The Book of Damnatio (Part 1: The Watcher)

THE BOOK OF DAMNATIO

PART I: THE WATCHER

BC Digital Commons Edition, 2022

First Published in 2022 by Bridgewater College’s BC Digital Commons

THE BOOK OF DAMNATIO, PART 1: THE WATCHER Copyright © 2022. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electric or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without written permission from the publisher.

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For information, address Bridgewater College, 402 East College Street Bridgewater, VA 22812 Cover image “The Gate”, by Christine Herbst

Table of Contents

Introduction ………………………………………………………………………. 3 Prologue ………………………………………………………………………. 5 Chapter 1 ………………………………………………………………………. 7 Chapter 2 12 Chapter 3 17 Chapter 4 ………………………………………………………………………. 27 Chapter 5 ………………………………………………………………………. 33 Chapter 6 ………………………………………………………………………. 39 Chapter 7 ………………………………………………………………………. 44 Chapter 8 ………………………………………………………………………. 49 Chapter 9 54

Introduction

The benei, taken from Hebrew benei ha-elohim-“sons of God,” are known in English as the Watchers. Though they had fallen as the Fallen Angels (including the Devil) had, they had fallen for the love of human women. Leaving Heaven for these women, they married them and produced off-spring called the Nephilim. They also taught women how to use makeup and (for both men and women) how to use weapons. The benei in this story has had his wife Inanna (taken from the Mesopotamian goddess of fertility, love, and war) murdered and their children drowned. And, like most benei, he himself had been punished for his crime against Elohim. Before the time of Moses, the Hebrews often called God Elohim or Yahweh. And, even stranger, Elohim had a wife named Asherah. Both were respected and glorified by the people of the tribe of Abraham (both through Ishmael and Isaac), but by Moses’ time Asherah became a symbol of pagan religions. In modern times, the closest equivalent to Asherah is Christianity’s Holy Spirit.

The hosts of Heaven speak Adamite (as humanity calls it) and with it comes a different system of time. The time before Adamah, when only Heaven stood, was called Ante Terra (A.T.);

after that was Tempus Enoch (T.E.) the age of the children of Adam and Eve, and the dawn of the Nephilim Post Diluvium (P.D.) was the time after the flood until the end of the Old Testament, followed by Aevum Adami (A.A.), which was the age of Yeshua Natzara, or the new Adam. Nova Eva (N.E.) was the time of the apostles and their new Eve, only to end with Saeculum Christianum (S.C.) which was the launch of Christianity as a major religion. Finis Terrae (F.T.) is Armageddon (which lasts 10,000 years), and finally ends with Regnante Shamayim (R.S.) or the age of Heaven.

With stories taken from both history and the Bible, the benei travels through time as his punishment. Though forbidden to speak to humanity, he frequently ignores this rule and helps change the course of history. Though unnamed throughout the story, the benei tells of his travels as he prays to Mother Asherah for guidance and help on his journey to Heaven. But after thousands of years on Adamah, could he truly be ready to walk amongst his brethren once his voyage is done?

Prologue

Michael and Gabriel hold our child in chains. Elohim watches in consideration, but says nothing else. The Council of Angels gather around and watch. No one says a word as they await for their father to speak. Though I have shown compassion and patience in the past, I do not feel patience or compassion at this time. We were betrayed, and as most of his brothers said, they would do it all over again. Human wives were not allowed because of the catastrophes such a careless marriage produced. Angelic wives were. They knew the rules, and yet they broke them. “My dear son, you have betrayed the Council of Angels and Us. What have you to say for yourself?”

The prisoner looked down and began to cry. Suddenly he bounced up and tried to break his chains. “You murdered Inanna! Now she’s dead!” He seemed irrational, his eyes wild and broken. “You’ve killed her! Right in my arms. Her blood covered my hands, and it’s all your fault! And when I tried to save her, she was grabbed from my arms and dragged to the place of the unnamed!”

“We have not murdered her.” I spoke in a calming voice that quelled Our children. “Your love for the human girl was what killed her. You disobeyed our rules, and she died because of your lust.” I didn’t want to punish him, neither of us did. But he had to for his own sake.

At that, he screamed. “Why did you take her from me, Mother? Why didn’t you kill me instead? I would’ve gladly died for her sake!”

“Your union has brought about offspring that will destroy the world. The Nephilim walk about the world destroying humanity. It’s only a matter of time before they make deals with the unspoken to destroy Heaven as well. Your lust has brought about the end of the world.”

Elohim began to speak our united punishment. “For your punishment, you shall forever walk about Adamah, without being seen by humanity. Since you lusted after humanity so much, you will be with them forever. You are forbidden to speak to them, but you must forever watch them They will wither away before your eyes, but you will remain.” He spoke with justice and, unsurprisingly, love for His fallen child. I could hear in our shared mind and feel it in our shared heart.

My husband went on with our shared voice: “Your name has been stripped from you until the end of your punishment. And your children will be wiped from Adamah in a Great Flood a Great Flood which has already begun.”

As he began to fade away, he screamed and screamed. Love drove humans to sin, but angels were created to be immune from sin. We created them to ignore sin, but our first example of an angel gone bad was the unnamed from Sheol. Temptation; however, can turn even the purest angel into a human being.

He only had to do one thing to return to Heaven: he had to end his love for Inanna.

0 P.D.

Chapter 1

Mother Asherah. Hear my prayer. Father Elohim has banished me and swallowed my children in the flood. Their mother has passed on from this world, never seeing our children washed away from her arms. Beloved Inanna has entered your heavenly gates, and I will never see her again. Oh, dearest Mother, hear me. My sin was for loving Inanna and not my sacred duties. I fell for her sake; I have labored seven years for her hand. End my endless banishment and let me live to serve Father once more.

500 P.D.

I watched with weary eyes as the woman held up her only son. Her husband began to pray blessings to my father. Yet, I laughed. Didn’t he already have a son? He was acting as though this was his first. Though I would think maybe the first child with his wife, but there standing in the corner was his only daughter; their only daughter. The firstborn, born from the wife believed to be barren before she could no longer have children. Yet this son existed despite the woman’s time. Though I had been watching Father Elohim’s favorite for years now, I never understood why he was. My father renamed him Abraham, and told him he would be the father of many

nations, as numerous as the stars. His daughter, who remained unnamed until she was married off years later wasn’t counted. She was the daughter, not the son, so they would be her husband’s descendants not her father’s. Then, they travelled to Egypt, where Abraham’s wife was given maidservants, who could provide her husband with the son she couldn’t produce.

Acting as nothing more than her mother’s maidservant, the daughter left to leave her parents in their time of rejoicing. So I followed. I cared nothing for my father’s favorite; the lives of those around him mattered more to me.

The daughter entered another tent, this one much less decorated, and bowed before the woman. She spoke with bitterness at the girl: “Has my mistress succeeded in giving your father a son?” She asked. When the girl nodded, the woman sighed. “So Ish will inherit nothing if this boy lives. His oldest son will inherit nothing.”

At that, I felt anger. I was faithful to Inanna; Abraham had affairs with his wife’s servants just to have a son. And on top of it, his son, even if he wasn’t his wife’s, would be disinherited simply for having the wrong mother.

The girl sighed. “You can’t try anything for your son’s sake. Father will banish you. Ish deserves the status that will be wrongfully given to Isaac, but it’ll only make things worse in the long run.”

“Ish, come out, please.”

The son of Abraham and his wife’s handmaiden hesitantly approached his forlorn mother. This was Ishmael, the firstborn male from the house of Abraham. I had watched him grow up. He was only eleven, only three years younger than his half-sister, but still strong. He labored in the fields along with his father’s servants-he was more of a man than a child. He never defied his mother.

“You know what lies ahead, don’t you?” His mother asked. Instead, he only looked at his half-sister, who said nothing. His mother hugged him in a comforting manner. “We will prepare for that day, if it ever comes. I will not forsake you, my son.”

The three of them watched patiently as Isaac grew. Just as her mother and father were half-siblings, the daughter was married to her half-brother, Ishmael, to ensure that any children of hers were descendants of Abraham. Yet, this did not satisfy her mother, who spoke to her father. On Isaac’s sixth birthday, she pulled him aside. “Abraham, dear,

you must send Ishmael, his wife, and his mother away. I have watched them and they may try to kill Isaac, so Ishmael can keep his inheritance.”

Her husband only smiled. “Anything you say.”

The thought of that betrayal made me clench my teeth. Those were his children; he was easily talked into disowning his children because his first son didn’t have his wife’s blood. And though I knew it was forbidden, I whispered in his ear that night: “Lord Abraham, take your son Isaac, your only one,” I said ironically. “Whom you love, and go to the land of Moriah. There, offer him up as a burnt offering on one of the heights that I will point out to you. Your Lord Elohim commands it.”

At that, he shook. “I am to offer my Lord the son he had promised me?”

“Lord Elohim and Lady Asherah command it.”

At that, a single tear fell. Yet, I felt no pity for this man. He felt no love for his children if he was willing to banish them and leave them for dead, only because his wife told him to. If he said yes, then that meant he truly didn’t care about any of his children: none of them mattered to him.

For a few minutes, he didn’t speak. I was beginning to believe he wasn’t going to do it when he spoke: “I will obey my Lord.”

The next morning, he mounted a donkey with his son and took the procession to Moriah. They weren’t alone. Isaac’s sister and Ishmael hid in the back. They wore white hoods and kept their heads bowed. And they travelled for two days. When they finally made it, it was nearing daybreak.

“Here it is, Abraham.” I whispered in his ear.

Nodding, he slide off his donkey and helped his six year-old son down. “Stay here with the donkey.” He said glancing back at the procession. His older children looked down to avoid his notice. “We will worship and come back to you.”

Invisible to human sight, I walked along with them, encouraging Abraham here and there to continue along the path. Glancing back, I noticed his children slowly following. Telling him to go to the hill to his right, I walked back to hear them. The sister was watching her father with fear. It was almost as if she knew, despite her father never saying a word. If she were to stop the ceremony, their chances of survival were slim to none.

The daughter glanced over at Ishmael. “Isn’t this unusual?” She glanced back at her father’s servants, who were sleeping deeply, before turning to walk on. “If Father was really worshiping the Heavenly Parents, wouldn’t he have taken you as well? Something about this doesn’t feel right, Ish.”

He shook his head. “What about this does?” As they slowly climbed the hill, they watched their father set up the altar of sacrifice with Isaac’s help. Yet, they didn’t have a ram for sacrifice. “How can they sacrifice anything for the Heavenly Parents if there isn’t anything there? There’s no way he’d just take Isaac, especially at that age.” Then his eyes widened. “He’s going to sacrifice Isaac!”

“What?”

Right before their very eyes, they watched as their father tied their little brother onto a funeral pyre. A child who hadn’t even reached his tenth year. At that, his sister nearly rushed to his aid, but Ishmael held her back. Though she argued with him to let her go, he was too afraid to do so. So I whispered in his ear: “Don’t release her, Ish. Both of you will be banished if Isaac lives.”

“No matter what we do, Isaac will die.”

