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The Life of the Un-aging.
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This story goes back many years. It started in Ancient Egypt, in the early Dynastic period, when Hotepsekhemwy was the King.
"Isis!" called Senbi, she was getting worried I could hear it in her voice, always with that harsh husky tone. I was supposed to be getting ready for the party of Amunet, but instead I was hiding behind our statue of Nun (who my mother said was the creator of chaos and so was needed to be kept happy). Senbi was my maid; well that's her title, she was really my friend for I had none of my own age.
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To understand my story you need to know my history.
My name was Isis and I was 15 years old. I was descended from a long line of perfumers who, it was believed had an affinity with the gods. If the gods wanted to do something, my family were the chosen ones. My father was the royal perfumer and because of our family name we were classed among royalty. Being royal was not fun at all. There were always things to do, work, tutors, dance, fighting, hair. Being a woman was even worse; we had more pressure than the men and were never taken seriously.
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"Isis there you are. Have you not heard me calling, and calling? No well your father is going to have me strung up if you are not ready" said an exasperated and slightly out of breath Senbi, interrupting my favourite daydream in which Tor (meaning king) the pharaohs son whisked me away and made me his wife so I could bear his children.
Up until the day before my 16th birthday I was mostly happy.
My parents wanted nothing more than to have a child but unfortunately they never received one, they prayed to Isis god of fertility and hoped and hoped she would give them a child- even a daughter would have been enough for them. The goddess never answered their prayers so they looked for other means of gaining a daughter, they called upon Anubis god of Death who gave them what they wanted but said that a terrible curse would come about when the child turned 16.
For years I lived happily, but as my 16th birthday loomed I noticed my parents would not look me in the eyes, I overheard them discussing ways of killing me and I got frightened. They were planning to leave it until midnight the day before my birthday hoping that nothing would change. But of course it all changed, my eyes grew red and so my parents, both together stabbed my in the heart.
And so I died.
The devil welcomed me with open arms and told me all about what my parents had done in their desperation. They had convinced him to give them his child, one who was perfect in every way, beautiful, intelligent, and once 16 immortal. Time in Hell or as I like to call it home, worked in different ways, I could go to any time period after my death, but if I remained on Earth for longer than 30 days at a time I would never be able to return Home for more than a day at a time. I chose to go to the 8th Century B.C.
