|Sands from Egypt
Author: FlashFreeze PM
A collection of starcrossed lovers, during the time of the reign of the ancient gods of Egypt; Ra, Osiris, Isis, Bast, Horus, Anubis, and Sekmet and Hathor. See from their eyes, the tragic tales of their human worshippers.Rated: Fiction T - English - Romance/Tragedy - Words: 3,724 - Reviews: 2 - Favs: 2 - Follows: 2 - Published: 12-31-10 - id: 6610411
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Sands from Egypt
How many people are like, "WTF, update your other two." I'm sorry, it's not that I've lose inspiration, rather, I've gained, and have ideas for like everyone… but I don't have time. Yeah, it makes no sense that I can write this one, and not update the other two, but this is like… an idea I'm testing. I'm really not too sure how I'll do at this, because stuff of Ancient Egypt and Egyptian mythology, really are not of my usual interests, nor are they my forte. Anyways, have fun with this test. See you all soon in For good and Meeting Minutes on Mount Olympus. Oh and apparently the gods of Egypt or owned by Ra.
The Temple of Osiris was grand, and large. Cool alabaster pillars were erected to support the high rooftop, which was white as well. The floor was tiled and cool under the young boy's feet. A hooded figure made his way to the altar where he would do his prayers. From his hands, a bowl of incense swung to and fro. It smelled strange to him, although he was used to it. There was frankincense, kyphi and lotus oil. The heavy smell of the burning dusts reached his nose. The boy was dressed in a traditional robe, with blue and gold designs at the edge of his hood and sleeves and at the bottom of his robe. A golden rope kept it together at his waist, and intricate knot held the rope. The boy passed many other priests on his journey to the altar. He bowed to them, as they were his elders. They bowed back out of acknowledgement. He was the youngest priest of Osiris, he made a record. Only his parents were proud of that, he was simply grateful for being allowed in this grand hall he considered sanctuary. His name was Ausar, which was almost considered blasphemy, for his namesake, was another name for the god Osiris, himself. As a young child, people would often regard him as a curse.
Until, that one day.
Ausar, often referred to himself as another name, an alias, to prevent him from being loathed, disapproved. Scorned. Amonhotep. He did not know why he chose this name. He was serving Osiris, yet his alias worshipped another. Did it matter though? This priesthood took him in. The main temple of Osiris took him in; the temple where the Pharaoh himself worshipped and prayed. Ausar stopped before he reached the alabaster statue of Osiris. He took his bowl and hung it up on a hook stuck to the wall. He put his hands together, and bowed to the bowl. Reciting nothing, simply bowing out of duty, which deemed the bowl a sacrifice. He let his hands fall to his waist, and proceeded his journey to the statue. He stopped as soon as the great foot and calves of the giant statue appeared under his hooded view. Ausar raised his head up to see the gods face. An act which was deemed forbidden. Ausar would have taken off his hood, but that too was seen as a prohibited action. He would be condemned should he do that. Ausar bowed to Osiris, and fell to his knees to pray.
As soon as the ritual was done, he got up again, and made his way around the altar. The prayers were long and often recited in his head. He kept them close to him, he owed it to Osiris.
On his journey out of the temple, he passed the priestesses of Isis. Although he was a priest, Ausar was still eighteen, and longed to look into their faces. Under his hood, in his hidden stare, he would gaze at them. More particularly, the shortest priestess, at the end of the line. For one reason or another, he would long to look into her eyes. She always seemed the most graceful, the most pristine, the most beautiful. If he could not see her face, he at least longed to know her name. The women bowed to him, as he was a male. He nodded his recognition. A smirk touched his lips as he noted how the small girl did not bow. In fact she only proceeded to Osiris. The Priestesses were required to praise Osiris as well Isis, for he was resurrected by her, and as followers of his wife, they had to praise him. Ausar paused to watch the small girl follow her troupe. He smiled once again. Once he reached the house of the brothers, shed his outer robe. Ausar was not an eyesore. He was rather a opposite. His skin, was tan, unlike the olive tone of his fellow priesthood. He was arguably the most built out of them as well. His muscles were defined, and chiselled, under the skin. When he moved they rippled beneath the flesh. His hair was still in place. He was not yet qualified to shave the top of yet. It was simply limp and free, with gold clasps holding two portions of his tresses. His hair went down to just below his shoulder blades. Opening his drawer, Ausar retrieved a gold neck clasp which hung on his shoulders. He opened the clasp and shut it around his neck. The sapphire scarab at the front shone due to the moonlight pouring into the window. The light shone in the eye of another priest, Nassor, twenty two years old.