At that, she screeched. “Father, don’t do it. Isaac doesn’t deserve this!”

Glancing back, Abraham did nothing but sneer. He turned away, and raised the knife in the air. Isaac began to cry. Hugging his wife, Ishmael had her turn away as Abraham brought the knife down. The moment the knife touched Isaac, everyone was thrown back. A bright light shone where Isaac laid. As I approached, I knew that he was dead. Though I had to sacrifice an innocent child to punish a foolish old man, I was proud that I had saved two children who didn’t deserve the fate their demanding father was bringing to them.

Then, the body disappeared and a cloud of heavenly light appeared. Holding the now living Isaac, Archangel Gabriel stood above the altar. Looking over at me, he made it perfectly clear that I had done wrong. Putting the child in his father’s arms, the angel spoke in a voice that was so surreal; once native sounding to my ears, it seemed like the most beautiful sound. “Lord Elohim and Lady Asherah have not ordered the sacrifice of your son, and so They have asked me to return the child to you. The Heavenly Parents give you this ram as a sacrifice instead.” Then he turned to me, he spoke in what humans refer to as

Adamite: “Mother Asherah has decided to extend your punishment. Go back whence you came, benei.”

Abraham deserved to be punished, but he was “Their favorite”, which meant he couldn’t be touched. The family gathered together to sacrifice the ram. Though, Ishmael and his wife were later banished (despite my efforts), everything seemed well. But I began to burn with a vendetta. Though I wanted reentry into Shamayim, I couldn’t stand the unfairness of this world. It was a fact I wanted to change. If I could, I would defeat Michael and the seraphim who washed this planet of my children, and murdered my beautiful Inanna. Just as Abraham held guilt, they did so tenfold.

Chapter 2

Dear Mother Asherah, save my soul. I know you and Father Elohim are just. I should’ve never gone against your will with Inanna. My love for dearest Inanna will never end, despite my knowing how wrong it is to love her. I should never have judged other humans based on what we had. Please, end this eternal torment. If it is what you desire, I’ll never see Inanna again. I can’t end this love, but I’ll give her up. For you and Father, I’ll give her up. No matter how painful, I’ll return to Shamayim and never seek her out. Amen. 930 P.D.

Case after case. Accusation after accusation. It just never seemed to end. Though most of the cases were mediocre, a few had various body parts removed when found guilty. Those, I must say, were the more interesting ones. Most of the others had more to do with handing out fines (or overdue ones) and unpaid loans.

Once I felt satisfaction that I had a good understanding for human justice, I started to leave that courtroom behind. The courtroom of the city of the first fair king in history. The next case was of a young woman accused of adultery. Turning around, I smirked. The tables were now turned. It

would turn out alright for them, but not for her. So, I watched as the judges debated for a few minutes. As I approached, I heard them announce the death penalty if she was found guilty. It was going to be a swift trial, it seemed. So, knowing I wasn’t allowed to, I whispered in their ears.

“Toss her into the lake!” They all said as one. She looked up in shock and was carried down the hill. They were all shouting the same thing and looked more like a crazy mob than a court of justice. It was wrong of me to not allow the trial to go on as it should’ve, but there was a good chance she was innocent and they weren’t going to allow that. Her accuser may have been nothing more than a jealous husband.

Carrying her to the lake, they cheered. At that, they tossed her in. Just as I suspected, she was unharmed and the river washed her ashore. Though angry that the river had proved her innocent, the mob let it go and carried on. After all, their river god, Enbilulu, had spoken. And they couldn’t defy a god. Evil things would happen to those who did so, and they were never spoken of again.

Scenes like that one weren’t uncommon, unfortunately. Though, the women usually would drown, but not because they were guilty. The men would often float right up to the surface, making them believe men were more likely to be innocent than women. The idea of it made me laugh. It wasn’t their fault they didn’t know about how human bodies were made; I wish Father Elohim would grant me permission to tell them. After all, the thing was beyond reason and was laughable. How could a river tell them who was guilty and who wasn’t?

When the mob swarmed up the hill to see the next set of cases, I went the other way, back into the city. For once, a human came close to Shamayim paradise. I chuckled to myself and passed through the crowd of merchants and customers. Though he had been dead for almost two centuries, Hammurapi got it right, or at least, close to it. Guilty only when proven so. Though some punishments and trials were over the top, I didn’t complain. At least humans could judge each other based on innocence now.

The city, once so beautiful, was falling into ruins beyond repair. The Hittites were advancing. They were coming. After living in Babylon for several centuries, I could see the end of the end.

Over the next few years, the Hittites arrive. As the battle rages on, I can see it happening all over again. As the invaders entered houses and dragged out screaming women and children, I remembered Inanna and I asleep in our home. We were dreaming of the calm before the storm;

and in both that time centuries ago, and in this attack, I could see the storm over our heads. The Hittites were murdering and raping anything in their way; how could the Babylonians be ready when they didn’t know it was coming? Suddenly, I was dragged out of sleep in that cold memory; I could hear Inanna’s screams as she struggled to break free from their grasps; I tried to break free to save her. The city is being burnt down, in both the present and the past, and I was unable to save either city. I loved that city; it brought me pain to see it fall into ruins at the hands of those who hated it, who longed for it. I watched it happening before my eyes over and over again as the men, women, and children were brutally executed or shamed in some other way that I couldn’t possibly describe. Inanna being slaughtered before my very eyes, her spirit dragged away by my brethren angels to the depths of the Fallen Angel’s fiery realm. Her punishment was for loving a benei; for loving me. The Babylonians’ punishment was only because of human nature. Why did I want to be one with humanity? It was nothing but bloodshed and violence. I could only relive those horrid memories as the city fell-to me, it happened again and again. Back amongst the battle of humans, I pray to my father above as the chaos ensues around me: “Help them. They may fail to recognize you as the One, but don’t ignore this plight. If I could I would help them. As the centuries go by, I fall weaker, but you are steady. Please save them, or allow me to save them.”

Yet, I knew. We were the ones who taught the human beings to fight. For those of us who were banished to Adamah during these centuries, we were to blame. We had to live with the price. I knew later that He wouldn’t answer my prayer simply because I prayed it. He had no way to hear me. There was no way He could’ve. That connection was dead. Now, I had to watch as countless problems of war and pain happen over and over again.

This battle just seemed to go on. Flames rocked the city and the Hittites had placed their aim carefully. Arrows bloated out the sky and it was nothing but a bloodbath. Screams of terror from both adults and children echoed through the night. The days went by as I watched them die one by one. This battle was longer than anything I had ever seen. Life was filled with such hatred that overshadowed the good. I remembered when life had no problems. All I had to do was my job and life would have mundane and happy, both for me and for the people of Adamah. This was my fault. I took all the blame.

As the dust cleared and the fires died, I was the only thing that remained. I was alone, and would be forever. In the aftermath of the bloodied ruins, the invaders walked about the battlefield

in a sort of victory march. The battle was over. Hundreds of Babylonians were dead, and amongst the pile of bodies, there were other animals that had been slaughtered as well. It was a slaughterhouse, though not the first that I had seen. It was my fault. I was among the angels that betrayed my post and taught violence to humanity. I wanted to teach them how to defend themselves, but they only used it for destruction. All of it was my fault; every single unnatural death. It was our fault that humanity descended into chaos; we had fallen for our parents creation, and ended up destroying it. Now, there was only one way to save it, and They wouldn’t go to the planet until times seemed hopeless. How was that not now? How could this time of darkness and blood not be considered hopeless? Yet I knew. It had to be hopeless for the people who understood who They were. They were the descendants of the prophet Abraham through his sons. They stopped on bodies as they watched the scene before them. It didn’t matter that these were human beings. Like most conquering peoples, they didn’t care about the victims butchered around them. I would’ve been surprised if they did.

“Well,” said the one. “That was an interesting battle.” He looked around him and smiled. His companion laughed and shook his head. “You know empires don’t fall in a day.” He suddenly grew bitter. “There shouldn’t have been this much carnage. If only they had listened to our warnings before.”

“Eh. What can you do?”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw some soldiers digging through the wreckage. Without warning, they dragged a young woman out by her feet as she clawed at the stones around her. As she screamed in terror, I realized it was the same woman I had saved before. If I hadn’t said anything all those months ago, she would have faced a less gruesome fate than the one I believed was now before her. Was it always her fate to end up with a horrible death, and I interfered, only to bring about an even more horrible one? Was this what I had done to this poor, defenseless woman? Was it my fault?

“Bring her here.”

At that, I felt panic. I didn’t want to watch what they would do to her. Yet, I knew I deserved this for interfering with her death before. Like the snake from the garden, it would only come back to bite me. I saw only Inanna in her place. Scared and damaged Inanna, who had a fate worse than death. Since I couldn’t save my only love, I would do everything to save this woman. Inanna deserved it, even if it was through a nameless woman.

“Touch her and I will break your neck.”

He stumbled back. His men looked at him in confusion. “Which one of you threatened me?” When everyone simply stared at each other, he screamed in absolute terror. “Which one of you did it? I will rip your guts out!”

With that, the group of men began infighting. Once an organized unit, they became enemies over simple things. Something I saw most men do after the flood. While they were distracted, I whispered in the poor female’s ear to run. She did as I suggested. As the men killed each other, she ran across the former battlefield. I watched her run: to her freedom; to a new hope. The one survivor finished off his brothers without a thought, and though he was weak from the onslaught, he still managed to call out to his would-be victim.

Then it happened. Just as it did centuries before, I watched as another soldier grabbed the poor girl. Without a thought, he slowly began slicing her head off. She was dead and it was my fault, again.

“INANNA!”

Chapter 3

Oh Holy Mother. I have waited for death’s brave arms to release me. You waited a hundred years after Inanna’s death to punish me. If only I could be taken as well. Why let her suffer alone? We both have separate punishments, mine in a world that is harsh for a benei, and her in a world harsh for a human. Yet it was not her fault. Take me instead. Free dear Inanna, and let my punishment be in her place. I wait for you, Mother Asherah. I wait for your word to end her torment and make it mine. Amen. 1160 P.D.

I watched the boy grow up. I watched as thirteen year-old Sebat Sitamun drew the basket from the water nearly fourteen years before. Though it only felt like a couple days to me, it was years for the Kemetics. She named the boy Thutmoses, and told her father, Pharaoh Amenhotep III, that he was the son of a Kemetic man who died. Wanting to please his daughter, the pharaoh agreed. It wasn’t long before he married her.

So the adolescent stared at the Hebrew woman. She smiled at him softly and reached out her hand. He flinched. In the corner, his mother watched with a dark look in her eyes. He couldn’t believe this woman’s story. All that she said was a lie.

Going back to the mother he knew, the adolescent crossed his arms and frowned. When he turned to a guard, he said: “Take her away.” The Hebrew was dragged away, and behind her, the daughter gloomily followed suite. It was her fault it happened in the first place; her fault she dropped a vase when he entered the room and wanted to touch her brother’s hand. He didn’t know who she was, so why should he let her near him. “Dismiss them.” Thutmoses said with a brief wave of his arm.

