Rebirth (Legends of the Kilanor Book 2)

by Jared Stone

  Samael reached up and cupped his hand upon the girl’s cheek. “Welcome back, Lilith,” he whispered softly.

  Epilogue

  93 CE: Anatolia

  “Dareia…,” Argus said timidly as he watched the priestess wrap up the shiny black Bracer of Osiris in cloth and tie it tightly with string for their journey, “do you think that it might be best to just keep the bracer? It is a very powerful tool, and we could use it for benevolent purposes….”

  Dareia shot a scornful look in his direction. “This power is not ours to bear,” she stated coolly. “This bracer belongs to Osiris and his followers. That is where we shall deliver it.”

  Argus racked his brain for anything which could be said to convince the priestess. “But… think of how useful it would be to be able to resurrect those who have died! We would never have to worry about death again!”

  “Why would I wish to resurrect those who have died,” Dareia continued sternly as she firmly tied the final knot, “when I am usually the one doing the killing?”

  Argus hung his head where he sat. “But, I was just thinking…, perhaps I would be able to bring her back….”

  As if something had suddenly clicked in Dareia’s mind, she shot her emerald eyes away from her handiwork and cast a soft, empathetic gaze over at her companion. “Oh, Argus…,” she said, slowly shaking her head. “You know that that cannot be. Even if you were to manage such a feat, she would not be the woman you knew and loved. She would be nothing but a slave. An abomination of nature. I know that you would not wish such a fate for her. You must love her enough to let her go….”

  A tear ran down Argus’ cheek and hit the wooden boards beneath him. The droplet’s splatter created a wet starburst of purity upon the otherwise dusty floor. “But, Dareia, I am scared,” Argus admitted pitifully. He looked up at the priestess with obvious pain in his eyes. “I feel as though my memories of her are already fading. With each passing day, each successive life, I remember her less and less. If I let her go, I fear that one day she might disappear from my mind altogether….”

  Dareia laid the wrapped armband down gently on the floor and walked over to the man. Sitting down beside him, she put her arm delicately around his shoulder as more tears began to openly stream down his face. “Io will never fade from you completely,” she assured him quietly. “She has been, and still is, a part of you. She is imprinted upon your very being. No amount of distance or time could ever change that.”

  Argus wiped at his eyes with dirty hands, creating long, dark streaks on his cheeks and forehead. “I pray that you are right,” he said despairingly, “for I do not believe I could suffer such a loss….”

  “I have been around long enough to be certain that I am right,” said the priestess, standing up and taking the man’s hand in her own. “Now, come along. You should wash up and eat before we leave. We have a long journey ahead of us….”

  * * *

  93 CE: Egypt

  Argus and Dareia finally arrived on the shores of Egypt after many long days of travel. They first had to board a ship from Anatolia in the north down to the entrance of the Nile River, after which they had changed vessels and sailed along miles of winding, seemingly endless river to the port of Abydos. By the time they finally touched land, Argus wished to never leave solid ground again.

  They had come to Abydos to visit the Osireion, the seat of the Cult of Osiris in Egypt. The temple was thankfully not far at all from the port, and the two wearied travelers reached its location after only a few minutes of walking. Argus looked down over the ridge upon which they stood and beheld, set deep into an expansive pit in the ground, row after row of perfectly squared blocks stacked atop one another to form a series of rectangular arches. The intense mid-afternoon sun beat down on them and cast strong, crisscrossing shadows over the length of the complex. It was an impressive sight to be sure, yet it lacked the impressive grandeur Argus had anticipated in a temple for the king of the Egyptian gods. Still, he had the sensation somewhere deep in the back of his mind that he had been to this place before, though he was unable to readily call up memories of such an experience.

  “Is this truly the place?” he asked the priestess. “I see no temple here. Only these stone arrangements.”

  Dareia shrugged her shoulders. “I have never been to this site before. I know as little as you…,” she admitted.

  “High Priestess Dareia and Master Argus,” a deep voice stated from behind them in strongly accented Latin. They both turned and beheld a gigantic man with flesh the color of coal and large, intense eyes that seemed to bore into them. This man wore thin, white pants and little else, other than a massive scimitar hanging at his waist. Both of his wrists were also adorned with thick golden bands.

  “How do you know our names?” Dareia inquired defensively.

  “We have been expecting you,” the large man said. “Follow me.”

  Without waiting for a response, their guide passed by them and began to descend a stone staircase into the pit below. Dareia followed behind him first, now clutching tighter than ever the wrapped bracer in her arms. Argus walked down closely behind her. When they had reached the bottom of the staircase, their guide turned right, passing through several rectangular stone arches, then came to stand before an alcove in one of the rock walls.

