Warning: I turn super nerd in this story. If you have never wondered about details of Abydonian culture this story (and particularly this chapter) is probably not for you. That being said it does have a strong story line and character development. It's not like it's going to read like Anthropologist notes.
Also suspend your disbelief. It's written in English with a smattering of my own reconstruction of Abydonian (some copied from the movie, others modern Arabic, a touch of Nigerian one word of Hebrew and still others are scholars best guess as spoken Egyptian). But it's written by Sha'uri, so you're going to have to pretend the whole thing is Abydonian. As a Stargate fan you're used to using your imagination with languages though, right?
I like to come here at dusk. Just in case I can actually see Omm's spirit returning to her grave. It's supposed to return to her body every night, and leave again each morning to connect with the great life force. I believed this as literal truth when I was a small girl, and Omm had first been entombed. Now, I'm not so foolish. Either there are no such things as spirits, or their coming and going cannot be seen or felt.
I'm not sure if it matters which is the truth.
But I like to talk to my Omm, even if she can't hear me. There are questions which I dare not ask my father. A woman's place is to listen and obey. I fear Abba is thinking of marriage. If I had been anyone else besides the chief's daughter I could choose my own husband.* As it is, Abba will choose for me. He is cold enough to use me a political jackal and hound. He stopped believing in love when Omm died. If Omm had lived she would have ensured I'd married a man of my own choosing. Or at least one who would love me as fiercely as a sandstorm in the dry season or the river itself during flood.
When you visit a grave of someone you love you're supposed to pray for them. You're supposed to pray to their sprit and the god Ra. But I refuse to pray to him. He's the reason she's dead. Ra comes to Abydos whenever it pleases him. And he takes what and who he wants. He destroys what he wants and he kills what he wants. And if you try to stop him, he kills you too.
Ra likes to have little children serve him. Often they are taken at six or seven and returned when they have grown to sixteen or seventeen. The ones who return… they are never the same; they've seen way too much. The last one never even talked again after coming back. Most of them aren't that bad, but it's rare for them to lead functional lives complete with jobs, and spouses, and friends.
So, when Ra demanded my little sister, Omm said no, and so he killed them both. He killed Eshe first, making Omm watch. Then he let her know we were watching as he kills her, and I think that hurt her more than the actual death. As horrible as it was to lose them… sometimes I wonder if Eshe isn't better off this way. But mom certainly wasn't.
"Sha'uri," my brother, Skaara, says.
"A moment," I beg. Skaara was the youngest of our siblings. When Omm died I had witnessed my ninth river flood, Eshe her sixth, and Skaara had barely seen two. Abba hired a woman to care for us of course, but she was careless when his back was turned. I acted as his mother apart from the nourishment the woman provided. I protected him, held him, loved him, and taught him. Taught him even the forbidden reading and writing as Omm had taught me.
I loved my brother. But once in a great while I wanted to be something other than sister.
"You feel Omm's sprit?" he asks quietly. My brother can never go long without talking.
The question annoys me. Mostly because I don't want to lie, and I also don't want to discourage my brother's faith. I nod without commitment and stand up, brushing the sand from my kalasiris. He misses my mother too, I know. But it is a different kind of missing that I feel. He doesn't remember her.
"Abba has called for you," Skaara tells me.
"You ought to have told me!" I exclaim. He smiles in a way that reminds me he tried too. "Where is Abba?"
"There are strangers approaching the mines from the pyramid."
"Company?" I ask.
"Tau'ri," he says, slipping a clumsy Jaffa word into our language. Many of the children have this bad habit. Ra and his Jaffa are coming more frequently than ever before. So what was once a special language to break for festivals, feasts, and when Ra came, is slipping word by word into the language of our people.
"Tau'ri?" I repeat, stunned. People come from the pyramid every now and then. But no one has visited from the Tau'ri for generation after generation. "Are you sure?"
"Abba thinks so," Skaara says with a shrug.
I take off running across the desert, but I soon change to a walk. It's hard to run when your feet are always sinking into the sand, and it's not something that I've done since I was a little girl. In fact, I don't think I've ran since Omm died.