"Ammon, again?" He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. Ausar turned at the nickname of his alias.
"I deserve to, and so do you Nassor." Ausar clasped yet another gold band around his waist to secure the cotton cloth skirt. "The young ones all do."
Nassor chuckled at the boy. "Indeed, but we chose this life of priesthood." Nassor got up and stretched. "It is difficult to believe the head priest has not caught your gold yet." Ausar chuckled at him. The gold accessories were actually well hidden. In his drawer, Ausar built a small compartment behind the rest of the drawer to hold his gold adornments. He turned his back to his friend and opened the took a dusty old robe. It was brown and made of linen, unlike the priests' cotton ones. "You leave so blatantly.
"Make sure you do not bed a young woman."
The eighteen year old turned his head, and flashed a mischievous smile at Nassor before exiting. Ausar often left the Priest house and traversed around the city, now known as Cairo. The sand grinded softly under his sandals. He pushed himself onto the dirt road. The houses which were usually white, were shaded under the night sky. He hears some people still awake. In one house a booming noise raised from the roof, men, partied away. This was the rich neighbourhood. It was closest to them temple, therefore the well fortuned lived closest to it. As he made his way through to uptown area, Ausar found himself at the border between rich and poor, just after the market place. He smirked. The market was owned by the poor, and the rich shopped here. As he saw it, the poor controlled the rich, yet they made no notice of this, because of that great dependency on money. These houses were still white, but they were plain. They were not shabby, just small, simple. Ausar pulled off the linen hood and kept his pace as he walked through the lesser side of the city. He spotted a few girls, no more than his own age, standing together by a closed vegetable stand. As he walked past them, they all stopped their chattering and looked at him. He grinned at them. They began to giggle, and the girl closest to him turned back to her friends and began whispering. They giggled even more. Ausar laughed and shook his head. Girls. Going past the city boundaries, Ausar went to the small nomadic tent area, where gypsies often sold treasures in the depth of the night. These were the outskirts. If the head priests new he were there they would surely expel him. But the trick was, to sneak out while they were praying, and performing their other rituals.
A shadow caught Ausar's eye. It moved swiftly to the nomads tents. Ausar checked behind him. Was it Nassor? Perhaps it was Odion or Sefu. Ausar pulled his hood back on and followed it. He stood at one of tents which sold fine minerals, and gems. He turned his head and watched as the shadow conversed with a merchant about the fine goods. Bracelets. Necklaces. Earrings. This confirmed that it was none of the priests back at the temple. They had no reason to buy such jewellery. Of course, men could decorate themselves in such things, but those were so feminine, no man would possibly wear those. A frail, dainty hand reached out at the ruby necklace, than waved its rejection. The merchant frowned but beckoned his thanks. The shadow bowed, so elegantly, and went off. Amused, Ausar followed it again. The figure was stopped in front of a tent of weapons. A staff with a hooked scythes and scimitars and a long handled axe. All made of some sort of fine mineral. Copper or bronze perhaps. The gypsies never sold cheap items. The linen robed boy kept walking toward the figure quietly, as it too kept moving. It stopped. Ausar jumped behind a tent of rugs, hiding behind a huge Arabic rug. He paused for a second than strained to see the figure behind his hiding spot. It was just standing there. He did not know what it was doing, and decided it had not seen him, so he got up and made his way towards it. Perhaps the figure was lost. Ausar reached his hand to grasp the figure's shoulder, until he saw a faint glimmer. The figure turned, swiftly and began to hack at him, a scimitar in its hand. Ausar jumped back, and grabbed a scythe. He blocked the blows of the frightening sword and pushed back. The figure raised the scimitar over its head, and chopped down. Ausar hooked the scythe under the hook of the scimitar, and pulled back, launching the scimitar out of hand. The figure bounced back again, and kicked a spear to himself, and spun the spear head to Ausar. With it, he violently prodded at Ausar. Ausar kept pulling back, and dodging the strikes, until one clean swipe was so rapidly swung at him, that he lost his balance and fell back upon the rugs. The shadow stayed in a defensive position, the spear head targeted at his face. "Who are you? Speak." A girls voice rang, aggressively and quickly. She barely gave him time to process the question, until she began gesturing the spear at him. Prodding but never touching. "Answer me." She said firmly. Ausar got up and balanced himself on his hands. With one hand he clasped two fingers on the side of the spear head and pushed it away from his face. "Amonhotep." The figure nudged the spear head back at his face. He put his hand down again. With the spear head the figure unhooded him. To him or her, his face was revealed. That rare grey eye colour, the ebony hair and tanned face. His firm, soft nude lips slightly parted, and one thin arched eyebrow turned down. His face was quite handsome. Obviously, the figure deemed him safe and relaxed, standing straight again, holding the spear upright. "Why did you follow me."
