his arms and presented a unique weapon in his hands.

The Pharaoh’s golden dagger.

Nefertari looked surprised, the dagger was a special weapon, and only the Pharaoh could use it. Still confused, she took it and glanced at her father. The Pharaoh nodded, and the princess lowered her head in response.

The rumbling sound of drums once again thundered from the willful hands of slaves. Nefertari’s footsteps imprinted on the sands. The wind carried the prayers from the chanting priests.

“Awake, awake, awake, awake in peace, Lady of Peace. Rise thou in peace, rise thou in beauty. Goddess of Life, beautiful in heaven, Heaven is in peace. Earth is at peace. Oh, goddess. Daughter of Nut, Daughter of Geb, Beloved of Osiris, Goddess rich in names! All praise to You. All praise to You. I adore You. I adore You, Lady Isis!”

Every step she took, the grain of sands joined along her feet. She bravely trod the desert, carrying the Pharaoh’s dagger. Failure to kill, her life would be in danger. The chant of ancient prayers accompanied her until the mumbling voices of the priests had faded.

The sharp air blew, the sands danced through the breeze. She could hear the birds wailing a loud cry as if announcing the arrival of death.

Nefertari chose to ignore the heat from the sun; a single drop of sweat fell from her forehead. She heard the moan coming from the prisoner. Then she started to sing her mother’s song in her mind. Don’t look...don’t turn. Don’t look...don’t cry.

A soft cry from a prisoner was familiar to Nefertari’s ears. It had a tune, mumbling in melody, a sound getting clear while she walk closer to the woman.

Nefertari approached the prisoner. She looked beyond the veil that covered the captive’s face. A smile slipped from the woman. Nefertari’s eyes narrowed; it was unusual to see the prisoner’s smile. It was warm, peaceful and it portrayed an undying love.

Nefertari’s heart shredded into pieces. She was left without a choice but to take her life. The princess sighed; she tightened her grip and raised the dagger. The woman stood, meeting her death with sheer bravery.

The wailing of the Falcons reached the heavens, the wind blew a cold whisper allowing the gentle breeze to move the veil and it revealed the face of...

“M-mother!”

Nefertari blinked her eyes. “Mother! Mother!” her voice quivered in shock. Tears escaped from her eyes, and she immediately lowered the dagger. It seemed her heart had been ripped from her chest over and over again. It was too painful to watch. For a moment, Nefertari’s mind went blank, she had no idea what to do. Femi held her daughter’s cheeks. Kill me; a silent plea came from her eyes.

The world of a brave Nefertari crumbled at her request. “N-no...p-please...n-no. I-I beseech y-you m-mother. D-don’t l-let me d-do t-this,” she replied in a suffocated whisper, “Don’t let me do it, Mo-mother.”

Femi could not speak; she cut her tongue to protect her lover.

The eyes of a mother begged once again, she pursed her lips, gave a slight nod. She blinked tears from her eyes; it made wet tracks down her face and dripped from her wobbling chin. “Uhmm...uhmm.” Moans coming to her lips invoked her daughter to kill her.

The princess laughed in bitter irony, with eyes welled with tears. “No...no...no.” She shook her head, almost choking her words. In her trembling hands, she held her mother’s face and whispered, “If there is no salvation for us.” Nefetari paused, her eyelashes fluttered as the tears fell again. She had a hard time saying the words. It seemed like she had to swallow again and again to remove the lump on her throat. “L-let’s face death.” She pleaded behind her falcon mask; it seemed a thousand spears buried in her heart. Nefertari endured the stinging pain in her chest; seeing her mother and killing her was the only way to end it. But she won’t let it, not now, not ever. Her shoulders heaved as her eyes turned blurry. “I-I can’t kill you mother...let them kill me,” The eyes of the daughter rimmed in tears and her chin trembled as she uttered her final decision.

Still...

The mother’s love prevailed before Nefertari could throw away the dagger. Femi grabbed the weapon and thrust it to her chest.

“NOOOOOOOOOO!!” Nefertari exploded in hysteria, staring at the blade buried in her mother’s chest. Great tremor overtook her as she screamed in horror. “No! No! No!” In shaking hands, she tried to pull out the dagger. Nefertari struggled with her thoughts. Imagining it was a nightmare that she would soon wake up. But the truth was more powerful to defeat; her mother’s strength remained on the Pharaoh’s golden dagger.

