REBIRTH
Chapter Three: The Beginning
3000 B.C. Ancient Egypt
It was when the heavens were crying that the young Atem was born, much to the joy of his father the Pharaoh, in a corner of the room stood another man with a young boy grabbing his leg. Set had never seen childbirth before and he had to admit that he was very glad he wasn't born a girl; Set approached the new born and smiled at his little cousin as lightning flashed across the night sky. It was during one of the clashes between lightning and earth that a small bundle appeared on the step of Saimun Muran. A sick Saimun, hearing the cries coming from his door, tottered to the sound, opening his door he looked down and saw the basket. With a groan he bent, rain falling on his cloth covered head, and removed some of the cloth that covered the babe's face. Upon the cloths removal he saw a small tuff of black hair, and a note with one word: Heba. The babe wrinkled his little face as rain fell onto his nose and opened his eyes showing a deep and clear amethyst. His eyes held unto the old man's and Heba smiled, than giggled, until another clash of thunder could be heard, then Heba started to whimper, than scream, and finally he shrieked as lightning bolts flashed over and over again while thunder shock the ground. Shadow energy circled around the old man and babe, forming an effective barrier from light and sound. Saimun sucked in his breath at how much raw energy the babe had. With a furtive glance around Saimun scooped up the basket than retreated into his warm house, coughing as he cradled Heba, the boy giggling again when he felt the old man's fast movements.
In another part of the city a little girl was humming to herself as she rocked her little brother to sleep, she smiled as she watched Hito's eyes close then snap open as the stubborn baby refused to sleep. In the cradle beside her a girl baby was rolling around, giggling as she twisted this way and that. The girl sighed as another lightning strike illuminated the room. A door opened and her mother stepped into the room, pulling a wrap around her arms. Smiling at her eldest daughter the woman lifted Mana from the cradle and started to sing a lullaby as she swung the baby around. The little girl joined her mother, grinning as she swung Hito around as well. Laughter was heard as the two danced around each other, either could see or sense the power that throbbed around the twins.
On the dunes of the Sahara Desert a gypsy man was pacing in front of his tent, his wife had gone into labor early, much too early to be healthy. The fortune teller bit his lip as he made another round in the sand, pulling his cloak around himself more firmly as he heard his wife scream. Tears welled up in his eyes as he remembered his vision: a girl child born, his wife dead, his powers magnified by some strange shadow in his only child. Shaking his head to clear his thoughts away he reminded himself that the future could be changed, but inside his heart was already breaking. A wail could be heard inside his tent, one from the babe the other from his wife. Tears flowed down his face as he realized what that meant, one life for another. Pulling away the flap the gypsy looked inside and saw his mother crumpled to the floor, weeping in joy and sorrow as the midwife closed his wife's eyes. Silently he looked at his daughter and reached for her, pausing just before he touched her, then he picked her up and held her close to his heart, repeating the name of his dead wife as he wept bitterly. Teana snuggled into her father's chest as she took in another breath of the desert night.
Several days of hard riding away from Egypt a young woman was slowly bleeding to death as she crawled up the steps of the Temple of Hera. In one arm she carried her newborn son, Jono, as she used her other to brace herself on each step. Dizziness made her head swim as each pulling motion caused more blood to escape her womb. Her red eyes were slightly glazed by the time she made her way to the entrance of the temple, her gold hair escaping from the hairdo her master, her lover, had ordered done. The woman strained against the closed doors, opening them just enough for her to slip inside. Breathe escaped her in harsh gasps as she took one last look at her son, who was sleeping peacefully in her arms. Laying him at the feet of Hera she stroked his black hair, his father's hair, and closed her eyes. Jono squirmed in his bundle of blankets and started to cry, his cries reverberated around the wall, but the slave woman from Sparta could not hold him, her soul was already on its way across the River Styx. He cried over and over again gathering his need around himself until a dark shape curled around him, forming a black dragon with red eyes. Feeling warm again Jono cooed and returned to sleep, the dragon nuzzling his face.