I'm a little disappointed when I reach the mines. Everyone is just working as usual. And I know for a fact that none of them are from the Tau'ri. Skaara resumes his place in the central tent. His job is to supervise the workers, and he's really good at it. It's a tough job, because you have to meet a certain output by the time Ra comes. Except you never know when he might come, and you never know when he might decide to raise the output randomly. So you have to produce as much naquada as you possibly can. The mine operator before my brother, and the one before him - back when I was a little girl, they both did it by being really cruel to the miners. But my brother does it the opposite way. He gives the miners a ridiculous amount of breaks throughout the day. He gives the ones who mine the most an extra portion of food each day. And he knows every one of their names.
I'm so proud of him.
Abba is nowhere to be seen, and I am tempted to return to my post among the woman. And then I hear a worker shout, "Chien pe-ow. Mieu!"
My brother joins in the call and everyone else stops working. Then slowly four men walk down from the top of the hill. I move back a bit, further into the crowd. I'm feeling a bit odd being the only woman greeting the travelers.
Their skins range from light to dark, though most are lighter than even the fairest Egyptian. They are wearing clothes of a very strange hue. Three of their clothes are close to the color that our crops are when we grow them. But no matter what we do to the fabric it turns to the color of sand when we spin it, unless we dye it with the roots of the Matter plant.** But that only gave us the color we used in Abba's robes. The remaining visitor wears pants of the color of crops, but a shirt the color of the night's sky. All of them have their eyes darkened far better than any protective make-up can do. I'm not sure how they can see. Their whole eyes seem to be covered. They are holding something strange in their arms. All but one of them… his hands are empty.
The empty handed man says something to one of the miners in a language I do not understand. Suddenly the minor turns to the crowd proclaiming, "He serves the eye." He kneels down. The crowd behind him follows suit, falling to their knees with their arms stretched before them.
The one who wears the shirt the color of night bends down and touches my brother's hand. Skaara becomes terrified, and begins to run toward my father's litter. He screams Abba's name the whole time. I'm glad Abba has only a short ways to go to meet the visitors. The whole time Skaara is talking. And halfway there he runs out of things to say, so he begins to repeat himself. Abba makes a standard welcome speech, but it's pretty clear that the visitor's don't understand him.
Abba bows down and I and three other people are sent forward with the offer of a bowl of vipie. I go before the one without the hat, the one who is wearing the necklace of the eye of Ra, the one who tries to talk to us. I give him a small bow. He flashes me a wide smile. He drinks from the bowl at its proper end. The other's turn it sideways instead.
"Mmm..." he says, like we say after a delicious meal. Then he says something in words that I do not understand.
I bow again, and he keeps nodding and smiling and saying those words over and over under his breath.
We servers away and he bows before Abba. Then he opens up part of that strange plant-colored clothing and removes something that is long and thin. He makes a lot of noise with it before he holds it up to his nose and smells, again making the 'mmm…' sound. Then he gives it to Abba who smells it before putting some into his mouth.
Abba tells him it is very good. And the newcomer repeats the words. Abba makes a motion for them to follow him, and we form a caravan moving from the mines to the city proper.
As we walk, the one who wears the eye of Ra makes a loud sound with his nose into a small piece of very white cloth. Nebeh grabs the cloth from him as soon as it is returned to his pocket. I laugh at how oblivious our visitor is to the thief. Nebeh is not known as a skillful pick-pocket.
Skaara grabs the fabric from his friend, scolding him. He then hands it back to the visitor, who looks around, quite confused by what exactly has gone on.
The visitor catches my eyes for a moment. But I cannot read what he is thinking, the black before his eye hides all of his thoughts.
We enter the House of Meeting and Abba gives a command to raise the curtain revealing the eye of Ra. We all bow to it, but the visitors make no motion of showing respect. The visitor who wears the eye of Ra and the one who wears a shirt of night talk for a bit. The one who wears a shirt of night touches the eye of Ra which still sits on the other man's neck. Perhaps this is how gods show respect for one another.