What did he care about simple servants within his house, especially ones that constantly lied? But his mother drew him closer and whispered sweet words in his ears. Though his mother had married the pharaoh when he was nothing more than a child, he was his mother’s only child, but not his father’s. Yet, this was his mother for as long as he remembered, and it was going to stay that way. Why would he want to give up a life of luxury and happiness for a life of torment and hard labor with the people of his blood? How could a Hebrew servant be his mother?

“Sitamun,” Her husband said, approaching Thutmoses and his mother. His mother turned to him. “Make preparations for the boy. He will be married to Meritaten in a few years and I want him to prepare for their union.”

Thutmoses knew. He was going to marry his cousin-his uncle Amenhotep’s eldest daughter. Though they felt nothing for one another, he gladly excepted that role; after all, she was the prettiest girl in the palace. She was the daughter of Nefertiti, the most gorgeous woman in all of Kemet. I smiled as I could read his thoughts from his facial expression alone. His mother began leading him down the hallway with a slight nod.

As his father walked away, Thutmoses turned to his mother. “What did that lady mean by what she said? That I had to be the baby she lost? How could that be? She knows I’m your son.”

His words made me laugh. This boy knew nothing. I had seen him when he was drawn from the water; when his birth mother became his wet nurse; when Sitamun took the child from the woman’s arms forever. This boy was her son. Yet Sitamun couldn’t bear the thought of losing her only child. This boy was hers now, and she was going to do everything she could to keep him as her own. I shook my head. Humans were so fickle. Only Inanna was pure and the closer to perfect than anyone else who ever lived on this Adamah. Even those among Father Elohim’s

chosen people had some evil and selfish desires in them. After all, I watched Jacob and his older sons massacre an entire civilization because their prince raped Jacob’s daughter. The lies they told. They knew Dinah had married the prince in secret, but they couldn’t stand it. It was better to kill everyone who knew about the marriage. Only incestual marriages were allowed, to preserve the bloodline. Just as Kemet did.

Thutmoses’ mother sighed. “Shortly before you were born, your father sent a warning down to the children of Israel: he told them that their population was increasing at rate Kemet was unable to keep up with. We couldn’t feed both our people and the Israelites if we wanted to survive the famine. So he told them to leave. When they refused, he put them to work, hoping to end the population boom. It didn’t. So he told the midwives to murder the newborns. When they refused, the massacre began.”

I remember seeing it. It was just like the slaughtering of the innocents at the hands of Jacob and his sons. As usual, history was repeating itself.

“They were massacred?”

She nodded gravely. “That woman lost her husband shortly after she had a son, because he tried to stop the guards from taking away his son. A life for a life. The son, however, didn’t make it in the end. Or, at least, that’s what she used to say.” Sitamun sighed. “I will tell you the rest when you are older.”

As she promised, he did learn his true heritage. Thutmoses was in charge of the Hebrew foremen in the fields at seventeen when he learned. But once he married in a couple months, he would begin his training as a priest of the sun god. Yet, he couldn’t get it out of his mind: his blood was of the poisonous kind. He was not as pure as his mother was; he was tainted by the cursed blood of the Hebrews. How could his mother love him despite knowing the venom that ran through his veins? Though infuriated, he felt he was lesser and that he didn’t deserve to be held by his mother. For years, he had believed otherwise. Now, he wasn’t sure who or what he was; he wanted to be his mother’s son, but how could he be with the infectious blood given to him through the Hebrew woman he dismissed years before. Though he had no idea what happened to her, I knew. His birth mother was sent to the fields and later died from heat exhaustion. His sister married her uncle that year, knowing she had nowhere else to go. Though he didn’t know about the damage he caused-and even if he did, I doubt he would’ve cared-he still wondered.

Out of the corner of his eye, Thutmoses saw one of his fellow men strike a slave who had twisted his ankle. It did nothing but confuse him. His blood said he should care, but his heart wanted nothing to do with the situation. The next day, the body of the Kemetic was discovered, and though no one knew who had done it, the Hebrew slaves were immediately blamed. The ones accused were put to death. Though I had not seen the murder, I knew it was Thutmoses who had done it. Shortly after the execution, he admitted to Sitamun what had happened. For a moment, she stared at him with tears in her eyes. Then, she held him close and sang a Kemetic lullaby. I remember it well:

“When the night calls, I hear your voice Whisper my name No matter what you hear I will love you No matter where you are I will love you You are my baby Even when the rain falls You are my own When the dark swallows the light.”

Even to this day, I sing this to myself. Sitamun had the sweetest voice I had heard since Inanna. She gave her son what he needed: confirmation as to who he was. And for a month, he stayed on, until his father found out. The moment he learned that the son he raised with his daughter-wife was a Hebrew, he had him driven out of Kemet.

Sitamun died of heartbreak shortly after her son was banished from Kemet. In response, her father married her younger sister and moved on. Thutmoses was unaware of this, but I still despised him. As he stumbled through the desert for five months until his arrival at Midian, the pharaoh died. He was replaced by Amenhotep IV. His father’s wives, his grandmother and his younger sister, fled Kemet early in his reign, hoping to find Thutmoses.

Thutmoses crossed the Red Sea on the last day of his perilous journey, not knowing where he was. Stumbling off the raft mid-afternoon, he made it to the well on the shore and drew a bucket of water. As he drank his water, he noticed a group of sisters, ranging from ten to fifteen, approach the well with their flock. While the eldest lifted water and gave it to the sheep, a wild group of shepherds approached. They acted as though they had some kind of euphoric experience where they dreamed of pretty faces and endless pleasure during the day. Their words were very relaxed, though excited. I knew instantly, they smoked some opium not long beforehand. Though I was unaware if Kemet used it, I knew the Crescent did.

Once they were caught sight of the girls, they stopped short. Their euphoria seemed to have disappeared in a single instant. One man burst from the group and hurried to the girls, smacking the bucket out of the one girl’s hands. He slapped her before speaking, in an angry, but very smooth voice: “You filthy women. We have told you to never return to this well again. Now, I will slay you with my own hands!” At that, he drew his sword.

Wishing they were able to see me, I prayed to Elohim to let me do something, but I went unanswered. Thankfully, I didn’t need too. Thutmoses stepped up, with every ounce of energy left in him. Taking a rock, he threw it at the back of the man’s head.

Turning, the shepherd seemed even angrier. When his eyes hit Thutmoses, he seemed to hesitate-after all, he was almost half the fallen prince’s size. Hoping to save face, he stood his ground, but held his sword away from the girls. He aimed it at the prince with a face full of fury and disgust.

In response, Thutmoses unsheathed his sword and smirked. “You know who I am, don’t you? I have fled from the land of Kemet because I killed a man like you. A man who needs to make up for what he lacks, by picking on picking on the defenseless. Sounds cowardice to me, now doesn’t it?”

“What did you say?”

And to be perfectly honest, I was laughing hysterically at the drugged shepherd. His voice alone sounded ridiculous and over the top. Though I had to say, now I understand why teaching humans about the recreational usage of plants was forbidden by Elohim and Asherah. It was because of this nonsense.

Thutmoses laughed. “You heard me! You make up for what you severely lack by picking on children.”

At that, the other shepherds began to laugh. The lone shepherd spun around. “Shut up!”

“If you want a fight, I’m right here!”

Let’s just say, Thutmoses won the fight pretty easily. Being stronger and more agile, he won without much of a problem He pinned the shepherd to the ground and looked up at the others, grinning. They ran away terrified, and the man groaned. Though he couldn’t feel much pain at the moment, he still felt his high crash.

Thutmoses smiled. “If you want you live, you must understand that neither you nor your comrades will ever be welcome here again. Do you get that?” The man nodded, and once released, made a run for it. Though I laughed at the stupidity displayed in these men, I knew events like this happened far too often. Turning back to the prince, I noticed the girls were gathered around him and try to lift him, though they couldn’t do it. The oldest than ran off to find someone else to help. The prince was barely conscience. Their father willingly took him in and decided that a proper reward was well-deserved once the prince had awoken.

While Prince Thutmoses slept, I whispered to their father. I told him who the man was and that he had murdered a man in Kemet for the mistreatment of his people. I even spoke his full name, which I said would not be used. He smiled upon hearing those words, but was silent. How could I respond to that? This man, who was head priest of Midian from what I could gather, was very strange compared to his people. He seemed accepting and understanding, a trait I found but rarely in humans. Only Inanna was the closest to those traits, but unlike the priest, she had even better traits that reminded me of my people. Oh, how I missed her.

...

I remember when I had met her all those years ago. I was a Principality angel, one who helped guide civilization. I was one of the members who taught Adam and Eve, as well as their sons. I was the one who guided Cain to a new civilization after Elohim and Asherah banished him. It was almost a thousand years after Adam’s death that Enoch began his reign. He told his followers about us, the Principalities who watched over mankind, and the ones who betrayed their posts. For about fifteen human years, I laughed at the idea of leaving my post, but then I saw her. Inanna, the first daughter of Enoch’s nephew. She was only seventeen when I saw her for the first time, and I begot my duties to see her. Though I only observed for the first year, I began to agree with my brothers and completely abandoned the Heavenly realm.

Her father, Rakel, was beginning to negotiate for his daughter’s marriage when I entered the tent. I told him that I was there for Inanna’s hand, and that in turn, I was prepared to work for him and give him sacred knowledge. He told me he would have to consider it; the next day, he told me that if I worked for him for seven years, he would give me his daughter’s hand. So I did, I worked day and night for her alone. While her father was taking care of business, she would often visit me, allowing my love for her to only grow stronger. She was a frequent guest in Enoch’s home when he would hold meetings regarding the angels. When I told her about my heritage, she laughed. At first, she didn’t believe me, but then I showed her my true form; instead of fleeing as I believed she would, she smiled. On the end of those seven years, Rakel gave me her hand and we had seven children together. The other angels above, knowing our marriage was forbidden, called our children Nephilim. Now, every single member of my family is dead.

...

I focused my attention to the present once more. Thutmoses had awoken for the first time in a week, only to find himself in unfamiliar surroundings. Though I could tell he was dreaming about his mother, it was never to be. I didn’t have the heart to tell him that she was dead.

Rising, the prince exited the tent, not completely sure of his surroundings. It was almost afternoon on the day he awoke from his week-long recovery. After being blinded by the sun’s light, he stumbled back before he adjusted. His eyes seemed to focus on the abode before him, and he made his way over.

In the abode, he came across a gathering. There, the priest of Midian made a goat sacrifice and tossed it into the flames. He told his followers about the message of the one true lord. At first, I titled my head in confusion. He spoke about Elohim in praise and honor, along with other pagan gods. Suddenly, he raised his hands: “Here me now, dear people! The evil goddess Asherah has taken over some of our people, leading them into darkness. She has entered their homes and taken their virtue, their minds to please the unnamed one. Beware, the goddess Asherah!”