"I have never seen you go past here before," Ausar answered. "I was curious."
The figure stepped back, cautiously, as Ausar stood and dusted himself off. "I might say the same for you. You come here often?" Ausar nodded.
"Very well." And the figure turned its back on him. Ausar cocked his head and smirked, dangerous move he thought. Ausar grabbed her shoulder and spun her, pressing her front to his front and held her waist tightly. The other hand held her wrist, to hold the spear in place. The girl was completely subdued to him. She grunted and hit him with the other hand. Ausar tensed the arm which held the girls wrist, locking his hold and preventing her from delivering a fatal blow. In the midst of her struggle the girl's hood fell off. The girl grunted and struggled, but try as she might, Ausar out powered her. Finally, after one last trashing the girl relaxed, and looked down to the side. She eyes him, and he looked down at her. She swiftly turned up to him and stared. She was the first girl to ever be this close to him. She was also the first beautiful girl to ever capture his eyes. lips were tender and soft. He could smell that she rubbed oil on them to keep them unchapped. Her nose was small and dainty. Her cheeks stained lightly with a rosey, silky blush, probably from his intense gaze and the closeness. Or perhaps from her tussle. But what captivated him the most was the pair of honey brown irises, that swirled into a dark brown as it closed around her pupil. Her long lashes beat down against her cheeks. "Excuse me." She monotonously called to him. She moved her head to position itself so she could look at him. Her black hair was straight and thick. It flowed down to her mid-back. She arched her back, to move her head a bit farther from him. A gold circlet crowned her head, and two gold clasps clutched a bunch of her hair holding it in place. Those clasps rested just above her breasts, and the rest of the hair hung lazily off them. On her shoulders was a big shoulder brace made of finely crafted silver, with gold finishes on them. The symbol of Isis engraved at the front. A wrap of cotton clothe wove itself over her breasts and wrapped under the shoulder brace. Her stomach was bare and the rest of her was covered by a skirt which pulled up and was tied into a knot over her navel, the rest of knot hung loosely down to cover her private regions and her thighs. Her robe was parted over shoulders. "Who are you." It was more a statement than a question. The girl's beauty was so enamouring, Ausar could barely take not knowing who she was.
"Why should I trust you." Pushed him with her free arm, it made no difference, she only pushed her chest further off his chest.
Ausar smiled at her futile effort. "Because I'm a stranger."
"Perfect sense," Ausar interrupted. The girl's face contorted with confusion. "A stranger does not know you. So they can't betray you. They can't hurt you."
The girl turned her face sceptically, but kept her eyes on him. "But if I give you my name…"
"I will know your name, and only your name." He smiled.
The girl could not help but smile as well. She fluttered her lashes and looked at him, neither really aware of the flirtatious gesture. "Well… I am Rashida."
It was now Ausar's turn to look sceptically. "That is an Arabic name."
The girl nodded and smiled. "My parents, travelled. I was born in an Arabic country, but we quickly moved back here, that I may be blessed by the goddesses."
"How noble of them."
Rashida nodded again. "We stayed among the Arabs for five years of my life. We came back here after."
"And how long have you been here, in Egypt?"
"Eleven years," That made her sixteen, Ausar thought. Two years less than himself.
"Why do you sneak around, Rashida, in a cloak and hooded?"
Rashida turned to look square in his face. Her eyes were untrusting again. She stared deeply at him. Ausar decided he would not force her to talk until, "You are a stranger Ammon. I will trust you," she relaxed in his hold. "I am a priestess." Ausar's eyes widened at that fact. "That temple, there," she continued, and looked up at the grand temple of Isis which was connected to the temple of Osiris. "Is where I stay and work. But I am young, and only volunteer my services as gratitude for Isis' care over my family and I." The boy holding her stared at the temple as well. She grinned at him and cocked an eyes brow, placing her free hand on her hips, again, she arched backward, and moved her chest away from him. "Don't think you can find me, we are all hooded and robed, you would never find me."