"Ra?" the man with the necklace asks. Abba looks up at him with much amazement. But before he can say a word the arghul make a low sound alerting us that a sand storm is coming. People move about with their assigned preparations. When we close the large doors the visitors become very alarmed. They rush to the people who are closing the door and grab them and hit their heads against the door. Then the strange things they are carrying make a very loud sound.
Abba runs toward them begging them to stop. The one with the necklace is not far behind him, and my brother is not far behind him. Skaara points up, and tries to explain the sandstorm to them. He takes the one with the night colored shirt up to show him the sand blowing toward us across the desert. When that man yells down to the other visitors they let the men they are holding go. Then the one with the necklace goes toward my father and repeats the word for sandstorm. He is trying to communicate more than any of the others.
We begin a festival in the house of meeting. The musicians come out and begin to play music. First, a somber one begging for the sandstorm to leave. Then one by one the musicians leaves the somber note and rises up in happy tales of great friendships.*** It's meant to influence visitors into becoming trade partners. But since these visitors don't understand the words, I don't think it's going to influence them.
They place an Isbe**** before the visitors. The one with the necklace takes some meat out of the Isbe and places it in his mouth. Then he makes a strange sound saying "bababa". He turns to talk to the back shirted man next to him. I offer Abba a tray of food. As I rise the man with the necklace comes over to us. He kneels before Abba , and takes out the necklace which he has hidden under his clothing. Then he begins to draw the same symbol on the ground. Abba rushes to stop him and erase the symbol. Then Abba bids me to leave.
I know that something important is about to happen, so I don't go very far away. "Good son!" Abba calls him. They wrap a matter robe around his shoulders. My stomach twists. It could be worse, of course. I'd been preparing for worse. I did, after all, like the man with the necklace. But I only have a few minutes warning to prepare myself for the wedding. I have no mother to tell me the secrets of the married woman. To be sure, our nurse and my friends have let enough hints fall over the years that I think I can manage. But it is different than your mother sitting you down and telling you everything and making it sound special and important.
I go and put on the dress of a bride. I drape the veil over my face. As I enter the tent he barely looks at me. He's talking words that I do not understand, while he tries to put strange white coverings on his feet.
I lift off my veil, finding myself nearly shaking. He laughs; a nervous laugh. I slide the shoulders off my dress and for a minute he seems mesmerized. Then he stands up and pulls the shoulders back up. His fingers causes bumps to move like waves across my skin.
He speaks soft words and guides me toward the flap of the tent.
Rejection. All the things I'd been worried about since I heard I would be a bride, this one hadn't even occurred to me. What will life be like after I am rejected? Will my brother treat me the same? Most likely. Abba? Most certainly not. I would have failed him beyond all measure. And I would have disappointed a god.
What is wrong with me? Divorce is not unheard of, but it is rare enough on the wedding night. Was he not pleased with my sight? He seemed to like it as long as he looked upon me.*****
Abba turns when he sees us leaving the tent. "What have you done, good daughter? Have you offended our guest?" he asks me.
I shake my head, "No, I did not offend."
Abba falls down on his knees, "Please forgive, please forgive."
My husband puts his arm around me and shuts the flap of the tent. He guides me over to the bed.
"Daniel," he says.
Is he trying to name me? Or is that his word for wife? I point to myself, "Dan'yel?"
He points to himself again, and pauses to hide a necklace beneath his plant-colored clothes.
Dan'yel must be his name. "Sha'uri" I say, pointing to myself.
He slurs it a bit together as he says it, "Shauri."
I smile at him.
He smiles back. He tries to say something, but he ends up drawing in the sand. I look away. Look everywhere but there. If he is really a servant of Ra this has got to be a trick. It must be some clever way to force us to admit that we read and write. I'd rather my own husband not turn into my accuser.
Still, a lifetime is long to keep a secret, and I want to pass on knowledge of the written language to my own children.
He stops writing and begins to walk away. He peeks out of the tent. I correct his drawing. I erase the squiggle at the bottom, and add the single moon at the top. It's the symbol for his planet.
He gets very excited and says to me, "Earth." He points to his eye. He's asking if I have seen it before. I nod my head, and point to my eye. He extends his hand, and I put mine into his. They fit together. Omm once said that she knew Abba was the one, because their hands fit together.