If I had any true form, I would’ve strangled him right then and there, but as such, I couldn’t do much. While the prince simply watched, I made my way over as the people murmured amongst themselves. In his ear, I spoke in a heinous voice: “You dare insult the name of Asherah! I put up with your worship of false idols, which is a crime in it of itself, but to speak so poorly about your Heavenly Mother makes me want to rip out your spine. She is the only reason you can have

pleasure every day. The reason you even have a mother. Dare speak such abhorrent words about Her again, and I will find a way to do so.”

His face only grew pale as I spoke those words, but he tried to ignore them as he ushered Thutmoses over. He sat beside the priest and waited through the sermon. Once it was over, food was passed around the room. Everyone, man, woman, and child, each received a helping and discussed matters in tongues that were becoming foreign to me. Without thinking about it, the Midian priest asked the man to tell him his story. Fearful he would be excluded from the community, Prince Thutmoses spoke plainly about his tale, leaving out certain details that would identify him immediately. At the end, he said something that didn’t surprise me: he said his name was Moses.

Near the end of his tale, a young woman with dark hair and darker skin than those around her sat beside the priest and offered some fruit. Thutmoses stared at her without thinking about it, causing the priest to laugh out loud: “So, Moses, if that is your real name. You have taken an interest in my oldest daughter, Zipporah. I’m glad. For saving my younger daughters, I willingly offer you her hand in marriage.”

At that, I smirked as Thutmoses flinched. “I’m sorry, Sir...” “Reuben.”

“I’m truly sorry, Reuben,” the young man said. “I cannot accept your offer now. I have already been through an arranged betrothal. I really do not wish to do so again.”

Nodding the high priest of Midian dropped the issue that day and moved on to livelier topics. Later, he offered the boy a place to stay as well as a job. This was much more easily accepted. Reuben, however, would try again.

Around midnight, he told Zipporah to go to the prince’s tent. Though unsure, she did as her father said and left his room. And with that, the priest went to sleep. Knowing what I was doing was wrong, I whispered words of hatred in his ear. After all, I would protect my precious mother until the end. His words of evil were to be ended right there and then. Who cared about that stupid prince and his possible affair with that girl. I wanted this man punished for his blasphemous words and actions against Mother.

The man rolled around uncomfortably that night, and I smirked. Leaving the room, I went out to the courtyard, where I saw Zipporah and Thutmoses arguing over her purpose. Laughing, I

came closer to make out their words. He told her to never go into his tent without permission again and she argued back that she had to. She yelled some ridiculous argument that her father was worried that she was going to die alone, but he blasted back that he was going to leave if that behavior continued. It didn’t last long. When the fight got boring, I turned away. Suddenly, it ended. Turning, I saw them kiss before Thutmoses pushed her away and reentered his tent. She left to go her room without a thought. The only thing I thought was that humans were stupid.

The years flew by, and though the two were almost together, I didn’t stay to watch their miserable little story. I stayed to torture the priest. I was forcing harmful ideas into his head during the night. My revenge for Mother was almost complete. His sermons were becoming messy and Zipporah was forced to take him out of the room so she could complete the sermon herself. Thutmoses had fallen for her; I could tell. He asked for her hand when he turned twenty and her father happily accepted the union.

On the day of the wedding, however, I managed to push the priest too far. I watched as he killed himself with his sword. However, I wasn’t overly pleased with the fact that Zipporah was the one to get him for her wedding later that morning. It definitely wasn’t a pleasant sight to see, as she couldn’t go to her own wedding that day. Her brothers rescheduled and Thutmoses sat with her as she mourned. Once the funeral was over, he told her it was going to be okay, but she sat up in despair and anger.

“You say it’s going to be okay? My father’s dead! My mother’s dead! You’re the only one I have left, and I haven’t even told you the full truth about who I am.”

At that he simply stared. “What are you talking about?”

“Do you want to know why I’ve been rejected by my tribe?” She asked, storming her room. She threw some of the scrolls hanging on the walls, and her fiancé shrunk back. I thought it was hilarious that she didn’t notice. “My father married a Cushite woman, but she died giving birth to me. Being his favorite wife, my father mourned for her night and day. He ignored his other wives and paid attention to only me for the first three years of my life. Their mothers despise me because of that and the rest of the village calls me a foreigner. I am an outcast because of my skin and heritage.”

“I don’t see any problem with that. I am a Hebrew by blood and a Kemetic by adoption, so how am I any different than you?”

His words alone comforted her. After their union, they lived five years with her people, having first a daughter, Sitamun, and a then son, Gershom. It was during their final year in Midian that Thutmoses, a shepherd in his brother-in-laws’ fields, was searching for a lost sheep on Mount Horeb. And then, he saw a strange sight. A bush, ablaze, but not on fire. And from it, the voice of Gabriel spoke: “Moses, Moses, do not be afraid.”

Chapter 4

Mother Asherah, I have punished a man who betrayed you. He spoke ill of you, and so I punished him. I know what I have done is wrong, but I fail to care about anything anymore. The world is failing to recognize you anymore; you’ve become nothing but a shadow compared to Father Elohim, and I won’t stand for it. Mother, let me be your champion against those who persecute you. Let them love you once more. Amen.

1170 P.D.

The children of Zipporah followed their parents into the desert. Unaware of the problem now placed before them, they carried on. Gershom was the most rowdy, being less than five, and kept begging his parents for simple things. Unfortunately, neither child was ever to see their homeland again. With no reason for Zipporah to return, the couple agreed to take the children with to his homeland.

As the months carried on, I waited for them to be struck down. Without thinking about it, I decided to drive them to madness. Without thinking, I made the choice: unlike his people before him, Thutmoses had not been circumcised, nor had his son. So, to his wife, I spoke haunting words:

“Dear Zipporah, your husband has failed in his duty to honor his lord. Both him and Gershom remain uncircumcised. If they remain so when they return to Kemet, your husband will be swallowed by the angel of death.”

In his ear, I whispered: “Thutmoses, you have been chosen by the Lord to save your people from the chains of slavery, yet you have not accepted their traditions. Lord Elohim will have you and your son killed before you make it to Kemet.”

Discussing this amongst themselves while the children slept, I smirked in glee. A month before they left Midian, Father Elohim had ordered Thutmoses and Zipporah to go to Kemet and speak to Pharaoh Amenhotep IV. Let my people go. The Hebrews were enslaved, and I had seen their torment with my very eyes. Yet, I couldn’t stand those who arrogantly believed they were my Heavenly Parents’ only special ones.

Taking her son, Zipporah did what she thought best. She grabbed a rock and circumcised her child. She then did so to her husband. Standing, she held the foreskin up and shouted to the sky words of strength and faith. She then burned it.

And with that, they journeyed forward. None one said a word to each other, and the family of four travelled onwards. Yet, a few days before they arrived in Kemet, news of a third child reached Thutmoses’ ears. The celebrations were short as they arrived at the gate. Though a third child meant less food all around, it didn’t matter. The man might have a second son.

Demanding an audience with the pharaoh himself, Thutmoses revealed himself to be the pharaoh’s brother who disappeared. He knew that his heritage hadn’t been released to most of the kingdom, but he was in doubt that his brother would accept him into the fold once more. Yet, he had to try.

“Prince Thutmoses,” the new pharaoh said, his voice as cold as ice and his eyes like flames. “You have returned to your homeland after these many years. Father, as you know, has died. My mother has fled to the desert, as well as our sister, never to return, all for you. You have killed one Kemetic and been the cause of two royal deaths.”

Thutmoses ignored the claim. “Where is my mother?”

At that, the court broke into laughter. Zipporah, holding her son, stood tall and proud as she faced those around her. Their daughter, Sitamun, hid behind her mother’s

dress. Thutmoses refused to back down as the pharaoh told him of the demise of the first Sitamun. Though clearly agitated, he stood his ground.

I had a strange feeling the fallen prince would be executed if he didn’t get to his request soon. After all, Amenhotep clearly couldn’t stand the sight that was before him: the fallen brother.

To be honest, I agreed, but in my mind, he was a better person than his most of his forefathers. But his brother clearly didn’t think so. It took him only a moment for his mouth to curl into a smile, a wicked one at that. I knew what coming. It wasn’t like I didn’t know what was going to happen when I saw it almost every day.

“Well, then, brother. Why have you come back?”

At that, Thutmoses threw down his staff. I raised my eyebrows at the snake, but nothing more. It slithered to the pharaoh, while everyone else instantly backed away. “I have asked you to release the people of Israel! My Lord Elohim commands you to do so. I, His humble servant, merely kneel at your feet.”

“What?” Amenhotep laughed. “Why would you care about slaves? You are a Kemetic prince! My priests can do more than the Lord of Israel.”

Thutmoses stared him squarely in the eyes. “Let my people go!”

Amenhotep sighed. “They’re slaves, brother. Nothing more. I will allow you into the palace once more if you forget this foolish nonsense.”

“Let my people go.”

At that, the pharaoh simply dismissed them. He didn’t speak a single word as they were led away. The family was given no quarters for the night and had nothing. No shelter, no food, no warmth. The Hebrew slaves would give them no shelter due to their fear of the fallen prince, and the Kemetics wouldn’t in fear of their pharaoh. So, they simply set up camp outside the city limits and waited.

With that, I moved on. I moved to the front steps of the palace and to the main living areas. Then, into the sleeping quarters of the pharaoh and his wife. They slept peacefully and had dreams of power and wealth. But I used what little power I had left to infect their dreams. If Elohim wanted His people to be free, I was going to do what He wanted. I ensured their dreams consisted of the wonderful things of Elohim and Asherah. I told them about the goodness of the sun my Mother and Father made. I brought warnings of plague if they didn’t make peace with the Hebrews.

Yes, interfering was against the rules, especially since I went extremely far. When I slipped out that night, I was visited by the archangel Gabriel. He looked at me for a moment before unrolling a scroll. I knew what it was before he even read it.

“‘For breaking the rules, yet again, Mother Asherah and Father Elohim have decided to continue the woman’s punishment for all eternity.’ Why couldn’t you just leave it be? You only keep punishing yourself by adding to these people’s troubles. They would’ve released Inanna centuries ago if you didn’t interfere with humanity.”

Glaring at him, I didn’t speak. The Adamite language was becoming so foreign to me: there wasn’t a human alive who even spoke it. All of my brothers had been locked away until Armageddon, so there was no one. I learned every civilization’s language once I was there for centuries. Yet, the civilization would eventually fade to dust, and I would still remain. No one would ever know me. I was a shadow. Though their punishment involved imprisonment for all eternity, they weren’t alone. I was doomed to walk Adamah unseen and alone until the end of humanity.

“Do you have nothing to say?”

“No,” I grumbled. “There’s no point.”

Nodding, the archangel departed, and once more, I was all alone. And while the wind blew the sand and the night creatures whistled sweet tunes in our ears. The only light came from Osiris and the eye of Horus, or as the Greeks called it, Selene. Inanna was forever unreachable. I remembered when I tried to save her. And I remembered how I failed.

...

Though I knew their gods were only past pharaohs and their underworld wasn’t accurate, I had to say their interpretation of events was very impressive. Yet, I remembered visiting that unholy place. Though the archangels told me to return to my sacred duties once they butchered Inanna, I ignored them. I went to find her. I went to that fiery, torturous place of sickness to find her. I made one simple deal with the unnamed one: Inanna’s undamaged soul for my wings. He accepted.