Femi finally fell in the sands of Egypt, a satisfaction of smile slipped from Pharaoh’s lips.

Out of nowhere, darkness loomed to the desert...

The crowd stood from their seats, watching the moon defeating the sun. They scurried out of fear. Reckoning would soon arrive at the sands of Egypt.

Nefertari knelt on the sands; she allowed the darkness to embrace her. She held her mother’s face, whispering in a trembling voice. “Mother...p-please...p-please,” she implored every word with pure misery. For a while, the world stopped to move, the pain of a weeping heart lingered along the sands of Egypt.

“HAAAHHHHH!!” Nefertari screamed to the heavens with her tears. Embracing her mother, as she shouted again and again to the sky.

Her cry filled the darkness.

With a shaking hand, she removed the veil and threw her Falcon’s mask. The sun had returned; the wind made its presence known from sands.

The sandstorm was about to set out.

The desert frolicked from the wind, and the world became a blur. Now, it would begin to dance with the wind and play among the sands. There was no spotlight but an eclipse. The ephemeral flurries, compelled to be oppressive. Darkness from the sky changed the spectrum, and a sheet of sands assailed everything on its path.

The daughter hugged her mother into her arms. “M-mother...m-mother,” Nefertari uttered, again and again, she laid her cheek to Femi’s face, holding her firmly. Tears streamed down from Nefertari’s face; she would never let go until the final moment. In her weak hand, Femi wrote on her cheek. Don’t be afraid.

I will always love you. She wrote again, then lovingly wiped the tears of her daughter while coughing out blood.

“You...you will be in my heart,” Nefertari said softly. She gasped for air, endless tears made it harder to breathe.

Shall I sing you a lullaby? Femi lightly touched her face.

Nefertari chuckled between the endless sobs, she immediately wiped her eyes, but another tear threatened to spill. The daughter shook her head; she would be the one to sing to her mother, in her quavered voice she began to speak. “D-don’t l-look...don’t turn.” She shut her eyes and continued to sing the pain in the lullaby. “C-close y-your eyes and the t-the moon will shine.” Nefertari gasped again for air to breathe, she was crying, but still, she managed her voice not to break. “F-fair c- child hear your mother’s voice and take her love to y-your heart,” She could feel the life was leaving on her mother’s breath. She placed her lips to Femi’s ear so her mother could hear her voice.

The sandstorm seemed like a gentle friend to the Princess. It did not suffocate them; they whirled and swirled above their heads.

“D-don’t be scared.” Nefertari sang a lullaby in whirling sands. “I’ll be here to wipe your fears from the doom of the sky.” In her shaking hand, she brushed Femi’s eyes to close the window of her soul. She took her mother’s hand and kissed it. Femi tried to open her eyes; she could see her daughter’s face from her dimming sight.

Nefertari paused for a moment, and gazed at the sky, then buried her face to her mother’s neck. “Don’t look...don’t cry.” Femi smiled; then raised her hand to wipe away the tears.

A final glimpse, a final goodbye.

Femi exhaled her last breath. Nefertari kissed her cheek, sending her endless tears. Sorrowful moans escaped from her lips. Her chin trembled in deep emotions stirred in a long-lasting sob. Nefertari held her mother in her arms. She would not let go; she would not send her to the gods. Not yet...not yet. That was all she could give from her embrace.

The death of Femi changed the life of the fair princess. Unknown to the other royal family, only the Pharaoh and Hamar conspired to hide her death. They ordered to bury her in a secret tomb unknown to the other royal family. If Samaria learned the tragedy, there would be another political tension.

Days passed, the pharaoh’s health gradually weakened, like a melting candle of a flame that would soon extinguish. The Queen returned from her travel; she received the news of the death of Femi. Nevertheless, Queen Meshkenet remained stoic to emotions. Not a single remorse showed from her face.

Before the Pharaoh’s health wholly diminished. He chose a wife for the young prince, and the luck was bestowed to Nefertari.

The princess married the child prince, and the Pharaoh died after the marriage. In addition to that, Princess Hamitha also married her brother, Abbidon.