I take him to a cave that my mother took me to as a child. We remove the rocks from the entrance together. He begins to read the words to himself. I stop him when I hear one I recognize - sort of. His pronunciation is off. I repeat the word correctly. He looks confused and says another word. I repeat the word, exaggerating the correction. He says it a few times to himself. He points to another spot on the wall and says a word horribly. I correct him again, and a grin breaks out on his face. One of his grins has the power to light my soul on fire. A lifetime with grins like that would be a privilege indeed.
I spend the next couple hours teaching him to speak our language. Then he reads me the history of my own people off of the walls. I thought I'd read the walls before. But I can assure you that they never told a story so well as when they told it from my husband's lips.
The other travelers came up behind them and he goes over to talk to them in his language. I felt lonely. It's like when you sit by a fire on a warm night. The night feels cold by comparison when you walk away from the flame. I wish I'd used the time to learn his language instead of him learning mine.
He goes to look an old rock that I've never been able to read. I think he must be able to read it, and that it must say something very sad indeed, judging by his face. Especially the piece that is crumbled to the floor.
The man with the shirt of night - Dan'yel calls him Oneel - takes the lead, and everyone follows after him. I don't know where they are going, but I feel like I'm not invited. I wrap the veil around my head and shoulders and watch them from the entrance to the cave. Dan'yel glances back at me, and I see - for the first time - a bit of love in his eyes. I return to my father's tent - the tent of my childhood, a little uncertain of exactly how married I am.
Hours later, Ra's death gliders suddenly leave the pyramid atop the pyramid and come over the city. They drop fire upon the city. No one ever survives the fire falling from the sky. But a little girl does. She just watched her mother die, and is about the age I was when I watched my mother die.
I gather her up into my arms, and hold her near to my chest, and I wipe at her dirty face.
My brother approaches and asks what happened. I tell him that Ra has punished us.
"Why?" he asks.
"What happened to Dan'yel?" I ask.
He is too distracted looking at the destruction to answer me. So I repeat it. Skaara doesn't answer. He just hangs his head. My heart breaks within me, and I begin to cry.
I return to the cave. I was only a wife for a few hours, before I became a widow. Those few hours I spent here. I touch the wall. I try to remember the story he told, using the wall as a prompt. But it isn't as good as my husband told it.
My brother comes to tell me the other visitors will be executed for starting a rebellion. He is calling me away, just like he did a day ago to tell me the visitors had come. Was that only a day? I am a different woman than I was then. The old Sha'uri would never do this.
I bid them to come. I will not let Ra kill the visitors who came with Dan'yel. Ra will take no more from me. I have to tell them what Dan'yel told me. Because I am the only one who knows, and life is short.
Dan'yel's story is powerful. I am only a few sentences in when Skaara goes and summons others. So, I find myself giving a battle speech to an army.
Omm, would you be proud?
Dan'yel is standing before the crowd. Dan'yel is not dead… at least anymore. From maiden to wife to widow to wife, all in the course of a few days. I am glad that I have little to do with this part of this mission. I would be too distracted to do much good. I am shocked that my husband has risen from the dead, and I'm terrified that I will lose him again.
Skaara uses a flash from the shiny lighter that Oneel gave him to attract Dan'yel's attention. When his eyes fall upon us in the crowd, Skaara lifts his coat to revel a weapon. Dan'yel readies the weapon of the gods as if he was going to fire upon his friends. But before he does he turns them on the guards. One powerful blast takes many of them to the ground. Skaara begins to fire his weapon which provides a much needed distraction. As the visitors run into the crowd I help to drape our clothing over them to help the blend in. At the edge of the camp Dan'yel and Oneel climb onto a Mastadge and ride off. The fighting continues. I want Dan'yel near me.
Once the fighting is done the rebels, as my brother has begun to call his group (in honor of the rebels from earth Dan'yel learned about on the wall), gather together in a cave. But Dan'yel and Oneel are missing. I try to remain calm passing out vipie and bread to those who come to us for refuge.
"Sha'uri, you worry for your husband," Skaara says.
I nod my head. "I will go and find them," he proclaims.