So I shed my angelic identity to save her. The unnamed one revealed her soul and I offered myself. And before my very eyes, Inanna was brought before me. Together, we

traveled through the first six of the Nine Circles. She was considered a heretic for loving me. I was, after all, a traitor, and loving the enemy was heretical.

When we crossed the next layer, all I saw was battle after battle. At that point, the land of the unnamed one would be considered almost vacant compared to today. Most of the men and women were simply fighting for no reason. It was simply battle after battle for the sake of bloodshed. Shielding her from the violence, I led Inanna away from the terrifying sight into the next circle.

The next circle was entertaining to me. We both laughed as the people fought over how much money they deserved. Though they would sometimes get into fistfights over it, there really wasn’t much to observe. No one noticed us as we passed through as silent as the cosmos and slipped into the land of those who were forced to eat forever. They could never stop; it didn’t matter if they were full. Their punishment was eating forever and forever without stopping even once.

Our next stop, though brief, was for adulterers. As I thought back on it, I hoped some of the human beings I visited became permanent residents there. We passed through to find our way into the last circle, which only included those who were good in heart but did not believe in Elohim or Asherah. It was nothing more than a Heaven for the nonbelievers.

As we passed through, we waited for the gate to open. It took some time, and when it did, I led her through the gates of misery and into the limbo between the realm of the celestial; the space between the mortal realm and the realm of death. Glancing back at her for the first time, I laughed. I had won the battle. We were victorious. I should’ve known better. Our hands separated and Inanna was dragged into the eternal realm of torture and the archangels chained me. I screamed after her and she howled my name, the name that has been stripped from me. As with every ending, her end was the opposite of happy and only tore me into pieces. I would never see beloved Inanna again.

...

“My dear brother. My wife and I have discussed your situation and we have come to a different conclusion.”

Watching from the shadows, I stood still and held my breath. Pharaoh Amenhotep summoned his brother and his wife to the throne room. He seemed rather happy for a man about to make a horrible decision. Thutmoses and Zipporah stared at the pharaoh, anticipating the worst.

But, unlike what I expected, he didn’t have the couple, or their children, sentenced to death. He did something rather unexpected.

“Unlike what you believe, I have had a vision. My brother, both Nefertiti and I have seen it before our very eyes: the sun god came to us in a dream to tell us that there is only one true god of this world. His name isn’t Elohim, but Aten. He rules over the world with wisdom and strength. There are no other gods. Your people are right. I am releasing them from slavery. All of Kemet will join your religion under the true god Aten!”

I almost fainted at his words. He got that from my message?

And for the next decade, he was true to his word. Thutmoses was elected as the head priest, with Zipporah as his assistant. Their children: Sitamun, Gershom, and Eliezer, were educated and raised with the pharaoh’s only son, Tutankhamun Nebkheperure. Amenhotep changed his name to Akhenaten and ruled jointly with his wife. And after his early death, Nefertiti ruled in his stead. It wasn’t until an advisor poisoned her and put the only heir on the throne that life became bittersweet. Led by his advisors, the boy would be known by Israel as the pharaoh who enslaved them once more.

Elohim and Asherah, afraid their people would be massacred, began the plagues. I watched as the innocents were killed over the course of five years as the wrath of my Parents came down upon the people.

Then, I did the unthinkable: Gabriel came to visit me and instruct me about the final plague. An angel had to be sent to kill the firstborn sons of all of Kemet, but none of them wanted to take the task as the Angel of Death who would sweep through the nation and unwind the souls of the firstborns. So I agreed to take up the task. Walking past the posts covered in blood, I removed the souls behind the bloodless posts. Then, I got to Pharaoh Tutankhamun’s only son. Simply touching his skull, the boy fell limp. Once the deed was done, I cried. No angel in the celestial realm wanted to take this task, so it had to fall to me. I know that Thutmoses led the Israelites out of Kemet, but I did not follow; I wallowed in my own misery. I let it consume me for decades.

Chapter 5

Oh Mother Asherah, I plead for Your mercy. The years have gone by and for me, they seem like an eternity. All I want is to return to Your great clemency and enter the realm of Your glory and love. Oh great Mother, the people may see You as the mistress of deception but I will always know of Your goodness. All praise to You, almighty Mother. I pray for Your greatness to welcome me back to my sacred duties, and allow Inanna to walk the halls of the celestial realm instead of baring this terrible torment. Amen. 1324 P.D.

I remember my own wedding so many centuries ago. The sky had been so clear and blue, with the sun’s heat being tolerable. The green hills made way for the winds and the trees sang their odes of love. The sound of singing could be heard far and wide, and the sound of children ran through the village as they played. A time so beautiful was now lost; I being the only living creature alive to remember such a time.

While I helped Inanna’s father prepare up on that hillside, Inanna’s mother helped her get ready. Her ten year-old sister, Emzara, helped the best she could. Enoch had left the world during

my seven year trial; it was during that time that Enoch’s great-grandson was born. I remember the strange circumstances surrounding his birth. Lamech had left to go on a spiritual journey, leaving his young wife with family. She was secluded to solitude during his time away, but she was found to be three months pregnant when he returned. It was a bizarre incident, but as I told the family, it must have been a sign from Elohim and Asherah. After all, I could see that she hadn’t been touched since her husband’s absence. Though they had an idea as to who I was, they were uncertain. I knew something was coming.

As the flutes played at the wedding, I stood at the front of the altar. Rakel’s relatives gathered around as he lead his daughter to the altar. Though their previous patriarch had been taken body and soul to the Heavens, they acted as though Rakel’s father was the clan’s new patriarch. He acted as our cleric for the time being.

There she was: glorious Inanna. Flowers decorated her long dark curls and a white robe swept across her shoulders to her feet. Her smile lit up her brown eyes and made her brown freckles even bigger. She was the only human I ever loved.

Her father gave me her and we presented ourselves to my parents, knowing my defiance would cost us everything. She didn’t deserve the fate I delivered to her. It was my fault. She will never leave my memories, and I sweat that I will fight for her until the end of time.

Weddings are glorious times. They are happy and full of energy. At least they should be.

It had been more than a thousand years since I had married my precious wife, but her memory never left my mind. She has lingered in the doorways of every home I ever past; her face disrupts the rushing waters; and her voice echoed in the wind. There is nothing on this Adamah that will let me forget her. But I know that isn’t how the king felt for his new queen.

The young Helene stepped up to the king’s side, her face filled with confidence and pride. She smiled as he took her hand. The Spartans drank their fill of wine and celebrated into the night. When he had his fill, King Menelaus took his new wife into his bedchamber. The party continued on throughout the night, but one fellow refused to celebrate any longer and only shared his misery with his beer.

A prince of Ilion; he was the youngest son who was cast out of his father’s kingdom as an infant. The idea of it was ridiculous, but what was I to say? After spending most of his childhood as a shepherd, he was rediscovered by his parents and taken back to the royal family. He became the proxenoi to Sparta when he was fifteen and, like most tales of time, fell for Princess Helene of Sparta. After Helene and her sister were abducted, their brothers and the proxenoi of Ilion fought fearlessly to save them; only the proxenoi made it out alive. Five years Helene’s senior, the proxenoi was rewarded greatly by the people of Sparta. Though he had asked for Helene’s hand, he was denied, since they wanted a Greek as the next king of Sparta. So, Menelaus, prince of Mycenae, was chosen instead. Now, after six years, he was the king of Sparta.

Who was this proxenoi? He was well known throughout all of Greece as the turning point. As a prince, he was called Prince Alexandros, son of King Priam. But the name he answered to was Paris.

About halfway through the festivities, he got up and left. Long after the festivities ended, the young prince of Ilion hid in the shadows, as if waiting for someone. He waited nearly a half hour before a figure came down the stairs. A cloak covered the figure’s head. I knew who it was immediately. Her olive hand handed the prince a parchment, which he gladly took. Then without a thought, they both left.

Following behind in curiosity, I watched as she opened the wall to what seemed like a hidden passageway. A corridor that was used mainly by servants and the like. She smiled as she watched his face. “Paris, my dear. We cannot have Ilion blamed for my disappearance. I will meet you at the shore in two weeks. You must still be here when I’m gone. They will never suspect you if they have no reason to blame you. We will be married when we arrive in Ilion, and I will no longer be Helene of Sparta.”

They parted ways with a simple kiss and she was off. The prince watched her leave, almost mournfully but never said a word as he walked away.

A search party was sent out the next morning, hoping to find signs of the Spartan queen; none were ever found. The king was in mourning for days, believing his queen had given herself to Poseidon. I almost laughed. He thought she had thrown herself into the sea to alleviate her own misery. And to blame a god that did not exist made it even more outrageous. How could a god’s mastery be blamed for a suicide that never even happened?

It wasn’t until the twelfth day of her disappearance that Menelaus’ brother King Agamemnon of Mycenae and his wife, Clytemnestra, were received in Sparta. While the Mycenaen queen questioned different servants, the brothers spoke openly about what to do about how the Spartan queen had vanished.

“Brother, something had to have changed. She was esatic. Something must have changed. This just doesn’t seem right. I don’t understand why the sea wanted her this soon. Is this Poseidon’s punishment for some wrong I committed without any knowledge? What am I to do now?”

His brother laughed. “I always thought there was something off about her. She just seemed too attached to the proxenoi that helped save her from Theseus. Clytemnestra told me they became close after that.”

“What do I do, Agamemnon?”

He shrugged in response. “Mycenae, Athens, and Ithaca have already declared war on Ilion. We are sending out ships in the next few weeks. All the greatest warriors of Hellas are going.” At that, he smiled. “Join us, my brother. The fight might take your mind off Helene’s death. We can conquer and plunder the only land to be unbeatable.”

“No. I’ve had enough. I want to mourn in peace.”

Clytemnestra entered the room midway through their conversation, silently and without a pause. She seated herself beside her husband and waited until there was silence before she spoke up. She told them she had some good and bad news. She couldn’t look at Menelaus and only looked out the window. It was the city she had grown up in. She had run through those halls and watched the sunset a thousand times. Like her sister Helene, Clytemnestra had been taken from that shore many years before. They both were stolen from their homeland.

“Helene is alive. Where she is, I don’t know. But the doulos say she had an affair with Prince Alexandros for several years. They say she was pregnant with his child so she made a run for it and will join him in Ilion.”

Though it was true, I couldn’t believe Helene’s sister could betray her this easily, after everything. As I backed away from them, Menelaus started to cry while Agamemnon withdrew his sword and started screaming. As I left the room, I saw the young prince sitting outside the door with his hands covering his face.