Weeks passed, the Queen developed an illness, a strange disease that was foreign to the doctors. Not one of them could tell the cause of her sickness. She looked frail and disoriented, her face was beginning to lose color and her lips were turning pale. Her emotional outburst indicated her worsening condition. She even attacked her brother, that left a scar on Hamar’s cheek, and after a few days, she finally succumbed to her death.

Hamar carried the ceremony and buried the Queen within the pyramid. Her death deeply saddened him, grief shattered his soul, but his love for the kingdom compelled him to be strong.

At the age of seventeen, the empire had a Queen.

The Great Nefertari.

However, the male monarch of Egypt was a child. It was decided the marriage would be consummated once he was old enough to plant his seeds inside the Queen’s womb.

The pain left by the past changed the new Queen of Egypt. The meek princess, who once hated violence, had transformed into a ferocious beast at the battle. She slaughtered her enemies without mercy. Her sword was lightning; her chariot was thunder, Queen Nefertari instilled fear to her enemies. With a husband beside her who was still a child and no heir for a throne. Betrayal dawned the palace. Whoever next in line could take her place, therefore, she was the ultimate prize to the game of deceit. The young Pharaoh died from a poisonous snake bite. Even the bloodline next to Nefertari did not survive.

Now, the whole land lies in the hands of one ruler, Queen Nefertari.

If the Pharaoh was not spared, thus was the life of the Queen. She survived assassinations. Slaves were killed for trying to stab her. Corrupt generals were hanged for an uprising. The betrayal from one of her brothers suffered the vengeance of a mortal favored by the gods. No matter how nefarious the plot, some had succeeded. They poisoned the Queen from her food, but Hamar successfully defeated her death.

The Queen was no longer scared of death; she longed for it. The loss of her mother brought deep sorrow to her heart. Nefertari already realized what sort of life she would lead. Marriage, heir, power, and kingdom, the cycles that never inspired Nefertari yet it was destined to be part of her, forever.

Nefertari sighed; she was having a deep thought as she stared at the sky, the moonbeams illuminated on the horizon as if guiding the mystery of the desert. A cold breeze embraced her body, gently ruffling the softness of her dress. She hugged herself, allowing the wind to caress her face. A light footstep was heard coming to her direction.

“My Queen, High Priest Hamar has requested your presence.” The servant knelt on the floor, and she lowered her gaze in announcing the arrival of Hamar.

“I oblige his desire.” The Queen stood from her seat. Upon hearing Nefertari’s command, the servants opened the door.

The high priest had ripened with age; he used a crutch to support his gait. Hamar was a trusted advisor of Nefertari. He imparted the best ideas for the kingdom. He bowed to the Queen as respect and smiled without meeting her gaze.

“It’s been a while, Hamar. May I inquire about your reason for my presence?” she politely remarked with a distinct regality in her voice.

“My Queen, I fear for the message I carry in my hand. I intend to allow your wisdom to discern this matter.” He extended his hand to present the news written inside the papyrus. The servant reached and gave it to the Queen. She read the information, her face revealed no emotions; she already predicted what lies in her hands.

“My sister is planning a revolt. It will be a tragedy for foolish Hamitha,” Nefertari answered in a weary and distant voice.

Hamar seemed proud of what he heard. His eyes gleamed with delight; he pressed his lips to suppressed a grin. Nefertari’s wisdom led Egypt in golden years. She built structures to strengthen the walls of Egypt. Lowered taxes and promoted education to lower class. Her father amassed a heap of treasures; the Queen did the opposite; she divided the wealth of the kingdom.

The moonlight radiated on Nefertari’s face. Like her mother, the sun had failed to darken her porcelain skin; she was the snow of the desert. At the age of twenty-years-old, she was already ripe for marriage yet again; nobody was good enough for her.

“Princess Hamitha conducted campaigns near the eastern lands. She hired the forces of Assyrians, Canaanites, Mitani, and Babylonians if the gods favored the princess. Egypt would suffer,” Hamar informed with concern in his voice. It was political suicide for Hamitha to asked help from the outsiders.

The corner of her mouth quirked up; her eyes glinted with amusement. Princess Hamitha always gave her a good fight.

