Prologue I: The Reflection that Lies
The hills of Alanya echoed with the whirlwind of the winter breeze as a woman was in labour pain. She screamed as she pushes the girl hard out of her womb and many onlookers passed, they did not care for the woman, not even an iota.
"Paniwi, hold on…" A man helped her with care couldn't save the dying woman.
"Sir only you are the first to be compassionate, rehema… rehema… r-rehem… I-I wish I had never left Egypt…" The weak woman's eye couldn't sustain anymore light. Her breath is failing as the infant inhaled exchanged her first in the vast streets of Turkey.
"Paniwi… I know you I am no stranger to you… No please…open your eyes, please… Open! OPEN YOUR EYES!" The man wailed, as he was cradling the infant, the woman passed into a new life, away from the daughter whom she will never see smile at her, call her by name, sing to her.
The man could not believe he was holding the woman's child. He has loved her but not the child. He remembered the Paniwi would serve the courts without ceasing as she was taken to the royal courts once and had lain with the Pharaoh. He had followed Paniwi to Alanya as she was exiled for adultery and the man followed her.
This child in his arms however was born out of wedlock. He has a child that the Pharaoh abandoned. Not one in the courts would believe her as she pleaded for vindication. Paniwi, was merely a slave to the Pharaoh and no one felt compassion. As the man had his mind replaying rehema in his mind he held the infant.
"Hey there, move it Gypsy!" an old lady yelled. The man had no choice but to leave Paniwi. He took the child and will raise her.
As time passed, the same old lady followed the man down the alley, "You are in need of help, Heru Olabisi." The man was surprised.
"I know many things…" She placed her palms on the infant's palms and a flash occurred.
"She is now a sorceress of Time," The old lady smiled. As Heru saw the wailing infant, her right palm has an Ankh with a snake with one an eye of Udjat in a more abstract shape.
"Wait how do I…" The mysterious woman left.
Heru had to find a home for himself and the infant so he turned to a narrow street. The torched street was limited and thus, difficult to see. By the horizon, he saw a paddock and an old cottage, seemingly vacant and needed refurbishment.
It was warm enough as he entered the clay cottage. Old scrolls and parchment were left scattered on the table.
Heru placed the child in a small wooden box and wrapped her with sheet of sackcloth that was place on the floor. That would warm her enough. As he watched the girl fall into instant peace, he knew he had done justice of finding a place for her.
He also covered the doorway with sackcloth as well as the window. With that done, he saw the old occupant's notes written in Turkish.
Rehema, as one hears the name, one mocks the meek personality, weak in all aspects of social statuses. Rehema, as one who hear will the name again is a foolish name. The Compassionate One, the one who is kind, gentle but it is a meaning. Rehema it is a girl who is hallowed with shame…
'I will be gone by tomorrow to Egypt… Goodbye' Heru was not the least surprised. At this time, many have migrated in and out of Turkey and Egypt. For now, this girl he has adopted… he will call her his daughter: Rehema Olabisi.
As he saw a shiny reflection of him and the infant, something was odd about the child. She has an aura of magenta surrounding her. As he glanced at the girl again, nothing reflected the aura.
Authoress' notes: I shall sustain a low profile in this story… I'll try to… Time is of the essence! I shall sneak this in a new story to do.
Prologue II: Metaphysical in the Making
Heru and Rehema had lived together for ten years and Alanya had been their home. She glanced at the marking on her palms and wondered why there are so detailed. They are detailed symbols that reveal something interesting. As he though of a moment in the past three minutes, she watches the event play again as she places her palms together.
Rehema was shocked and realised this was bizarre. "Father, what are those markings on my hands?"
Heru could tell Rehema had discovered something from the mysterious woman that have bestowed on her.
"This is... this is a gift from a…" Heru was troubled, whether he should confess that she was not his biological daughter.
"Father… Are you unwell?" Rehema asked.
"No sweetheart, those are just tattoos from Egypt." Heru lied. "They are from the Pharaoh. The Gods have blessed you with this to magnify their glory so that we may not forget where we came from." He lied further.
Rehema smiled naively and twirled around. Her wavy violet long hair reaches halfway down her back. She loved how honey orbs reflect the sunlight. She was tanned and he knew it was not inherited from her father's ebony locks.