  “Where are you leading us?” Dareia asked. Argus could tell that the uncertainty and lack of control made her uneasy, and he could certainly sympathize with that sentiment. But, instead of providing them with an answer, the large man simply held out his palm facing the wall before him. Immediately, his hand lit up with a golden aura, and the solid rock panel that was there shimmered briefly and then vanished altogether. Behind it, another set of stone stairs led down into darkness.

  “Here,” the man said, pointing down into the portal. Without further explanation, the man then turned and walked away from the pair, leaving them alone to stare at one another with uncertainty.

  “What do you think is down there?” Argus asked Dareia nervously.

  “There is only one way to find out, I suppose,” the priestess responded. Argus couldn’t determine if she was truly unafraid of venturing onward or if she was simply putting up a front to appear brave; either way, she boldly took a step past her apprehensive companion and down into the mysterious passage. Argus glanced right and left quickly, as if searching for some kind of ambush sneaking up on them from behind, then took a deep breath in and began to climb down the steps after the golden form in front of him.

  It seemed that the staircase continued on forever, burrowing deeper and deeper into the earth. Every twenty steps or so, a torch had been hung on the wall to illuminate the tunnel, but the eerie sensation of descending into the depths of the underworld itself still overwhelmed Argus. He would have very much appreciated running out of there right at that moment, but he also knew they still had a duty to perform, and he owed at least that much to Bennu for saving his life.

  When they finally reached the bottom, they came to a short hallway opening up into a perfectly square room cut into the earth around them. In here, all manner of gilded objects were placed as decorative items around a central altar. Statuettes of animals and people, goblets, masks, furniture, and weapons all adorned the ceremonial space. On either side of the back wall, two doors had been chiseled out, and Argus could only assume that these led to yet other chambers. And, in the middle of it all, there stood a very tall man wearing a great golden headdress and holding a curved hook for a staff. His upper body was covered by two crossed lengths of white fabric, and his legs were hidden from view under a long priest’s gown. His face was very serious, yet at the same time held a softness behind it that was almost comforting.

  “Welcome to the inner sanctum of the Osireion, Great Guardian Argus and High Priestess Dareia,” the man said in a deep, booming voice. He spoke Latin surprisingly fluently, given his position at the temple in Egypt. “My name is Nakhti, High Priest of Osiris. I believe you have something to deliver
to me.”

  “How do you know our names?” Dareia inquired once again of the high priest before her, holding the bracer off to the side, farther away from his grasp.

  “I told him you would be coming!” said a higher-pitched voice from the shadowy doorway to their right. Stepping out into the light, Bennu stood there with arms crossed over his chest and a big, smug smile on his face. “And you did not disappoint!”

  “Bennu!?” cried out Argus in joy and surprise. “But how? You died! I saw you die!”

  “Ha!” exclaimed the boy. “You are not the only one with special talents, big guy! You thought a loyal servant of Anubis would die and just stay dead? No! I simply reappear here every time in the fires of the sacred temple.”

  “I should have known it was too good to be true…,” Dareia said dryly.

  Bennu laughed again. “Awwwww, you know you missed me, kitten!” he jested, throwing his arms open before him. “Now, how about a big, welcome-back kiss?”

  Dareia snarled menacingly, indicating that getting anywhere close to her mouth would likely result in the boy’s death once again.

  “Alright,” Bennu said lightly with a shrug. “How about you, big guy?”

  “I think that I will pass, thanks,” Argus said with a chuckle.

  Bennu lowered his arms disappointedly. “Wow, you Greeks really do not live up to your reputation…,” he said.

  “Bennu…,” Nakhti chided sternly.

  “Yes, High Priest,” Bennu responded, taking a step back against the wall and holding his arms behind him submissively.

  The high priest turned back toward his guests. “As I had said: I believe you have something for me?”

  Dareia held firmly onto the wrapped armband as she stepped forward. “This bracer holds within it great power,” she cautioned. “Power with a corrupting influence that many men would be unable to resist. What guarantee do I have that you do not intend to use this tool for your own purposes, as Ini-herit has done?”

  Nakhti shook his head slowly. “I can provide you no guarantee,” he said. “In fact, it is very likely that I, too, might find myself in such overwhelming temptation that I would be unable to resist its allure. The power of the gods may often be too much for mortals to responsibly bear. You are right to show the utmost caution in this regard.”

  Dareia narrowed her eyes in scrutiny at the man before her for a moment, then unflinchingly held out the bracer in offering. “I shall always trust a man who understands his limitations,” she said. Nakhti bowed his head in thanks and received the bundle in both hands.

  “I most humbly accept your gracious return of our temple’s property,” Nakhti stated. He then turned and held out the bracer to Bennu. “Bennu, see to it that this is dealt with as I have instructed.”

  “Yes, High Priest,” the boy said with a nod. He took the bracer and hurried away into the darkness of the back room from which he had come.