“I command you to deploy our military units. Release the prisoners of war; they will fight for Egypt and prepare the naval squadrons. Soldiers can be ship at great speed to the Asiatic coast. We can attack the rebellious Canaanites without warning,” she commanded with determination and confidence in her voice. A signal for accepting the challenge; she extended the papyrus to Hamar and handed her seal. “The gods will favor us. I will meet my vilest blood at the battle of Kadesh.”

The battle took a thousand lives. The Queen captured two Caanites spies; she ordered to torture them until they revealed the plans of Hamitha. Armies of Nefertari marched and attacked the forces of her sister. A thousand blazing arrows fell from the sky. Burning bodies scattered on the desert and the black smoke consumed the camp. A devastating defeat ruined the forces of Hamitha.

The Queen walked through the valley of death, searching for her sister. Nefertari did not even bother to wear armor. She kept her sword, she welcomed death, but the gods always took it from her.

A familiar figure was seen blocking her way, and she found her sister lying on the ground. Nefertari knelt, she embraced and laid Hamitha on her lap.

Hamitha curved her lips in a bitter smile. “Indeed I’m a fool. The gods favored you,” she gasped for air with a heaving chest. A broken arrow buried on her side, the crimson blood overflowed across her waist. Death started to drain the life of Hamitha. The color on her face had faded. She started to shiver from cold.

Nefertari shook her head and whispered. “Such hatred led you to your demise. You are a fool. I am tired of this life. If only you had been patient to your fate...luck would have smiled at you.” Her words showed misery, she had no desire to fight more battles, but she was the Queen. Responsibilities were endless.

A single tear fell from Hamitha’s eyes. Nefertari wiped the falling tears from her sister; she embraced her. Hamitha grimaced from pain, but she forced to smile with sadness gleaming in her dark eyes. “Hatred makes us fools.” Hamitha coughed out blood; her chest heaved in a fast manner.

The sadness of the Queen was turned in remorse. She had nothing to say, she could only watch her die in her arms.

In her final moment, Hamitha asked a favor, “E-end my life...my Q-queen. D-death in your hands is my redemption.” She tightened her grip in a dagger and handed it to Nefertari. Hamitha breathed deeply; a single tear slid down on her cheek. In the last hour of her life, the one that she hated could also be the one that she admired. Hamitha confessed the truth as she caught her breath with blood lashing out from her mouth. “I will tell y-you the t-truth about your mother...I b-beg your forgiveness...”

But before Hamitha could reveal the secrets, a flying arrow shot her chest. The loyal slave of Hamar ended the life of Hamitha.

The death of Hamitha turned out to be the new era of Egypt. Nefertari’s rule was a small kingdom compared to other civilizations. A conqueror named Alexander from Macedonia rose from power. He took over kings and empires. He even defeated the Persian naval bases on the coastline of Asia Minor and Syria and extended so far to India. Alexander the Great conquered the world.

With all the military groups and armies serving Alexander, the river Nile was a drop of water against the greeks tidal waves, but Queen Nefertari stood bravely for Egypt. Alexander captured Gaza, and he would extend to Pelusium. Soon he would march his forces across the Nile and defeat the capital of Memphis, the place of the Queen.

Nefertari prayed at the temple of Horus with a mournful silence joining her. She was ready; she wore her white dress and a headdress of a cobra. If the Greeks were the gateway to her death, she would consider it. Everything must end; she had accepted her destiny.

The Queen stood from her knees. She bowed in front of the statue of Horus. The aroma of incense filled the temple, the final night of the golden era.

The sound of the door opening created an echo across the hall. Hamar, the high priest, together with his loyal servants, entered the temple. His dark eyes began to lose its glow and mirrored sadness as he advanced towards Nefertari.

“Shed away the sadness. My time has finally come. A new beginning will unfold,” the Queen’s voice was distant and weary. She narrowed her eyes when she saw the unrelenting sorrow from Hamar’s gaze. Nefertari remained composed as she stood with no emotions on her face.

Hamar bowed his head in front of the Queen

“I must face the gods. I may not get all the treasures. I’m willing to discover peace in death.” The Queen spoke with strong determination; she hid the growing sadness from her beautiful smile.