She took her staff and she was ready to Shepard the sheep back to the paddock.
Heru watched her, "If I told her, she will surely leave me." He thought and with the great amount of trouble.
Rehema paused, thinking about the past 10 minutes and tried again with palms together, she was able to rewind herself back to where she was sitting but this time as an observer from the window. As she read her father's expression, she could now tell he was hiding something. As the time balanced back to her in the paddock she could now trust these powers.
The clouds gathered, as rain was about to pour heavily. She knew this was a gift indeed so she took a parchment and wrote the events that had occurred secretly.
Rehema glanced at her right palm and trailed the markings. She could try the future. As she thought, to be safe 10 minutes into the future, some of her parchment were shifted and the rain was heavier suddenly and her father was cooking something for them. However she realised that it would not take her back to the past present. She gasped and realised her limits so she noted to herself not to try that unless it was an urgent situation.
The rain slowly eased and she found the fresh Mediterranean air revitalising. As soon as her father finished cooking she sat by him and had plain lentils and bread.
While Heru helped her finish her food, she started creating her pottery.
"Rehema, today seems short…" Heru suddenly said.
"Huh, oh does it? I must be daydreaming but it seems normal father." She lied, as she knew only that her powers did something along the event.
He glanced at her and was about to say something until she suddenly hugged him.
"Father, how is this pretty pottery?"
"Wonderful, We could sell it at the markets. I think the Queen of Kings would be interested in your pottery."
"Mmm, I think so too." Rehema smiled.
She was now interested to meet the royalty of Egypt. The Queen of Kings is the current Pharaoh who many villagers in Turkey talked about. She will visit them some day and thus bring her Royal Officials with her.
Rehema rolled her dress up to her knees to see the other children singing a tune that made her giggle. She placed the pottery in the earth oven.
She had created various pots and crockery and Heru designed them as well as herd sheep in their farm.
This was now time for her to wash her hands and snuff the candle.
A bully pushed a boy over. She then hid herself behind a pot. She realised she was able to temper with the past so she thought back five minutes as she placed her palms together she could see the bully following the boy around. She climbed up an easy wall where there were beans being sun died and a small wooden tube and blew on the boy that was stalking the little boy. The bully was looking around. What was the shot of pain on his face?
It was hard and the spits where faster as it stung his face even more "Agh!" He yelled. One was aimed directly into his eye and he ran. She smiled and continued her way further into the streets.
Prologue III: The Astarte Legacy
As Seth have passed on to the afterlife, uncertainty of the Shadow Legacy. The Millennium Items have been suspended and distributed to families who serve the King of Old. The treacheries of the Shadow Games have been sealed as Isis the Priestess had a daughter named Keket who is now over twelve years old. Her husband Mahad was by her side in spirit and her brother Malek. Isis was now part of the noble tribe of the Ashtarte clan.
"Isis, these are the Millennium Items of our King Seth who have entrusted us, also the prophecy of Atem within this walls are scribed." Malek said as he examined the designs of the three Egyptian God tablets under the wings of the Sun disk. The news of the Pharaoh's daughter, who lives, she is found in Alanya and with foreigner serving Cleopatra.
"I'd imagine she was banished from her mother's treason. I have heard of her name and I have given her my powers of time, brother." Isis informed her brother. Isis has aged in time as her cerulean orbs glistened through the night. Her wrinkles creased through her tan skin as she reminisced about the night of the woman who laboured 'Out of the Wedlock.' "Her name is Rehema as no men have given her compassion."
The boy in flaxen blonde held a scroll of the Grave Keepers Design and had he wanted to find a wife, he needed a partner to enter a deeper kind of slavery… a spiritual slavery. He realised his love for the scriptures is to perform a ritual as a mark of the new plethoric era. He must go to find Rehema, she has the powers of time. He used his lavender eyes to invent a tourniquet scripture for the Shadow. Malek sighed as he pondered about his father's demand to kill the children who have defiled the sacred order of the pharaoh's crimes. That was injustice in itself.
Malek stood, as he knew of his father's whereabouts to find the girl. "I must find her and assume the worse of her from my father's demands. How far is Alanya, Isis?" Malek knew of the Item he must use to locate the girl and that is through seeking her mind: The Millennium Rod.
"Laban shall escort you my brother, I assume it is not too far as it is by the coast." Isis simpered as her teenage brother caressed one item.