After he was questioned, they decided to detain him in his room. While the kings debated about what to do with him, the prince escaped. Meeting her at the shore, the pair made a run for it. Upon discovering that he had escaped, Menelaus declared war on Ilion and prepared to leave. Wishing to stop the war in its tracks, I decided to make a quick choice. Entering Mycenae, I entered the temple, where I whispered to the hierei that the voyage to Ilion could not be completed. After all, King Agamemnon has angered the goddess of the hunt by killing her sacred deer. There was only one way to appease her: by sacrificing the person he loved most. So the hierei repeated the message, which only angered Agamemnon. He had to choice between his bloodlust or his loved one. I didn’t believe he would ever have it in him, but as usual, I was wrong. After thousands of years, I believed humanity had grown. I should’ve known better. Tearfully, Agamemnon carried his ten year-old daughter to the temple of Artemis, unbeknownst to his wife. He placed her on the altar, her prettiest tunic wrapped around her and her black hair twisted into the pearls that adorned it. He knelt before the altar and cried a thousand tears. He couldn’t stop crying and his oldest daughter watched him, knowing what was going to happen. She then bravely told him to get it over with.

Looking at her, he touched her head. “My brave Iphigenia. I love you, my child. This is not my choice. I’d kill anyone over you any day.”

As he spoke, I quickly prayed to Gabriel to allow me to stop this. I thought he wouldn’t go through with it to save her. Why did I have to do this? This child didn’t deserve this fate; no child did. But Gabriel never came. Iphigenia’s blood soaked the altar and she was sent to the gods of Hellas. The Hellas left that afternoon and Clytemnestra didn’t learn of her oldest child’s death until that night. And without a thought, she vowed revenge on her husband if it was the last thing she did. She took a lover the moment he left the shores, and she waited his return.

For ten years, the war went on. The heroes of Hellas fell long before the end, including Menelaus during the tenth and final year. Sparta then withdrew and returned home. Yet, Odysseus of Ithaca planned an invasion. Ilion fell, for the third time, but only rise again a century later by the survivors. Helene, then renamed Helen, watched as her second husband was slaughtered, so she took her children and fled with Aeneas and his family. Agamemnon returned home, only to be killed by his wife; his daughter, Electra, led a rebellion along with her brothers and only narrowly survived. King Odysseus was led astray and never made it to Ithaca in time to see his kingdom

divided up. In the end, no one really won the war. It was the end of the age of heroes. It was the end of Hellas to the people who lived it.

Chapter 6

Hail Mother Asherah. I remember seeing those final days. I wish the task had not fallen onto me. It is my greatest regret in life. Angels should never have to kill, and yet I did. I did it for love of You. Please, let Inanna enter Your realm. I have done the unthinkable in Your name, so please, release her from her chains. I beg of you. Please, don’t punish her any more than you already have. I have done your bidding all those years ago. Please release her! Amen. 1550 P.D.

There she was. She looked so much like Inanna that I couldn’t believe it. Yet, it didn’t matter. She was not Inanna. But, it did matter to someone else.

After he defeated Goliath, who happened to be a descendant of my firstborn, David was known as the greatest warrior in all of Israel. Yet, King Saul knew that the people would want David to be king. He was more favored by not only the people, but by Elohim. Saul was Israel’s first king, but he wasn’t exactly favored by anyone. After David’s friend, who was Saul’s oldest son, died in battle, the king went on a rampage. He ordered David to be put to death. Hunting the warrior down for five years, he finally withdrew from his bloodlust and joined his other sons in

battle. It was his last. Both his sons were killed before his very eyes, and Saul, unable to take it anymore, stabbed himself.

David was crowned on the day of his wedding to Michal. Though she wasn’t his only wife, she was the queen of all Israel. Yet, she was his favorite. Nicknamed Elgah, she died giving birth to their only child, Ithream. It wasn’t until after her death that he looked at his other wives: Ahinoam, Abigail, Maacha, Haggith, and Abital. His new favorite became Abigail, who made the new queen. It wasn’t until he moved his capital from Hebron to Jerusalem that his eyes were drawn away.

Resting for the first time in a long time, King David stayed behind as his army fought the Ammonites. Being restless that night, he paced the roof. Staying at the palace while her husband, Uriah, was fighting, Bathsheba wondered the palace gardens in her nightclothes as she dreaded what was to come. She feared that any day, her husband would be killed. Without thinking about it, she hummed her husband’s favorite song. It sounded similar to the lullaby Queen Sitamun sang to Thutmoses hundreds of years before. I thought of my own mother as I listened. Though I felt nothing seeing her there, I looked up to see David watching her.

David, though ten years her senior, watched her every night for nearly a week before asking who she was. Knowing it was wrong to want her, David did nothing and only lusted at a distance. Before long, however, he couldn’t take it anymore. Knowing her husband wouldn’t be back for several weeks, he had the woman taken to the roof to speak to him. Yet, I knew that wasn’t his plan.

Taking her arm, he watched her carefully. “I am told your name is Bathsheba, wife of Uriah. May I speak to you privately?”

“Your majesty, we are speaking privately. What may I do for you?”

I knew it wasn’t going to end well. Without thinking, I whispered in her ear to run, but shook it off and only looked at her king. Then, I tried to tell David to leave her alone, but he also ignored me and took both of hands. He smiled and watched her with lust and loneliness. There was something about her that made him long for her. Though she was beautiful, that wasn’t the only thing that he saw in her.

“I ask only one thing of you. Give yourself to me tonight.”

Taken aback, she backed away. She didn’t know what to say and was unable to leave. “I can’t, sire. I cannot commit adultery. It is against Elohim’s commandments. He will know what we have done. He will never forgive me.”

“Does it matter? If we are only together once, Elohim will understand.”

“No, sire. It is wrong.”

At that, it was the king’s turn to be taken aback. He stepped back and stared at her, unsure of how to respond. Then, he simply picked her up and left. She was screaming and kicking, but he threatened her into silence. I refused to see anymore and went my way.

It was about a week before he came to her again. This time, however, she was less resistant and allowed him into her bedchamber. Though most of the palace knew, it was kept under wraps that David had taken the married Bathsheba as a mistress. No one could speak against the king.

But the inevitable had happened. Fearful her husband would know what she had done, Bathsheba came to David’s side: “My king, we had some troublesome news. My husband has not been to my chambers in nearly three months and I am with child. It is yours, and we must be punished. Our sin is known by man and by Elohim!”

So the king envisioned a plan he believed would work. Recalling Uriah to the palace, he told him to rest and drink with his comrades and later to take to bed with his wife. Though hesitant at first, he willingly accepted the drink. Yet, David learned the next morning that he had pitched camp outside the palace, wanting nothing more than to be kind to his comrades in battle and be like them. He didn’t believe it was right to sleep with a roof over his head while his men slept in the rain and wind.

Unsure of his next move, David did the best he could: he sent Uriah to the front line, deciding that Bathsheba should be his forever. That plan had worked better than the first one. I couldn’t help but feel contempt for what the new chosen one of my parents had done. He murdered a man because he lusted and impregnated the man’s wife. It was at that moment that I vowed to get revenge.

...

I remember the wedding of my wife’s sister. Naamah was beautiful as she prepared to take the hand of Noah. She looked very much like my dear Inanna, though she had a different kind of strength. Her and Inanna were about thirteen years apart. During her wedding, Naamah was about fifteen. Enoch had left this world several years before, leaving Inanna in charge of his school. And

while she was teaching her new school, Inanna’s sister became engaged to Noah; a year later was the wedding.

It was a simple wedding, much like my own. Nothing extravagant or overbearing. It was enough to make Naamah blush in pride. Though I knew little about her, I knew enough from Inanna to guess what she saw this marriage as. My wife’s joy over her sister’s wedding was touching. She meant everything to me, and though I wouldn’t have cared to go, her need to go was enough to take me there as well. I wish I hadn’t. Her marriage to Noah meant the beginning of the flood. Her husband helped murder my children, even if he had done so unknowingly. Yet, I see him as my children’s murderer. My parents may have sent that flood, but he could’ve said no, just to save his nieces and nephews. He didn’t. Though Inanna had been dead for nearly a decade, Naamah had to watch her family drown. Only Bau and Anu made it, and it was only because Naamah snuck them on. She was the one who saved them. She became the saving grace of my descendants.

...

Bathsheba refused to leave her room for a week. David was denied entry into her room during this time. Though angry, he knew he had to leave her be. It would seem too suspicious for Uriah’s wife to be happy and willingly marry the king of Israel within a week of her husband’s death. Yet, he failed to understand that Bathsheba truly mourned for her husband. What she felt for him wasn’t exactly love, but it was close. It was a mix of devotion and respect. She believed she had failed her husband and was the cause of his death.

Leaving her to her misery, I prayed to Mother Asherah, hoping she would send some kind of punishment to David. Bathsheba didn’t deserve what happened to her. I failed to stop it, and I felt it was a bit of my fault.

During her sixth month of pregnancy, David married her and accepted her as his second queen. I waited. When she was ready to give birth to their child, I came to the last judge of Israel, Samuel. Though David was no longer influenced by Samuel’s voice of reason, I knew he would be the best way to get revenge. After all, Elohim did speak to him for years through Gabriel. He would be my messenger.

The day after their son was born, Samuel entered the palace at Jerusalem. He came to the chamber where the new family was staying at spoke directly to David. He asked him

a parable about a poor man and a rich man. The poor man had a little lamb that he loved-it was the only thing he loved outside his family; the rich man, expecting visitors, decided he would steal the poor man’s lamb to prepare for a feast. Samuel then asked how his king would handle such an insult and was answered with an outburst of hatred toward the rich man.

After he was told that he was the rich man in the parable, David turned away from his wife and Samuel. He asked what it was he had to do to make up for the sin he committed with Bathsheba. And Samuel responded with my punishment: “You must sacrifice your newborn to Elohim. You, David, are the one who must slay him.”

The cry from Bathsheba could be heard throughout the palace. Though I felt bad for poor Bathsheba, I wanted revenge for Uriah’s sake. David needed to be punished. He, like most prophets throughout history, were nothing more than idiotic, piggish, miscreants. I didn’t care anymore. Inanna and I were both being punished, and no matter what I did, I wasn’t going to end it. David had to pull the infant out of his wife’s hands and followed Samuel. Her screams could be heard as they walked away. Tears fell onto the innocent baby’s face, but David continued on. Everyone watched as David carried his son to his death. The mourning of Bathsheba carried throughout the palace. It echoed across the halls and into the altar room. Placing the child on the altar, David asked for a knife. Samuel stood behind him, making sure he committed the deed. I couldn’t help but smirk as I watched David’s vision blur. Bathsheba’s cries could be heard getting closer. As she burst into the room and screamed, the knife met the infant. The blood poured down the altar as the baby’s screams faded into oblivion, never to be heard again.

Chapter 7

Dear Mother Asherah. You have watched me. You have guided me. You alone are the truth and the light. My sins against You have been grievous indeed. Your will must be the way of goodness and hope. Tell me how to correct my ways. Show what it is that I can do to correct my wrongs. I failed you, I know. Please don’t do the same to me. I will do everything in my power to right my wrongs. I may never cease the love I feel for Inanna, but I will do what I can to take up my former duties and do what You and Father Elohim wish. Amen.