Hamar pursed his lips and replied with a soft voice. “My heart is crying, but I have to protect you, my Queen.” He knelt in front of Nefertari.

“Dismiss such thoughts. I prohibit you from protecting me from death. Let the gods take me...” She elegantly extended her arm to apprehend him from worrying.

A gush of air blew inside the temple; the flames moved in distress.

Hamar stood from his knees and moved closer to the Queen with tears welling in his eyes. “F-forgive me...my Queen.” He whispered the words of betrayal and stabbed her with a golden dagger.

Nefertari widened her eyes as she saw her blood coming out from her spleen. She grabbed Hamar’s shoulder and muttered in surprise. “W-what have you d-done?!”

The mystery of the moonlight guided the priests. Dark clouds had vanished like a wisp of vapor. The desert was now bathed in brilliant light, glistening like a quilt of gold and arrayed in yellow sequins. The group of priests carried the Queen to the pyramid. Hamar already planned everything; he knew the kingdom would end at the hands of the Greek invader. The stone coffin was ready. Torches were lit, and the five loyal priests of Hamar prayed at the altar.

They placed the Queen on a stone table. Like the holiest among the saint, they removed the fine white linen that covered her body. Nefertari wore her white dress and her adorned headdress. Hamar wrapped the wound, but it would never be enough to save her life.

The priests whispered their prayers. Their chants surrounded the temple, and the stones that carried the sand was not broken. Smashing the rocks that contained the sands would serve as cover inside the pyramid. The sands were like the hourglass; it would lock the entrances of the pyramid. The air would soon be gone; nobody could escape once destroyed.

Hamar, the high priest and the loyal servant of the empire, fulfilled a sacrifice, a choice that violated the rules. He must protect the Queen even if it cost her life. He knew the rules of war, and he would never allow anyone to destroy her. He would rather kill the Queen with his bare hands than watched her body be paraded in the streets and rot like a helpless animal.

To Hamar, for him to protect, he needed to betray. He awakened the Queen by inducing her to smell a medicinal balm. The drug was taking effect, and her eyelids began to flutter. Her eyes widened upon seeing Hamar crying beside her.

He asked redemption in his weak voice, “Forgive my treachery...my Queen. I have to protect you from the invaders. It saddened my old spirit to watch Egypt fall. It would crush me to death to see the great Queen helpless to her demise.” There was sadness in his eyes; tears blurred his sight. Nefertari replied a soft cry, “I-I b-bear no hate...I will appease y-your treachery. You must send me to the gods. M-my mother a-awaits me. I must forgive you,” the loss of blood slowly draining the color from her face.

Hamar moved his lips to her ear, and in a weak voice, he started to confess the truth about her mother.

The tragedy of Femi began from the day she set foot in the palace. Queen Meshkenet bored her twilight eyes with hatred for the new concubine. The Queen ordered difficult tasks, abhorred her courtesy, and expressed a cold manner to Femi.

Queen Meshkenet disliked Femi for no reason. Was it the concubine’s skin that gave delight to the arid desert? Was it her eyes that glowed like a sunrise that seemed to pierce her twilight eyes? These thoughts lingered in her mind.

Then one night, the Queen immersed herself in the river of the Nile with the moon shining from above. The warm water slid down from her naked body as she submerged in the river.

A splashed of water had compelled smooth ripples on the surface. The Queen turned at the sound and then saw the silhouette of a woman, hidden by the beauty from the moonlight.

It was the most beautiful creature, the Queen ever laid her eyes. She approached the mysterious woman, and she finally turned to the Queen’s direction. Both were surprised, but the moon formed a spell to the two souls of River Nile. The twilight and sunrise looked into each other’s eyes. It seemed the arrows of love pierced right through their hearts. Days passed, a new friendship bloomed that ended into a forbidden love.

Years passed.

Princess Femi decided to end their forbidden ways.

The Queen kissed her, desiring to change her decision. Femi was resolute to end their love with a bleeding heart. Tears streamed from the eyes of the Queen, like the waters of the river Nile.

The Queen must not break.

The Queen must be proud.

The Queen must be powerful.

And the Queen never begged.

But she willfully bent her knees to Femi and held the precious concubine in her arms.

