The man walked slowly toward the observatory, a single room with a mirrors as polished as his people could make them, reflected onto water. He was a Magi of Parthia, and he was weary. He felt all of his sixty years in his bones.

Tradition was passed on that one day, a righteous king would be born. Some Magi believed the old stories of Daniel the seer, that that king would be a Jew. But he knew their line of kings was ended. Rome, with its lust for land and treasure, now ruled in Jerusalem. Not that his kings were better, taking titles reserved for the gods above. He thought he might die without seeing the promises fulfilled, like the generations before him. It was a thought that made him sad.

Wait? What was this? There was a new star in the sky, reflected in the dark pool. It was bright, too. How had he missed it? Up in the Hunter, it blazed with light, a pure white beam. Maybe he was imagining things. Quickly he went to the star charts, checking to make sure that in his weariness, he had mistaken one star for another. No. It was not on the charts. He watched it for a time, to see if he could track its movement. It hung motionless. Truly, there was something new in the sky.

Quickly, he walked toward the hut where his younger colleague was resting. The younger man was slumbering, and the older shook his shoulder. The young man's eyes lit up when he explained. "A comet?" he asked. "Or is it a falling star?"

"There was no tail," the older said. "And it did not move fast, as a falling star would. Call the rest of our order. They must know." Some six were out in the desert above Ctesiphon, watching the stars, while the rest were in the capital.

Soon the other four were assembled, looking at the new star. One of the others, more knowledgeable, spoke up. "Brothers, this star is in the Hunter. It is an auspicious sign. I believe it is the omen of a new ruler."

The old Magi had considered it also. So the astrology of his people said. The youngest, who still held to prophecy, suddenly looked up. "Look, it moves to the west, toward...toward Arabia."

"No, brother," another corrected. "Not that far south. It rather moves toward Babylon."

"There are no dynasties in Babylon, not since the Greek Alexander ended the line of Achmaenid." Of which Parthia was descended, as all knew very well. The youngest spoke once more.

"Perhaps it is...Israel? They have a king."

"A king beholden to the Emperor in Rome." The old Magi shook his head. "But perhaps old Herod has had a son."

"It moved again!" one cried. Indeed it was true. It stood on the edge of the Hunter now. It was heading west, and the old Magi no longer doubted his eyes.

"We must go to the capital," he said. "There are the scrolls of prophecy and legend. We can see what they say about such a king."

181818

The younger Magi twisted to look behind him. They were far into the desert, crossing the northern edges of Arabia, on the way to the lands of Judea. It was him who had found the prophecy of "a star out of Jacob, and a sceptre of Israel," written by what some believed was the first Magi, Balaam of Mesopotamia.

Now they were traveling. Every day, the star moved further west, traveling toward the Great Sea. They had a large caravan, with four magi- him, the older brother who first discovered the star, the leader of the Magi, and an apprentice, along with servants all the retinue of the rich. They had stopped at Babylon and replenished their supplies, and hoped to stop again in the caravan city of Palmyra. Now it was quiet but for the thump of camel's feet on dry sand.

The young Magi thought about the gifts they had brought. Further study had revealed more of this king's nature. He was a king, truly, so he deserved gold. But...he was also a priest. The Magi and the priests of Zoroaster worked together on occasion, and their claim to speak to the spirits of fire was proven by the wonders they sometimes performed. But...this king would be a priest of the Creator himself. So frankincense, that most rare of spices, a spice of consecration and service.

Last, myrrh. For the psalms of the ancient king, David of Judea, spoke of betrayal and death. At some point, this king would die in a horrible way. Myrrh, then, for the burial, a burial that the young Magi hoped would be with honor.

The leader of the Magi broke into the young man's thoughts. "It seemed the prophets of the Jews spoke truly. There is a star, and we bring gifts in keeping with this king's station."

"Have you noticed that the star brightens?" the young Magi said. "You can almost see it, even in daylight." He knew his elder's eyes were not what they used to be, but his own eyes were still strong. He could almost see the star now, if he squinted against the sunlight.

The older man shook his head, but his eyes showed understanding. "His star will rise," he said. "If he is truly the one before which all others will bow, even our own shahs, then we...we will see his star grow."

To that, the young magi had no answer but agreement.

181818

The leader of the Magi was stunned when he reached Jerusalem and was admitted. He thought Jerusalem to be just a village, but it was not. It was a kingly city, with its strong walls and its shining temple, dedicated to the God Above All. Their camels thumped over the flagstones, on the way to Herod's palace, and turned heads as they did. Not just because the four of them were light of face, as many in Persia, contrasting with the dark, sun-kissed skin of the Jews, but also because they showed their wealth openly.