1293 P.D.

I remember seeing Aeneas escape. With him, his father and son followed as fast as they could. The rest of the boat out of Ilion consisted of Illyrian women and children. Many of them included the widows of the Illyrian royals; Alexandros’ widow Helen, Hector’s widow Andromache, and Priam’s widows Arisbe and Hecuba. Along with others, they took a boat and fled to the open sea. They travelled through harsh winds and raging waters. They stopped at Carthage for almost seven years. While there, Aeneas married Queen Dido and

had one son with her; other Illyrians remarried as well. Yet, it was when Dido was killed in a battle with the natives that Aeneas saw no reason to stay. The few who had married remained in Carthage, but many Illyrians followed him. They travelled to the shores of a northern land, inhabited by a people called the Latins. It was there that Aeneas married Princess Lavinia after the death of her fiancé and a legend was born.

Those centuries ago seemed like no time had passed for me. I wouldn’t have even noticed if it wasn’t for the civilizations that grew and those that fell. Yet, it was several centuries after the fall of Ilion that I came across the new civilization that sprung up from its ashes. Alba Longa was a great city, though its true name has been lost to time. The young king who went by many names was a powerful and just king. He ruled for almost fifteen years in peace with the neighboring Latium cities and prosperity for his own city.

And this kind king had one daughter, Rhea. His sons had died years before, due to illness and war. Afterwards, Rhea became his world. Unlike most kings, he refused to sell his daughter into marriage. He wanted her to stay at his side as long as possible. Yet, this was his worst mistake. His love for her would blind him to the point of failure to protect his coveted throne from those closest to him.

Storming the halls, awaking the servants and the remaining Alba Longa royalty, Dominus Amulius threw open doors and shoved those who got in his way. Withdrawing his sword, he kicked down the door to his brother-in-law’s room. This made the king and queen awake with a start. Holding unto her husband, the queen watched her brother in fear. Amulius grabbed the king without a thought and held the sword to his throat.

“I’ve waited ten years for this. Your husband isn’t fit to rule Alba Longa, and you’ve done nothing but indulge him, sister. I’m taking back the kingdom that should’ve been our family’s. After all, we’re both descendants of Aeneas, are we not? Why shouldn’t our family be as powerful as his?”

The queen slowly made it to the window to find many of the plebeians outside, ready for battle. Some held torches, as if waiting for the sign to burn the city, and others held weapons. They had rebelled, thanks to the arrogant Amulius. She knew they had no choice at that point but to surrender. There was nothing else to do, if they didn’t want their city to be destroyed and their daughter to be murdered. So the queen turned back to her brother and held up her hands. Without a thought, the king and queen of Alba Longa surrendered to her brother.

Place under house arrest in their own rooms, the couple watched as the days went by. They were forbidden to see their daughter, and she was unable to see them. In the meantime, the people were beginning to suffer.

After a month, the queen was found dead. The physician said she had consumed some kind of poison. Yet, he couldn’t figure out if she had poisoned herself or if she was murdered. The king believed she was murdered, but no one ever knew. As I watched them gather her body for the funeral, I knew. Amulius killed her to ensure that she wouldn’t have another heir. There was no one to tell anyone anymore without the risk of no one believing me. Those that would were loyal to her brother. There was no one left to tell her tale, and the king was all alone.

Rhea sat at her mirror. She was not allowed to see her mother’s funeral or even to see the sun. She had spent weeks locked away in her room, but she knew she couldn’t escape the way her mother did. She was her father’s last hope. She knew this well as she prepared herself for her uncle’s arrival.

On her table sat an opened letter. As I knelt to read it, I saw it was a love letter signed Marius. It seemed to have been sent weeks before, but she was apparently fond of the letter. I knew at that moment that this man was her secret lover, one her father never knew about.

She hadn’t hit twenty by this point, so I knew that she was in the adolescent rebellious stage in her childhood. I had experienced with many of my own children. I knew it all too well.

Her door unlocked behind her, so she put the letter in a box and pushed it away from her. Her uncle entered the room and smiled wickedly upon her sight. Knowing there would be dire consequences if she didn’t respond positively, she put on a brave face and nodded. Her uncle took her hand and kissed it. I knew at that moment that he believed she would legitimize his claim to the throne. He was going to use her.

“My dearest Rhea. I have always loved you from a far.” Amulius stated, lying through his teeth; he never even noticed her until he wanted the throne, and even then, he barely noticed her existence. “Would you do me the honor of marrying me?”

Looking up at the heavens, I noticed she began to pray. After a minute, she spoke, her eyes never moving. “The gods do not wish it. My answer is no.” When he laughed, she

began to lose her courage. He told her that she shouldn’t make the decision so hastily, only based on what she heard from the gods, but on what it would mean for her kingdom and her father. Still, she glared at him: “Never.”

That day, she was banished from the city. Amulius sent her to the Vestal Virgins, believing that once she made her vows, she would be unable to produce an heir that would threaten his rule. From there, he began a brutal rule. Uprising were quite common and once he declared war on the neighboring Etruscans, everyone believed the end times had come. I couldn’t help but agree with them. It seemed like the end of Alba Longa, forever.

A year later, Rhea went missing. Though her uncle never noticed, Marius did as well. By abandoning her sacred duty, she was to be buried alive if ever found. The other priestesses knew she had gotten pregnant and was forced to flee with her lover. They made it all the way to the Tiber River, where they were forced to stop when she gave birth. And it was there that Rhea gave birth to twin boys: Romulus and Remus. Together, Rhea and Marius blessed the gods for the healthy birth and waited at the shore for her slow recovery. So they waited. They waited for the sign. And soon, that sign came to them as I told them they had to run. The men were coming.

Inanna ran to the fields full of excitement. She couldn’t contain her excitement as she ran into my arms laughing. I was in a state of shock by that display. She could barely get it out and only wanted to laugh. What was it, I kept wondering. What made her this way for seemingly no reason? Her sudden brightness and laughter only made me love her more as she seemed to dance across my vision.

Once she had calmed down a little, she told me her news: she was pregnant. At first I simply laughed. How could we have children? I wasn’t even human. Yet, she was confident that it was true. Her response was only one of joy; it wasn’t long before I shared in her joy. And for nine months, we shared in that joy.

For a brutal fifteen hours, I waited. Her relatives seemed to worry more than usual so I was frantic. It was true that they had no idea that I was a Principality, but I remember hearing them say that Inanna wasn’t doing very well. Her mother was even worried that she wouldn’t make it; she believed precious Inanna was dying. I dearly hoped that wasn’t the case. Yet, when she gave birth, she was weak. Her mother let me hold twins, who I named Bau and Kingu, a girl and a boy.

After several hours of rest, Inanna called for me. She was weak, as she would be for the remainder of her life. Though we had other children, each pregnancy was even more difficult than the last one. After her sixth pregnancy, I ensured that she would never get pregnant again. I made sure of it for her sake. My beloved wouldn’t die because of me; I did what I could to ensure that.

...

They were coming. The followers of Amulius were hunting them down. Through Rhea, Amulius’ claim to the throne had been destroyed. Her sons were now the heirs to Alba Longa.

Without a thought, they placed the babies in a cradle and placed them in the river, just as Thutmoses’ birth mother did. As they floated down the river, Rhea and Marius hid in the brushes. They awaited the men, but during the night, I whispered in the men’s ears that the former Vestal had fled south of Alba Longa and was trying to catch a boat to the sea; somehow they believed it. So they carried on to the south without stopping to look any further, just as I hoped.

The twins were rescued by a shepherd and his wife, and Rhea and Marius didn’t raise them until they were adolescents. For most of their childhood, they were oblivious to their heritage. But as they grew older, their birth parents took them home and prepared them to take back was rightfully theirs. And while the couple, who later were able to marry, had at least two other children, the twins were their focus in order to take back the city. And though it took many years, Amulius was dethroned and their grandfather re-instated. Together, they were the founders of the city of Rome, and together, they were the architects of an empire.

Chapter 8

Ave Mother Asherah. Honorifico Te. I honor You. Please forgive my sin and impatience. Because of me, many wars have been started. It is all my fault. Do not forget me, but forgive what I have done. I have failed in my duties to You and Father Elohim, but no matter what I do, I will never forget You. Humans fail to recognize You as a legitimate ruler over all the Adamah but I still honor and love You. I know You weren’t the one who took away dearest Inanna. -Amen. 1488 P.D.

A saddened widow stood in the doorway of her home. Her husband had been dead for almost three year. Her misery had only been increased as the Babylons marched through the streets of Bethulia, Israel. They were everywhere. To her, it was the apocalypse foreseen by the prophets. It was the end of times. There was no going back to the Israel that had been formed from the ashes of the Kemetic slaves.

Staring into the masses, she wondered what she could do. These men had taken her beloved husband from her through battle. Now, she was alone in the world. Her two daughters were too

young to be of much comfort and her side of the family had been taken to my Parents in the sky. There was only her handmaiden, Tirzah, who she barely knew.

This woman was Aziza, wife of Manasseh. He was the son of a Pharisee, but had chosen the path of a soldier, despite his parents’ protests. And like his chosen career, he went against his parents’ wishes to marry Aziza. Though they never disowned her from the family after Manasseh’s death, she was never greeted with open arms either.

Like most women during the invasion, Aziza was taught how to fight. Like Sparta, citizens of Bethulia were trained. The men were trained for battle, while they women were taught how to defend the homes. Hidden beneath her tunic was a dagger, no bigger than a kitchen knife. Yet, she had been trained well to use it.

And as the weeks turned into months, a Babylonian soldier came to the door, and knowing her house would be ransacked if she did not obey, Aziza let him through the door. She let him through her home to the kitchen, where he would eat his share. She waited until he had eaten his share before she took out her dagger and placed it under his throat.

For a brief moment, the soldier couldn’t breathe; once he recovered he spoke in a sinister voice: “You foolish woman. Now you have placed yourself in ruin.

Her face full of bravery, she answered: “Jundiun qadhir. You are under my command now. If you dare defy me, I will cut your throat.” At that, she brought the dagger against his skin and smirked. “Your people have harmed us long enough.” At that, she had her handmaiden help her as she made the Babylonian her prisoner. I was nothing but shocked. There weren’t many women after the flood who were this willing to act that way. Yet, I knew she was doing what she felt was right. Her strength reminded me greatly of Inanna’s.

Beloved Inanna. How I missed the sight of her; the sound of voice; the warmth of her hands. How I longed for her once more. I would’ve given up my divinity for all time just to lay at her side in death. Yet it was never meant to be. She was to be dragged to the bowels of the land of the unnamed and I was to spend eternity looking upon humanity, invisible to mortal beings, and never really a part of them.

My memory takes me back to the sight of Inanna. After the work day, I would often join her side when she attended her grandfather’s meetings. She often spoke freely about

my brethren without consequence. Most of the other female audience members did as well, though to some varying degree. Her interest in the angelic host was fascinating. She asked her grandfather many questions about who these beings were and what they did. Though I had told her in varying degree about my role, her interest range concerned other matters that were beyond my ability to explain. Yet, I couldn’t help but admire her for it.