“Why my heart keeps on loving you when it’s clear that you don’t feel the same way for me. My sadness tells me I can’t force you to love me, I can’t force myself to give up loving you,” Queen Meshkenet held the sunrise in her arms, Femi’s heart broke at the Queen’s misery.

“Your heart swallowed me in a river, and I will never be able to rise. I’m already drowned. I fell into your infinity. My failure to liberate myself will doom your life,” Femi replied with too much pain to bear.

“I will love you like the sands burn along the sun when they are together. I will cry for you like the rain that melts the world. I will miss you as the clouds lose themselves when midnight comes. My love for you will remain like the river Nile. When the time comes, and the gods finally fall. I will take you back with me,” the Queen uttered a promise in a waning voice.

The arid sands of Egypt failed to suppress the temptation between the Queen and Concubine. The more they resisted, the more they succumbed to their burning passion. Not even the oasis of the desert could quench the desires of forbidden love.

But every secret had to end...

The walls had ears, and it reached the venom of princess Hamitha. High priest Hamar discovered the secrets. Before Hamitha could destroy the Queen, Hamar ordered the arrest of Femi at the break of dawn. The truth flew to the ears of Pharaoh, and he ordered the death of Femi.

Like the game of chess, one piece must be a sacrifice. Hamar protected the king and saved the Queen. Femi was a pawn, chosen to be the sacrifice to appease the anger of the gods.

When Queen Meshkenet traveled to appease the rebellion, she waited for her, but she never arrived. The news reached her; she showed no remorse to the eyes of her people. Her impassive face lies a secret of a painful emotion she must endure. The world of the Queen crumbled at the death of Femi. Her tears flowed like the River of Nile, and her way to escape in a weary world was to end her life. Meshkenet knew the ability of her brother. She planned to induce a slow painful death by drinking poison every day until Hamar failed to save her.

Queen Meshkenet’s final hour arrived at her deathbed, but before she breathes out her life, she smiled at her death. She could see the beautiful sunrise finally kissing her twilight eyes.

Tears began to stream from Nefertari’s face.

The high priest confession caused Nefertari to accept her death. She gasped for air, and her breathing was getting slower.

Hamar stared at her beautiful face slowly losing its glow; he could not hide the sadness etching in his crinkled eyes. Nefertari would die with no treasures with her. It broke his heart knowing that she would be miserable in heaven, thus his tears started to pour.

He took a goblet made from gold; he poured a green liquid. He liquified the stone from a meteor then he mixed it with a bit of herb and poison. He knelt on the head of a dying Queen. “My Queen, you will receive the treasure from the star. It will be a great gift for it is not from this world. You must carry it with you.” Hamar moved the goblet to her lips as he held her head. The liquid flowed down to her throat until the cup left empty. At the age of twenty-five years old, the great Queen Nefertari exhaled her last breath.

The priests carefully laid the Queen inside the stone coffin.

Once again, the chants and prayers covered the altar. They smashed the stones, and the flowing sands flooded the temple.

Hamar and his priests, for the final hour, each one of them buried a dagger to their chests. Before he loses his life, he whispered in an ancient language. “Genkuiô heyghà sehtelûo masheokla ase asioksûio hebeselà likhsép ut nû dertlosenetà.” [ “You will inherit the earth and live among the gods.” ]

Egypt fell into the hands of the Greek culture. Alexander the Great died at the age of thirty-two. Ptolemy, one of Alexander’s generals, ruled Egypt. Years passed, one of the descendants of Ptolemy, Queen Cleopatra and the Roman Empire took control of the kingdom until histories were written again in the past.

During the time of the modern world, Archeologists made important discoveries. Grave robbers looted the pyramids and sold the relics to the black market. They broke a particular tomb and destroyed the sarcophagus. Then they removed the body covered in linen and took it outside. The sun rays gave warmth, and the air moved the linen. The robbers left the body inside the vacant house and hid the other stolen relics in the dark room. It started to rain; the wind blew in the darkest night. A peal of thunder roared and ripped the sky with a mysterious moan echoing through the night.

Fate had finally awakened the Queen in her deep slumber, she blinked, and her eyes slowly turned into...

GREEN.