The thief and Pharaoh
Part 1
My life story is one of great mystery and misfortune. My tales seem of one you would read out of a story book, but these words and inscriptions are more then fairies and goblins, but of murder and betrayal. Egypt, the ground is fresh with grains, wild fruit and vegetables, but that is not the only inhabitant that resides on the valley's grass at night. There are thieves roaming the star lit hours, their intentions are to steal jewellery and ancient scribes that symbolize our grand heritage.
Our great leaders rest upon an ancient site, which no one knows of other then the pharaoh's guards and officials. To this day, Atemu is renowned for his great leadership over the vast land of Egypt, but the tales of the pharaohs, gods and goddess' have slowly died, leaving the children with no stories or wondrous images to fill their imaginations.
I am going to tell you my story, from the beginning, where it all started. The tale of a young orphan girl named Akila. I was born in Memphis, the lower part of Egypt; it may not sound as vast or grand as some may have anticipated, but it had its wondrous features that separated it from the others. The name Memphis or "the beautiful monument" was given to that region for it housed something significant during ancient Egypt, the pyramid of Aknamkonan.
Later on during the eighteenth dynasty, the entire region was given the label of Memphis. This brand was not the first, but was combined with another "the white wall(s)." Theory has it that a Greek king Menes founded it during the first dynasty. Many have given this man credit for conquering the Nile Delta and unifying the land of Egypt, making it one large unit. Many people referred to this man as Horus-name.
The stories of ancient Egypt filled my fascination, the same story was never enough for me, but I would demand new, refurbished tales of the pharaohs that roamed the great lands of Egypt. My mother and father never fought with me towards the tales of our ancestors, but wondered about my odd behaviour. My love for Egypt and its many tales were the blessings of my name, Akila, the intelligent one.
A day that celebrated my birth, the first time I laid my small infant eyes upon the world and its vast wonders. I was now turning four, the age of which I was able to attend scribal school. My parents hoped that my abilities would rank me higher then the rest of the children, that I would one day be able to enter the royal service, or even become a wealthy scribe. I attended school, my dedication at its peak, my focus was like no other, and my knowledge for the community and its industry and trades grew everyday.
My teachers were proud of my progress during the short time I attended the school. The teachers gave me harder work, to focus my skills and attributes that contained and displayed the potential I was harvesting while completing the advanced scribes. It was hard, but worth it, I graduated the scribal school at the age of seven, my knowledge vast and wide spread of the community and possible trades I would enter as an apprentice. My goal was to become a wealthy scribe, to read and chart the volumes of scrolls kept in the pharaoh's palace.
When I arrived in the city, my breath hitched with anticipation, my muscles ached from the excitement I carried on my shoulders during the ride home. I walked through the city with a prance to my step; a rhythm began to form in my stride. I soon started to dance and sing a lullaby my mother sang to me. The songs sweet chorus raced off my tongue, the words dancing across the street with grace and majesty, the townspeople stopped and watched my unusual behaviour.
A single thread in a tapestry-
Though its color brightly shine-
Can never see its purpose
In the pattern of the grand design.
And the stone that sits on the very top
Of the mountain's mighty face-
Does it think it's more important
Than the stones that form the base?
So how can you see what your life is worth
Or where your value lies?
You can never see through the eyes of man
You must look at your life,
Look at your life through heaven's eyes.
Lai-la-lai...
A lake of gold in the desert sand
Is less than a cool fresh spring-
And to one lost sheep, a shepherd boy
Is greater than the richest king.
If a man lose ev'rything he owns,
Has he truly lost his worth?
Or is it the beginning
Of a new and brighter birth?
So how do you measure the worth of a man-
In wealth or strength or size?
In how much he gained or how much he gave?
The answer will come,
The answer will come to him who tries
To look at his life through heaven's eyes.
And that's why we share all we have with you,
Though there's little to be found.
When all you've got is nothing,
There's a lot to go around.
No life can escape being blown about
By the winds of change and chance,
And though you never know all the steps,
You must learn to join the dance-
You must learn to join the dance.
Lai-la-lai...
So how do you judge what a man is worth?
By what he builds or buys?
You can never see with your eyes on earth-
Look through heaven's eyes.
Look at your life,
Look at your life,
Look at your life through heaven's eyes!
(Through heaven's eyes
Prince of Egypt Soundtrack)
My jaw dropped, my eyes shining with glee, I rushed through the door, dropping my bags at the entrance of the small house, racing through the complex, searching for my parents. "Mom, dad, are you here?" I yelled through the empty hall way. My excitement slowly draining from features, leaving a saddened frown on my face. "They have to be here, where else could they be?" I pondered to myself, pacing the hallways once more, convincing myself that my mind is playing tricks on me, an illusion from exhaustion, I'm dehydrated, something to stop the worry that was taking over my body.
'What has happened? Did something happen to mom and dad?' I wondered to myself, not concentrating on my current surroundings. "Hello…Hey are you listening to me?" A masculine voice rang in my ear. "Ah, What?" I answered the strange mans howls with a rude growl of my own. "Why are you here? This home is abandoned." The man spoke with booming volume, his voice low and demanding. 'What do you mean abandoned? I live here with my parents" I announced, my voice carrying an angered tune, my cheeks fuming a scarlet red. "No one has lived here for two years" The man answered defensively, advancing towards the small child.