"No, I don't want you to risk yourself as well," I insist. But he is already out of the door.
It's much later when my brother and his men return with Oneel and Dan'yel. Dan'yel drops to the floor just inside of the cave. I offer him vipie. He's coughing so hard that he can barely drink it. Dan'yel manages to get the vipie down at my urging. Just about then Oneel begins to shout about something.
My Dan'yel begins talking in a voice that is tired and week. He's talking in his language, so I can't understand him. I stand up to get more vipie. The argument continues for some time. I'm hoping when it is all done, Dan'yel will tell me what it is all about. My father would not. I cannot imagine what my life would be like if I could not eavesdrop on my father. I hope I don't have to find out with my husband.
When we are alone, I ask Dan'yel, "What was the argument about?"
He leans back against the cave, "Ra has a bomb, a big bomb."
"What is a bomb?" I ask, because one English has word slipped in with his Abydonian.
He sighs, "It kills. It makes things explode."
"We have to stop him," I tell him.
"I know," he says, "He plans to send it to my world. So maybe this world, at least, is done hurting on our behalf," he says, quiet and guiltily.
"You have not hurt our world," I tell him. "You have freed it."
He looks at me with those giant blue eyes are filled with gratitude as they look at me through the transparent things which sit upon his nose.
Dan'yel leaves to go talk to Oneel after that, and I go to check on the supplies. As I am returning to the main chamber I hear some laughter. I hear Dan'yel say the word "husband" in our language as he dips a bowl into the vipie. I go quickly around the corner trying to pretend that I didn't hear what was said. I start grinding the grain with all of my might. Dan'yel enters the room after me. I stare at him as he enters, but I keep grinding. He sits down right in front of me, so I can't avoid looking at him.
"Married?" he asks gently. It's a question I hoped one day to hear from the mouth of the man I loved. But it's a question I imagined hearing before I was married. When he was asking me if I wanted to marry. Now he is asking if we are married. And he's already rejected me.
"Don't be angry," I plead, "I didn't tell them."
"Tell them what?" he asks, with all the softness that I have spent my life longing for.
I didn't want to have to say it. There is a bit of choke in my voice as I say, "That you did not want me."
I look away, like I did on our wedding night when he insisted on writing. But he grabs onto my chin, forcing me to look him in the eye. And what gorgeous eyes they are. Despite the strange things he wears over them. His hand slides behind my head massaging my scalp as he draws me close to him. I don't have enough time to get as nervous as I did on our wedding night. He tilts his head sideways, and our lips touch. I close my eyes. He tastes like mint leaf. Where did he get mint leaf in the dry season? They must have brought it with them in their packs. I like the taste. He parts my lips a bit and begins to dive deeper into my mouth.
When we break from the kiss, some moments later… I find that someone has closed the curtain and provided us with what privacy he can.
The next morning Dan'yel is talking excitedly to his men at the mouth of the cave. I come up beside him and stand at his elbow.
He turns to me and smiles, "Good news, Sha'uri, I've found the way home," he says in our language.
I look at him in horror and work hard not to cry. I thought Dan'yel wanted me.
He turns to me looking confused, "Sha're… won't you come with me?" he asks.
I respond by throwing my arms around his shoulders, and kissing his mouth. He makes it a light and quick kiss before pulling back.
He says something that sounds like an apology in English.
"Ashamed of me around your friends?" I tease.
He doesn't answer me. "Sha're… I think we're going to have to go and pretend to work in the mines for this plan to work," he tells me.
A few hours later, we are transporting the mineral from the mines to Ra's ship when one of the guards - a minor god - comes and knocks Dan'yel to the ground. Oneel shoots the god to the ground with a staff weapon.
Abba yells at Skaara. He blames him just because he was part of the rebellion. Then Abba pulls those near him to the floor to pray for forgiveness.
"Kassuf," my Dan'yel says in our language, "Take a look at your gods." Then he presses a button on the side of the god's head and the head fades away, quickly revealing a human head.
"Take a good look," he repeats, walking past Abba. I follow him.
"Are you all right?" I ask, touching the part of his head where he was hurt.
