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.”