  “Now,” the high priest said, motioning with his arm toward the other rear door, “the two of you must be hungry after your many days of travel. Come, we have prepared a meal for you.”

  Argus’ stomach had, indeed, been growling without end for hours. He thanked the gods that he would finally be justly rewarded for all his efforts.

  * * *

  After almost an hour of eating, the time had arrived for Dareia and Argus to head out again. Much to Argus’ displeasure, they would not have the chance to head home and rest; Dareia insisted that they must continue on with their initial intention to travel to Britannia. Before they left, the two companions stood in the temple antechamber again, saying their farewells to Nakhti and Bennu.

  “I will miss you both so much!” Bennu exclaimed, wrapping his arms around Argus’ waist before the man even knew what was happening. The boy then looked up at him. “Promise you will write?”

  “Bennu…,” Nakhti cut in seriously. “I believe you have something to give to our guests….”

  The boy’s eyes grew wide, as if some revelation had suddenly dawned on him. “Oh!” he cried, letting go of Argus and running into the door on the right. In a moment, he was back again, followed by two large men in long robes. They carried between them a sarcophagus about the size of a man. As they set it upright before their guests, Argus could see that the head was that of the god Anubis, with a long, black snout and straight, pointed ears. The rest of the case was ornate and colorful, with designs etched in red, yellow, blue, black, and gold. What stood out most, however, was a circular seal on the chest of the case which bore the image of a sun partially eclipsed by the full moon.

  “I know you shall not immediately return to your temple in Greece, and traveling with this would be quite cumbersome,” the high priest said. “I shall arrange for it to be sent to your temple to await your return.”

  “It is quite a beautiful gift. Thank you, High Priest Nakhti,” Dareia said graciously with a slight bow of her torso. She then delicately ran her hand over the cold, hard surface of her new possession. “I feel compelled to ask, however: what – or who – is contained within?”

  “I regret that I am not able to disclose such things at this time,” Nakhti said with a shake of his head. “This sarcophagus shall only be opened upon the fulfillment of The Great Prophecy. At that time, the contents shall serve to aid and protect you and your allies.”

  “What prophecy?” Argus asked, though Dareia had seemed to silently comprehend.

  Nakhti’s deep voice began to speak in Lí’ísedón:

  “Man semahín yán súfámahín nú kí’ísúnásh

  Yá’án sóman yán lóman yán lósóman nú mayínásh bín náy fítón

  Kamímahín setónásh

  Batón gír dó’óryín yán mí’ílenór tón kakíharop

  Yá’án gír ózór letóns tón míbasúnop.

  Harfán tófán dón mótómín han

  Hínkúhír fártónásh

  Yá’án harfán dófáyín gíyáns han

  Ózór dón dóyímír

  Dó’óyínásh yemín.”

  Argus stood there, blinking stupidly in utterly failed comprehension.

  Dareia sighed. “It is an ancient prophecy spoken by a great seer before recorded history. It speaks of a time of great turmoil, universal upheaval, and future salvation. Though I do not fully speak the Language of the Gods, I am familiar with its translation:

  When divine being and human unite

  And sun, moon, and star are as one,

  A savior shall arise

  To dispel ignorance and the defilements

  And redeem the fallen.

  Through an act of perfect giving,

  The cycle of suffering shall end,

  And, through great revelation,

  Those with wrong understanding

  Shall know peace.”

  “But…, what does that mean?” Argus asked the priestess.

  Dareia dismissively flicked her hand through the air. “Prophecies are naught but fragile riddles, the likes of which may be altered or rendered entirely irrelevant with even the slightest deviation from the natural progression of events. The actions of beings shape their own destinies within the flow of time, like rowing a boat through a river, and where one ends up primarily depends on decisions that are made. Though some have taken these words to be a factual, unalterable foretelling of future events, I prefer to rely on what is happening now and trust that my future shall be what it is meant to be.”

  Nakhti looked at the two of them. “Yet, one should remember that, while you row within the waters, the river itself cannot be altered,” he said knowingly. “The Prophecy that has been spoken shall come to pass, in some way or another. One day. At that time, the sarcophagus shall open, and its contents shall be revealed to you.”

  Dareia bowed once more. “As you wish, High Priest Nakhti,” she said, trying to mask the displeasure of her unsatisfied curiosity. “Thank you so much for your hospitality.”

  “Travel safely, my friends,” Nakhti said, raising one hand wit
h the palm facing the travelers. “May the Great God Osiris watch over your journeys.”

  “So long!” Bennu shouted behind him, waving one hand at them frantically. “I hope that we will meet again soon!”

  Argus waved back with a smile. He sincerely hoped that they would cross paths with the boy again at some point. It had been so long since he had had true friends; he had almost begun to forget how great that felt.

  With this parting thought, Argus and Dareia set off to shape their destinies and the fate of all beings.