Ausar shook his head at her. Could she be the small priestess? Rashida was a small girl. She was very short. Her head would barely touch his chin, if they both stood erect. Was this the small girl that captivated him so at the temple. The one who refused to bow. The one who seemed to be graceful yet fierce? It was plausible, the way Rashida fought him back, he would not be surprised that this was the girl that he was infatuated with. Rashida quirked head at him, and laid a hand on his neck. Ausar snapped out of his trance of though and looked into his eyes. He would never be sure. Rashida shuffled in his hold. Their small conversation made them both forget of the iron hold he had around her waist, that ground their hips together. During his thoughts, Ausar hardly realized what his anatomy was doing beneath his skirt. The priest only realized when Rashida began to flush and fidget in his hold. Upon his realization, Ausar flushed as well, and let go of her wrist and waist. Instead of pushing back violently, like her previous response, Rashida stepped back, and held her ground. He stepped back as well, putting little distance between them. Only enough that personal space was recovered once again. He looked into her eyes, as Rashida threw the spear back down. Her captor laughed. "Funny how a priestess is such a good fighter." The girl laughed along with him.
"I wasn't always brought up as a priestess. I only recently became one." The young man did not talk, silently surging her to continue her explanation. "They said I had exceptional literacy, and that should be preserved." This explained a lot. Girls who excelled in hieroglyphics and other writings were often ushered into priestess-hood. Rashida sat down on a pile of rugs and pat beside her. He understood and sat down beside her, listening to her story. She used to be a bit of a tomboy as a small child and practiced some fighting. Other than that, she explained that when she was young, in Arabia, her parents started teaching her to read and write in Arabic as well as Egyptian Hieroglyphs. When they returned, she continued her studying, and was discovered when they visited a temple of Isis. The head priestess recommended they go to the grand temple, this current one, and enter her as a priestess. Because her family was poor, and being the parent of priestess would earn them some esteem, her parents agreed. Ausar would sometimes interject to ask questions, some she could not answer such as, how could her parents afford to travel, when they were poor. Others she could, such as why she agreed. She agreed to pay homage to Isis for her provision and care. She carried on with her story, and Ausar kept on listening.
"I joined this convent, six years ago." This grabbed Ausar's attention. Six years ago is when he first saw the small priestess. "But, I only started sneaking out recently." Ausar inquired as to why.
"I saw a priest sneak out from the house of Osiris' priests. I saw not his face or his body. Only a shadow of him, just a few weeks ago. I admired him since, and copied." The small girl drew her knees to her chest and cradled them. "I just wish I could see him." Ausar smirked at the irony. He listened to the whimsical sigh of the priestess, she really wanted to see him, almost as badly as he wanted to know if she was the one. Ausar stayed still and looked at her look wistfully at the nothingness. He barely noticed how much time had passed. Looking at the moon, he noticed the sky had grown to be very, very dark. It had to be a little past midnight. Not only did he have to worry about the priests checking on Nassor and his room, but he had to worry about Rashida figuring out who he was.
A sudden clever thought clicked. "Rashida, look at the moon."
Said girl's eyes widened and looked up, she inhaled a sharp breath and picked herself up. She took the hood and popped it back over her head and turned back at the cunning priest."Ammon, I-I'm sor- I have to go, it's late and-"
Ausar stopped her ramble by standing and putting a finger lightly on her lips. "I understand."
The girl looked into his eyes and nodded. "I Hope to see you again, Ammon." With that, she turned and ran off towards the temple. Ammon smiled at the irony of what had occurred between them. He chuckled and picked up his cloak, pulling it over his shoulders, and putting the hood back on. He knew, he knew he and Rashida would see each other much, much sooner than she expected.
I really did intend this to be a oneshot, but as wrote then read it, it just seemed so bad to chunk it all together. Well, have fun guys. If you really can't picture the descriptions, tell me. I have drawings of them, I don't mind posting. It was really hard to describe what they looked like becasue i really like Greek things more, and, i was too lazy and admittedly a little frightened of googling Ancient egyptian clothing. So yes... Drop a review.
Constructive Criticism, flames are mean, and just a waste of yours and my time.