Chapter 1: Birth
The golden sun rises over an ocean of sandy dunes. It casts shadows on the incomplete, brick structures looming in the distance, structures littered with rickety scaffolding. Even in this early hour, dozens of workers slowly trod towards their daily prison. Brown, barebacked men, dressed only in simple loincloths; ranging from scrappy young boys to emaciated and frail grandfathers. They are the Hebrews, children of God, slaves of Egypt.
But the next generation of Hebrew men will be nipped in the bud, stolen away from their cradles. Pharaoh Seti fears that the vast and ever multiplying race will eventually rise up and claim back their freedom. He has ordered that all Hebrew baby boys be killed. So it is written, so it shall be done.
A gentle breeze blows through the reeds that lined the banks of the mighty Nile River. A slender white crane dips its head into the waters, retrieving a squirming fish. A lazy crocodile cracks open one amber eye, observing the scene playing out before him. He lifts his head, basking in the rays of the dawning day.
A grand house stands proudly beyond the reeds, the home of Kek and his wife, Rabiah. The newly married couple lies sleeping in their bed, wrapped in the white cotton sheets. Kek is the son of a revered soldier who had worked his way up the social ladder and into the hearts of royalty. Like his father, Kek is charismatic and cunning. He has strong features and a tanned, clean shaven head. His wife Rabiah is the daughter of a wealthy merchant. She has an angular, hollow face and looks much older than her twenty years. On her bony wrists she wears dozens of ornate bracelets. Rabiah has a penchant for lavish things. The young couple sleeps on separate sides of the bed, for the marriage is fresh yet already cold. In the world of the upper class, money always comes before love.
But let us go beyond the glamor of the mansion, beyond the quiet beauty of the Nile, beyond the majesty of the brick laden sculptures and temples. Let us go to a humble dwelling, no more than a shack, with mud brick walls and a sagging thatched roof.
A sharp cry of pain rings through the room. A young woman lays on the dirt floor, naked from the waist down. Tears seep from her large, hazel eyes; her wild black hair is drenched with sweat. Her swollen belly heaves with every labored breath. Two older women tend to her, one clasps her hand, the other kneels between the young woman's legs.
"Just breathe. It will all be over soon Pella." whispers the woman holding her hand. The younger woman glances up, her eyes full of fear.
"I've never been so scared in my life. What if it's...?" The older woman brings a finger to Pella's lips.
"God knows what he's doing, you'll see." she hushes. The second woman looks up. "You're almost there, one more big push!"
Pella clenches her jaw and pushes with all her might. An agonized scream escapes her lips.
Then the shrill cry of a newborn fills the room.
"What is it?" weakly squeaks Pella.
"A little girl!" announces the second woman.
"Oh thank God! Let me see her, let me see my baby." gasps the new mother. The older woman holds up the shiny child and passes her to Pella. She cradles the wailing baby in her shaking arms, then shrieks again. "I thought it was over!"
"Looks like there's another." mutters the second woman. The two older women exchange worried glances.
The first woman takes Pella's face in her hands. "Look, I don't know how this will end, but just focus on getting this baby out, alright?" The young woman whimpers and nods, clutching her newborn daughter to her breast. The minutes drag by. With a final, forceful push, the second baby enters the world.
Silence. "A boy..." the second woman's voice trails off.
The little boy begins to cry. So does his mother.
"What are we going to do? They're going to take him away! They're going to kill my baby!" wails Pella. She reaches for the second baby and fiercely grabs him. "We've got to do something, we've got to save him somehow!" She clings to her twin babies and tries to stand, but ultimately fails. The first woman holds her down.
"Pella, you're too weak. There's nothing anyone can do." says the older woman, "The birth of a son was always such a happy occasion, but in these times..."
Suddenly, two guards burst in through the door. "Is this the home of the slave girl Pella?" they bark. The young mother bites her lip and glares at the men, the same men who had been keeping a watchful eye on her growing stomach.
The taller guard pushes the older women out of the way, while the stouter one reaches for the babies and spreads apart their squirming legs. He smiles. "A girl and a boy. At least you get to keep one." he laughs. He greedily snatches away the baby boy.
Pella quickly hands the girl to one of the older women. With what little strength she has, she lunges at the guards. She digs her nails into the stout guard's leg. "Please don't hurt my baby! Please, I beg of you!" she cries. She reaches for her son, but the tall guard smacks her hand away and the pair storm out the door and into the street. Oblivious the own pain and to the fact that she is half-naked, Pella crawls on her hands and knees after them.
"Stop, please!" she shrieks. She can hear the cries of her infant son. With a great deal of pain, she stands up and hobbles towards the guards and attempts to save the baby one last time. With one powerful swoop, the tall guard grabs Pella by her hair and holds her upright. She struggles against his grip and reaches for her son, tears rolling down her cheeks.
The stout guard laughs once again. "You know, this little bastard was destined to drown, but I think we need to teach this Hebrew bitch a lesson right here, right now." He grabs the screaming newborn by the ankles and smashes him into the wall of the shack. The most horrifying sound Pella has or will ever hear echoes through the air. A spot of bright red blood is visible on the baby's head. He cries no more.
"NO!" she shrieks, but it is too late. It's all over. The tall guard lets go of Pella's hair and she sinks to the ground, sobbing. They carry away the dead baby like the carcass of a goose or a hare. The older women rush out and help the hysterical Pella back into the shack. They hand her the surviving baby, the little girl. Pella clings to the baby and shakes, her whole body wracked by the uncontrollable sobs.
She stays like that for hours, crying, holding on to her baby for dear life. That horrible sound rings through her head, over and over. She had seen evil in its purest form that day, a day which should have been filled with joy.
At the end of the day, her husband, Bin, comes home. He knows. He holds Pella as she sobs into his shoulder, and then goes outside to face the moonlight. He buries his head in his rough and calloused hands and sheds his own tears, in private. He must be strong for his wife, and for his new daughter. They must never see him cry.
Pella gazes upon the wrinkled face of her sleeping daughter. Bin comes back inside and through their grief, they admire the little creature that was spared.
They decide to name her Nadia. It means hope.