"It shall be a walk in the dark as I see myself using the forbidden powers of the Shadows." Malek addressed his concern for wielding the Item.
"You must find her no matter. We Shunt let the Shadow Rites impeach darkness on our family" The Elderly woman spoke.
"Indeed, I must seek her before my father does. Farewell sister and take care…"
"I will be around Alanya in a different journey… farewell for now."
Prologue IV: The Queen of Kings warns the Sorceress
Rehema who is now thirteen became fond of the national guest as she watched the crowd watching the Beauty of Egypt soak in the shimmering beach. She was divine and many onlookers saw how delicate she was. Her officials seem to notice Rehema's distinctive features. Her violet hair was tied loosely with gold linen and she wears mustard coloured dress accustomed to the Turkish noble culture.
"You over there, the Pharaoh wishes to see you." One of the officials saw her. "Are you an Egyptian?"
"I am not an Egyptian sir… I am Turkish." Rehema wondered why out of all people they chose to speak to her.
"Bring the girl here…" The woman said as she came up and was covered in silk as her slaves wrapped the Pharaoh Queen Cleopatra in her teenage years.
"I see you are a farmer in Alanya, what brings you here to see me?" Cleopatra asked her.
"I…" She lifted her hand to push her hair back and Cleopatra saw her marking.
"You are an Egyptian, you do not look local at all sweet child." The ankh was too obvious.
The girl was speechless as the woman exacted her origin. "Priest Astarte must not know of your whereabouts…" Cleopatra said.
"Priest Astarte is a tyrant, a rebel who has defiled the Court of Order. He was my most loyal Priest until his family inherited an Item from Priest Seto from the dawn of times.
"High Priest Astarte, does he know me, Your Majesty?" Rehema inquired.
"He is seeking the descendant of the One "Out of the Wedlock'." Cleopatra said as she went up her to her Litter. "Be cautious, he is an evil man. And will stop at nothing to wield your power, young Sorceress."
She was carried away and leaving Rehema with many questions. Is she really a child born 'Out of Wedlock'?
The shores were accumulating in tides as the full moon rose even in the daytime. Rehema knew she had never met her mother and she only has Heru as a father. Did that mean Heru took her into custodianship.
She could see the past as she does have the powers to do so. If she needed the answers, she could use her palm to reveal what happened fourteen years ago.
She was about to press her palm until an old lady smiled at her. "It is impossible for one to change the past, but the future…"
"I am a Sorceress like you, I have been watching over you since Paniwi passed away." She said gently.
"Paniwi, show is the person you mentioned…"
"Your mother, she was a Slave to the late Pharaoh and was exiled. You were born here as she drew her last breath. If you want to know more, you have to let your powers guide you from the Heart…" Rehema stared at the horizon.
"But how do I know where my heart leads me if…" The old lady left again, she disappeared.
All was puzzling as she walked to the streets again and she heard men on horses. His men escorted a young boy who seemed ambitious to the fields towards her cottage. He was tanned and wears a tunic much like Cleopatra's officials. He has sandy blond bangs and a Uraeus placed on his head.
"My Lord, Her Majesty must have arrived to greet the Sorceress, it is best we meet the Pharaoh instead of pursuing the girl." His official informed him. The boy nodded. They turned around and headed back to the shore. Rehema quickly hid. He was holding a golden staff with a symbol like on in her left palm.
She dashed back to her feet and ran home. "Could he be the High Priest Astarte?" She thought long and hard she reached home and her Father Heru was sound asleep. She knew he was not her biological Father. She lifted her his blanket and covered Heru.
Priest Astarte… was that him? She could tell that none of her story makes sense, are they looking for her.
Could it be that her mother was gone and Heru took her in as his own daughter?
She untied her hair and her violet locks dispersed evenly. She let more candles around her home. It seemed that Heru had done the chores while she was gone.
She wrote more about the mysterious lady that she has met today and more about how she had finally met the young Pharaoh, Her Majesty Cleopatra.
When time comes she has to face the truth with Heru…
She scribbled on her parchment that night. Crickets were chattering at every stroke she has with the truth she found out. So the establishment of the Grave Keepers begins through a boy who wields the Millennium Rod and the girl who wields Time in the palm of her hands.