He flinches away from my touch but he says, "It doesn't matter. Let's focus on what we have to do."
Soon we are doing just that. With our faces covered, we are carrying what looks like a load of naquada into the pyramid. We are not fooling the guards. The follow us inside. Then they take the hoods off us one by one. The first two do not matter. They are not ones who would be known by the guards. But the third hood is over the head of Oneel.
He says something in his language, and then he begins to shoot the guard with the noisy earth weapon. Dan'yel holds me behind him with one hand and shoots with the small noisy weapon - the only one Oneel would allow him.
The noise of the earth weapons is so loud that I cannot ask Daniel a question. He keeps me far enough behind him that I am never really given a chance to fire the weapon they taught me to use.
Oneel says something Dan'yel, and Dan'yel and I follow him deeper into the pyramid. We enter a room which clearly holds the thing Dan'yel called a Stargate. It is amazing, and in other circumstances I would be in awe. There is also something smaller at the base of it. And I can see Dan'yel becomes angry when he sees it. I hear a sound and turn. One of our gods stands there. I scream Dan'yel's name, and then I feel fire on my chest.
The next thing that I know I am laying on the floor next to a man without a head. Dan'yel and Oneel are sitting beneath the gate. They look at one another and say something to each other at the exact same time in their own language. They walk over to the transporter rings and put the strange thing on it. Then they touch the dead man's hand. Large round things fall out of the ceiling and then return into it. When they have left, the thing within the circle is no more.
"How are you feeling?" Dan'yel asks me in concern, grabbing onto my elbow.
"Fine," I say.
He pulls me in for a big hug, "I thought I lost you!" he whispers in my ear.
Oneel says something in Dan'yel's language, and we follow him to the mouth of the pyramid. Skaara walks toward us, and puts his hand by his forehead for Oneel. Oneel does it back, and the crowd starts to cheer.
I lean closer to Dan'yel, and he leans closer to me. He wants me. He worries about me. I tilt my head to the side this time (to show him that I learnt from him) and our lips meet. I'm startled by Dan'yel's kiss but Abba does a victory cheer.
The next day we prepare to return to earth. Abba says only, "Obey your husband," by way of a goodbye.
Skaara holds me in a hug for a long time, "Thank you," he whispers. He would not thank me in front of Abba, because Abba does not know I raised my little brother.
"Are you sure you want to come with me?" Dan'yel asks the second before we step through the gate.
"Yes, husband," I say, leaping into the gate before him.
*Most people in Egyptian culture married for love. Royalty usually married their own siblings or other close relatives, although it's possible that these marriages were only ceremonial and their love lives were quite separate from them. Nobles were also occasionally instructed to marry certain other nobles to keep the delicate peace in society. But for the most part people married for love.
**The movie does a nice job of coloring for costumes. Egyptians were bad at dying so everyone but the nobles wore yellowish-orange color the undyed flax (they didn't use "dirty" animal fabrics. Nobles and royals wore: white, black or a purplish-red much like Kasuf's garments in the movie. The color of Kasuf's robes were made from Matter root. Of course, Sha'uri and Skaara should have been wearing one of those colors as well. I know Sha'uri does for the wedding, but it would have been an everyday occurrence.
***I know there are no vocals in the movie. But Ancient Egypt and the Middle East as a whole doesn't do purely instrumental music, there is always also singing too. So I can't imagine Abydonian culture losing that part of it.
****Sorry it's Hebrew for lizard. Closest I could get. It's really hard to find African languages online. But Middle Eastern is easy. Hence, why Hebrew and Arabic both sneak into my version of Egyptian.
*****Divorce was no big deal in Ancient Egypt. Sha'uri would have been fine. And the movie did right on the marriage ceremony. Basically all that happened was the wife moved into the husband's house and they were married.
Random Note: Daniel claims Abydonian sounds a bit like three languages. Two of them are actually language families, and one of which includes the Nigerian languages. I was a nanny for a Nigerian family for almost five years. Abydonian is nothing like Nigerian. Not even close. Abydonian's too smooth for that. Also Abydonian in the movie doesn't make any sense. I wasted a whole day of my life figuring that one out.