"That's impossible; I only left three years ago, what happened during my absence?" I asked myself aloud, the man listening to my thoughts intently. "I'm not sure" The man spoke quietly, his thumb and forefinger resting on his chin, signalling he has begun his train of thought. "I'm sorry, but I never got you're name?" I asked quietly, my finger tapping on his broad shoulder. "Huh, O, my name is Ammon." He smiled sweetly, his face brightening the room with his encouraging characteristics. "That's quite the name" I smiled innocently, a giggle escaping my lips as I spoke those soft words. "I think it's fitting, how about yours?" Ammon asked turning his attention to my face. "My name is Akila" I gave a joyful response; Ammon's influence having a great impact on me.
"That's a beautiful name" Ammon stated generously, a smile spread across his red cheeks. "Thank you" A big goofy grin appearing on my face, making Ammon laugh tirelessly at my humorous expression. My smile dropped momentarily, I watched him hold his stomach in pain from laughing so hard. I joined Ammon in his fit of laughter, my stomach starting to ache from my contracting muscles over exerting themselves.
Ammon wiped his teary eyes, peering out of the open door; he noticed the darkened sky stretch across the horizon. "It's time for me to take my leave." Ammon spoke, kneeling down to my height. My smile disappeared from my face; a new expression took hold of my features, one of tiredness. I yawned loudly, I stretched my body, various pops and cracks were heard from my lingering joints. "If you want, you can come with me for the night?" Ammon spoke suddenly, his voice filled with a father's love. 'Nah, I'm okay, I will sleep here tonight, after all this is my house." I mentioned to Ammon, my voice repairing its usual serious tone. "Well, if you insist" Ammon patted my head softly, his signature smile never leaving his cheeks. Ammon walked through the front door; he looked back, waving a final adieu. I mirrored his movements with my own, my hand waving rapidly to both sides.
I ran to my deserted room, laying my eyes upon the space I have called mine ever since I can remember. The small room had the same white walls; the furniture was not moved from its original seat and my picture of the three of us on my dresser. I picked up the picture frame; I looked down at the wooden frame of the picture, able to see dad's handy skills at work. My fingers grazed against the glass that protected the precious family photo. A single tear ran down my cheek, the tear landed on the glass, rushing down the side, staining the wood a darker brown. I carefully placed the wooden frame back on the small dresser and crawled into my comfortable bed. I closed my eyes tightly, letting my dreams take me from reality, bringing me to the perfect place, where nothing went wrong.
Since the incident a couple of months ago, I have been labelled an orphan, I still persist that my parents are going to return home shortly. The officials won't listen to my pleads, they have kept tabs on my daily routine, worried that I might try and go against them, influence the other children to follow my savage actions. Ammon hasn't been around the city lately, I have missed his presence, and his smile that encourages my dreams to flow swiftly to the beating drums of my pounding heart.
A fire coursed through the city with such speed and ferocity, the infuriated heat destroying the homes of many, leaving charred wood laying about the city. The bodies of women, children and men covered the streets; their burned carcasses lay stiff and frozen, no ounce of life lingering in their muscles. I walked through the city, my eyes wide with shock. My hands covered my mouth from the smell of burned flesh, the sight was unbearable to stand, the piles of bodies stacked one by one.
'How could this happen? A fire couldn't have started by itself, there is no possible way.' I thought to myself, my hopes torn from my mind, my body heavy, my limbs unwilling to move forward. The population has decreased greatly due to the fire; the pharaoh's officials will be down in the village to gather more people to continue working on the construction of the palace. Since there are a few adults living in our village, the children will be placed in the service as well. I am one of the chosen; I leave tonight for the palace. The path a head of me is dark and murky, but I can not be afraid of what awaits me at the end of this journey.
Eight years have passed since that day, I am now the age of fifteen, considered to be a responsible and mature adult. I have lived in the palace for eight years, but I do not live in the palace quarters, but rather a bunker that is invisible to the human eye. My room is connected to the palace by a door that leads beneath the ground, where the temperature constantly changes. I share my room with one other girl her name is Anippe, she is a year younger than me. She is also an orphan but from a far off land, Thebes.
When I arrived here, Anippe was a frightened child. She never ate or drank water with out the fear of being touched by another; she constantly sat in the corner of the room, her body tightly knit together. To tell the truth, Anippe was a beautiful young girl, her hair was a beautiful Nut Meg shade, and her eyes were an Earthly green. Her slender form was misjudged by the long dress she wore; it had no custom fitting, unable to reveal her beautiful feminine form to the world.
Since our work hours are shorter then the adults, we spend a lot of the time in our bunker, which has benefited greatly. Annipe has opened up, blossomed in a sense, her personality shining through the cracks. She is very energetic when only the two of us, and she seems to have endless stories of her home. I love the tales she weaves, the wondrous valleys she speaks about, and the Nile that flows along the city's edge. Annipe talks about the Nile a fair amount of the time, her glance changing to an innocent smile, her eyes fill with joy.