There were days where she often studied under her grandfather’s careful eye. He passed most of his knowledge onto her, ignoring her femininity. This was his grandchild, and he wanted to ensure that she knew everything before he passed from the world. This was his apprentice, and while men in neighboring villages questioned why he taught her so much, he simply told them to get out of his sight. Everyone mattered in the village, male or female.

Once her grandfather had been taken to Father Elohim and Mother Asherah, Inanna then took his place. She even wrote what he researched into several books. As the Hebrews would later call them, they became the Books of Enoch. Her writing was so moving that I memorized them long after she was gone. One book was the tale of my brethren who entered the mortal realm, as I did. Another talked about Enoch’s journey through the land of the unnamed one.

I drew my inspiration from my beloved; I became better because of her. She was the soul I had lost. She was the love I had shed. I didn’t care about anything else but her at that point. So much so that when I taught her about the stars, I was blind when she shared that knowledge both through her writing and to the village. She had become an important symbol to them; but she was forgotten after the flood. Though her sister Naama would carry the books with her on the ark, Inanna was long forgotten after the death of Naama’s sons. Nothing would every bring back the memory of my beloved to the mortals of this Adamah. Nothing ever could.

...

Aziza entered the war hall without a thought. The men were shocked to see her walk to the center table and throw the sword of the imprisoned Babylonian on it. She looked stern as she spoke: “Men of Israel. I swear to you on this. Locked away within the confines of my home, a Babylonian soldier lies in wait. He infiltrated my home and as punishment, he now rots away.”

“What is the meaning of this?” A Pharisee asked. “You should be in no position to hold the enemy. We do not take prisoners, especially commoners.”

Holding up his hand, one Israelite soldier stopped the questioning. “Young lady, we ask what your purpose is in holding the enemy within your home? What do you expect to do

with him?” He asked this sincerely and I wondered if he even cared about the laws at that point.

Since I knew she was uncertain about what to do, I whispered in her ear. Once I finished speaking, she looked over at the soldiers and spoke with confidence. “My brothers, once I learn from the prisoner where his general is being held, I will go to him in the night. Pretending to be a neviʾa, I will tell his future and lie.”

“How can a woman lie?” The Pharisee asked. “Elohim wouldn’t allow it.”

She glared at him. “Then I will pray for forgiveness.”

As she turned away, the soldier asked: “What is your name?”

Turning back to look at them, she smiled. Knowing she would have to lie to keep her identity a secret, she spoke. “I am the widow Judith. That is all I can say.”

Hours later, Aziza and Tirzah set out the Babylonian camp on the outskirts of the city. In the locked room, the body of the soldier who had given up the information, believing he would be spared, laid on the floors, eyes wide open.

Entering the camp, Aziza said she was a messenger from the people of Bethulia, intent on giving General Holofernes, and only him, a message. Though weary, the Babylonians allowed her in, believing that a woman would be unable to cause any harm. I knew mortals were ridiculous, but I didn’t think they would be this ridiculous, or foolish. In that situation, I would’ve believed an innocent child long before I would’ve ever believe a woman would cause any damage. Yet, she passed easily.

Holofernes liked her from the instant she entered his tent. Her face was among the most beautiful she had ever seen, though to me she was nothing compared to Inanna. And her voice was strong, yet very feminine. Without a thought, he allowed her to stay at the camp, hoping to one day take her as his wife. She promised to him that she would one day serve King Nebuchadnezzar when the Israelites had been defeated. She also spoke in a voice filled with poetic music that Holofernes would stand in the blood of the children of Israel. Aziza and Tirzah were then welcomed into the tent of the eunuch Bagoas. There, they remained for three days, secretly worshiping my father in the dead of night.

On the fourth day, the general ordered a grand banquet of good food and wine for his servants and new guests. The celebrated into the night and when midnight struck, many servants had dispersed. Soon, it was only Holofernes, Aziza, and Tirzah. Too drunk to even stand, he had Aziza help him to his bed. Though he was barely aware of his surroundings, he hoped she

would enter the bed with him and please him. Yet, she did nothing of the sort. Secretly stashing his sword behind her back, she spoke to Tirzah. “My friend, stand outside the door to ensure no one passes this way. Warn me when someone does. For the deed will be done tonight, and I will make quick of it.”

Obeying her mistress, the handmaiden waited outside the door. At that, I knew she was going to go through with my plan. Aziza comforted Holofernes as he drifted into sleep, telling him she would be his servant and wife when the day came. He passed from the realm of life to the one of dreams before long. So, without a thought, Aziza gagged him and took out the long sword. In two swift movements, Holofernes was no longer among the living.

Exiting the tent, she and Tirzah left the camp quietly. The guards who knew her only spoke the name she had given, not knowing who she really was. They let her pass, believing she wanted to bath in the nearby river. None of them realized she held a trophy from their fallen general in her knapsack. No one suspected a thing.

They entered Bethulia around dawn. As they entered the war chamber, Aziza grew confident as she lifted her knapsack and emptied its contents on the table. The men around her were shocked and relieved as she spoke: “Here is the head of Holofernes, the ranking general of the Babylonian forces, and here is the canopy under which he lay in his drunkenness!” I knew she had done well. And because of her bravery and loyalty to my father, she was able to plan a surprise attack, allowing a quick victory over the unsuspecting Babylonians. And for centuries, her name was written across Israel, as the architect of the divine plan.

Chapter 9

Hail Mother Asherah! From the ashes of the fallen, I have come to seek Your grace and glory! My mother, please intercede on my behalf to Father. Your lord and husband has been Your companion and equal these millennium Ask Him for His forgiveness. I still love and adore Inanna, but my love for You is just as strong and has no equal. Whatever I do, I will praise Your name until the end of Adamah. I would give my life for you to love me again, my fair queen of Heaven. Amen. 1734 P.D.

Before his eyes, his great empire now stretched from his homeland in Macedonia to India. Just as Aristotle said, the sea on the other side of Asia was just within reach. His former teacher knew well and did teach him just as well. Yet, his mind was filled with vast knowledge that Aristotle could only dream of. At this man’s side was his older sister, Cleopatra, and his favorite wife, Roxana. Together, his sister and him had defeated armies as great as the Persian army to the simple Samarian army. And, once he married Roxana, the three of them trenched through minor Asia, with little resistance.

King Alexandros of Macedonia stood at the shore that belonged to the Hong Bang. The three of them watched as the water withdrew from the sand. I watched as Cleopatra scooped it up and let in sift between her fingers to be carried by the wind. They all admired the new land, unaware that it was never to be theirs. They had left the army in India to keep control, hoping to catch a glimpse of the long-foretold sea. It was everything they dreamed of. Yet, this sea was nothing new to me. I couldn’t understand why they were as thrilled as they were. It was nothing but sand and water. It was the same body of water they experienced in Greece, though on different ends of the world.

It was never to be. Cleopatra had taken ill, so he decided to take his army back So they traveled for months. About halfway back, she began to recover. Returning to Macedonia, she decided to remain there while she recovered from the long illness. I watched as she visited their illegitimate half-brother, who had been imprisoned by Cleopatra and Alexandros’ mother years before to end his claim to the throne. Like her mother, she agreed that Alexandros was indeed the rightful heir, despite not being the oldest son.

The man was ill; he was unable to speak properly and reportedly foamed out the mouth when ill He couldn’t function at times At that, Cleopatra lifted his head. “Hello, brother. How are you feeling today?” Instead of responding, he simply looked out the window. I understood his plight; just as I was imprisoned and cast out for unfair reasons, he had a similar fate. He would never become king, and it was a well-established fact within Macedonia. Yet, part of the reason he was locked away instead of left alone as Cleopatra hoped, the queen regent of Macedonia was fearful of what he would do to her only daughter. After all, his kidnapping attempt against Cleopatra during her wedding was enough to send anyone over the edge. He had no idea that she was widowed, but that mattered very little at that point.

“Arrhidaeus,” She said, softly. “Please answer me.”

In his years of torment and imprisonment, the prince never spoke. And for years after, he refused to ever do so.

Meanwhile, Alexandros and Roxana were visiting his general Ptolemy’s library at Alexandria. They had only recently found out she was pregnant, so they were awaiting the birth so they could reach his dream once more. Yet, it was never to be. In less than four months, Alexandros was infected. He fought for months, only to succumb to the deadly disease. He died; though his son with his first wife was alive at the time, he died less than six weeks later. The child

born to Roxana would live until shortly before reaching adulthood. He had only one child, who disappeared from history. Yet, I followed her for years: after all, she fled to Nazareth and married into the house of David.

Years before, I watched as the scene of his father’s death unfolded. King Phillippos was dinning with his new wife. She was pregnant for the second time and he was excited to have a new son; a legitimate heir to the throne. Three years before, he had divorced Olympia and disowned Alexandros. He remarried and had Europa. It was then that the tide would turn. Olympia, who was still influential in Macedonia, had ordered the king’s assassination. For a moment, Phillippos was laughing away and touching his wife’s face. Then he drank from his goblet and placed it down on the table. For a moment, he carried on, unaware of the situation around him. Then, he started coughing and leaned forward. It was at that moment that I knew he was basically dead. I watched in horror as he choked on his own saliva before crashing to the ground.

Guards filled the room, removing the poor woman. I could hear the cries of her infant daughter and I felt the blood in my veins boil. Following her screams, I made it to the room as they cut her throat. I prayed her soul would enter the realm of my mother before I whispered to the guards that they would be punished for all eternity

The widow was taken to Olympia Cruelly, the former queen handed the dead infant to her mother. Once she began to cry, Olympia grabbed her face and spit in it. She then took a knife and did unspeakable things to the unborn child. The widow then was left on the floor to bleed out. Cleopatra and Alexandros returned to Macedonia from Epirus to find the mess their mother had left. Against their mother’s wishes, they gave the royal family a proper funeral.

At Inanna’s request, I took on my true form. Leading her and Enoch to the world they wished to see, I showed her the gates of Heaven. Neither of them could believe it as the gates looked as beautiful as the sunset. Inanna wanted to stay, but I told her that they could never know about her. Instead, I told them about the levels of Heaven. Most other scholars would later dismiss my claim, but it was true. I resided in the lower levels, due to my position. Yet, each level wasn’t the way you would see levels. It was all on the same area of sphere, which was stretched out to eternity. It was something else entirely. The

divisions between each one was very different from what one would imagine. It depended entirely on what had been done on Adamah. Enoch recalled this many years later, and Inanna wrote it down.

I then took them to what was later called purgatory. The souls of those who were not evil enough to enter the realm of the unnamed, but were unable to enter the realm of my mother until later on. It was here that many of my descendants were locked away for all eternity. I was never allowed to see them, just as I could never see Inanna. How I longed for her. Yet, I could never see her.

Dear Mother:

I place my soul in Your hands. I know I have done wrong. My love for You will go on, even though my punishment will never end.

End

About the Author

SAM ERNSTE was born in 2002 in Pennsylvania. A writer of fiction since childhood, Sam started attending Bridgewater College as a Professional Writing and Business Administration double-major in 2021. Sam is currently working on a fantasy novel and a mystery novel. Today, Sam lives in Virginia.