They were soon admitted to the palace, where Herod greeted them with every courtesy. "Ah, the strangers I have heard about, coming from the east. I hear tell of great nations beyond the desert sands."

"Yes, we come from Parthia, the ancient lands of the Persians," the lead Magi said. Something was wrong, he could tell. Though they had been extended every courtesy, Herod himself was not pleased to see them. Of course, the little they heard of Herod told of an insecure, self-centered ruler who did all for his own gain, and who could murder on a whim. The older man saw a manipulator when he saw one, for he also manipulated, for the good of Parthia, or so he said. But he could see himself in this vain, overblown man.

"What brings you to Jersualem?" Herod asked, a glint in his eye.

"We have come to worship the King of the Jews. We saw the star of his birth in the East."

Herod's eyes changed. They grew darker and more dangerous, and the older leader knew he had made a deadly mistake. But the smile remained. He called his wise men in, and they came in, self-important in their tasseled robes. Like the priests of his home, they waited for the king to speak. His tone was oily.

"What do the Scriptures say of a king to be born?"

"In Bethelehem, in Judea, shall one come who will rule over my people Israel." The response came softly. The lead Magi wanted to ask why they had not gone, then, but held his tongue. He was a guest, but he was angry. He turned to go. Herod's words stopped him.

"When you find him," he said softly, "let me know, so I can worship him."

The leader of the Magi nodded briefly. "We will go," he said. "And we will let you know." But he did not have to tell the truth to this madman. Let Herod think what he would.

181818

The apprentice wondered. Bethlehem was a village, almost a hamlet. A king, there? But the star that had led them so far was hovering over a small house at the edge of town, blazing so brightly he wondered why everyone else was not staring at it. THe house was small, but the work was beautiful, and he could recognize a master craftsman. So his father was a carpenter?

He had to revise his estimation. After all, it was said that the Great Cyrus had been raised by shepherds before he started his rise to the throne. Perhaps...perhaps the prophecy was true, after all.

They had to leave their camels and retinue at the edge of town, and approach on foot. He followed the three Magi, each carrying a gift. Even in the cool night air, he caught the sweet of frankincense and the bitter of myrrh. The head Magi knocked softly, and a baby's cry echoed in the night. A voice was heard inside, and then the door opened.

The man who looked out was young, as young as the apprentice, or a little older, and a beard clung to his face. His eyes were wondering and wise, the look of one who not only pondered mysteries, but had seen them, a look no priest of his homeland could fully claim.

The lead Magi spoke softly. "Sir, we come to see the child who was born. There is a star…sir, have you not seen it?"

The man nodded. "I have seen it," he said. "I wondered. Well, come...come. Mary, strangers to see Yeshua."

Yeshua. The apprentice tried to remember his Hebrew. Yah saves. Yah being the Highest, the God Above All. It seemed fitting for the prophecied king.

A toddler then appeared, followed by a shockingly young woman. This was Mary, then, the mother of the child. And this was the baby. He was the first to go to one knee, then to his face, prostrating himself to the muddy ground before rising. Joseph looked about to speak, but Mary put a hand on his arm.

When he rose fully, he caught a glimpse of the baby's eyes. He had seen few, but he knew them well, a mix of curiosity and sadness, love and innocence, but there was something...something even deeper, a holiness that made him gasp for breath and put a hand over his heart, a purity that made the snows of the Zagros look black in comparison, a wisdom that not even the head of his order could match. And this when he was but two years old?

No, he was the king. The King. The Parthian emperors called themselves the King of Kings. But this little toddler was above them all. There was none other. He had bowed in respect, but now...his heart bowed in worship.

A/N: I hope the story does not seem rushed. I wanted to give perspective from young and old alike, and I think it is fitting that the youngest, the apprentice, was first to realize who this king really was.

A few historical notes- Parthia is Persia (modern Iran) where Daniel spent his last years, and where many Jews still lived when Jesus was born. It seems logical the Jewish scriptures were preserved there.

The Magi were a real order of astrolagers, wise men, and magicians. Though little is known of them, the Greeks, Persians, Romans, Indians and even Chinese were aware of them. They did not seem to be priests, even though they worshipped Ahuru Mazda along with most other Zoroastrians. Stars, in a very real way, were their specialty.

And yes, the Emperors of Parthia did hold (as the Achmaenids before them) the title of King of Kings. Also, Cyrus the Great, according to legend, was raised by shepherds.

Jesus as a toddler? Yes. You do not cross the desert in a day, even in today's world. If they came from Persia, as seem likely, the Magi would have had several months, if not a full year, to gather resources and make the trip.

Merry Christmas, everyone! I have more stories planned for this series, but not till the new year. Enjoy time with your families, and if you are believers in Jesus, remember...he is the true King of Kings.