In the aftermath of nine devastating plagues that ravaged ancient Egypt, a high priestess desperately seeks to prevent the impending tenth plague. Still, her efforts fail, leaving her at the mercy of an enraged pharaoh. Meanwhile, the pharaoh's son...
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Ramesses drove the horses like a madman.
"Do not be ashamed of your fear—it is a natural response in the face of one so violent..."
Addisu shut her eyes and gripped the lip of the speeding chariot. The harsh desert wind battered her face and whipped at her dress.
"In the storm of your fear, choose to believe..."
Addisu sighed at the memory of the last words the spirit said to her when the guards came to take her away. She had wrongly assumed she had lost her fear of death, but that was untrue. At the sight of the guards, a paralysing terror engulfed her at the fate awaiting her.
"Why are you concerned about my well-being?" Addisu had asked the father early that morning.
"Because it's our nature to do so."
Addisu remembered snorting. "I find that hard to believe. Why are you here? Who are you? What do you want from me? This doesn't make sense. I want to understand, make me understand."
The word walked over and settled by her side. He smelled of chamomile and mint, and he didn't seem bothered by the dirt floor or the filthy state she was in. It seemed his clean presence was infecting her instead of the other way around.
"Mankind plagues their existence with questions they'll never get a complete answer to," the word said in a solemn voice.
"They look to the sky and wonder who put it together," the father added from where he stood close to the bars of the cell. "They have this need— this need to worship something... anything,"
"If we try to make you understand through what we say alone, you'll only get more confused. So, the question about who we are..." The spirit tapped his chin thoughtfully and then smiled. "We would leave that to you. You are free to have your convictions—something you choose to believe and not what's forced on you by us. We show love by giving the freedom of choice."
Addisu nodded as the weight of the need to understand everything began to slip off her back.
"Imagine if we came to you with the appearance of old men with harsh faces and sweeping beards. If we had come with a severe air and a forceful nature that scared you, how would you have reacted?"
She had thought for a while. "I would have accepted you because I'll be scared of what you'll do to me if I do not. But some would rebel."
"Would you have been our friend? Would you have liked our refreshing company?" The father grinned as he wove his fingers behind his head and leaned against a wall.
Chuckling, Addisu shook her head. "Whoever wants to be friends with harsh old men? I like your company. You've all been so good to me."
"Do you see that?" The word had asked as he smiled her way.
"See what?"
The spirit buried his hands in the pockets of his robe and rocked on his heels. "Your gratitude. When thanks come easily and not from compulsion or a sense of duty, we like it."
