Alexandria's Genesis

                             

PROLOGUE

The Purge of Egypt

69 BC

Priestess Aria

            The night sky is peaceful. The chilly dessert breeze wafts lazily through the stone structure of the palace balcony. The eastern sky blazes proudly, almost as bright as the cresent moon. This night is peaceful, but it is the peace that comes before a storm. I hold my child to my bosom, waiting. Waiting for death to fall. Waiting for destruction to bombard the silence.

            Fear eats away at me, the fear that startled me awake, clinging to my swolen stomach. “I fear for this child, Isis.” I whisper. “I fear the destruction she will bring upon herself and her people.”

            Since then, a great stillness has fallen apon Egypt. I know Balbinus’ soldiers will soon approach and strike in attempt to eradicate the Star Child. My child. But inevitably, they will fail. I look down at the sleeping babe in my arms, then up at the ebony sky, glistening with throbing stars. “Thank you, Spirits, for the protection you offer my daughter this night.” I am overwhelmed by the Sight. I see a dozen men riding on horseback. The trampling of their hoves throws me out of my vision and into a flustered state of flight.

            I run down the stairs, periodically stopping to kiss the marble figures on the wall. I run blindly, silently, through the rows of sleeping priestesses, thankful that the child is asleep. Through the temple of Hathor I run, breathless, from an enemy that would never find me, past the shrine of Nuit, to the bank of the Nile.

            Fabian stands, facing the decimated congregation of Spirit People. He spins around on his heel, his gaze fixing immediately on me. His expression is a concoction of surprise, guilt and pain. I know what he is planning to do, but I ask regardless.

            “You’re leaving?” His eyes drop, but I can still see them, a breathtaking shade of hazel with the tell-tale violet flecks of the Spirit People, whose eyes were originally the color of amethysts, like my daughter’s will soon be, but over the years  have evolved for the sake of their survival. They were supposed to be extinct, after all. Souls shattered into oblivion by Balbinus and his men.

            “Why.” I ask when he doesn’t reply. “Why now, when she needs you the most.”

            “It is not safe for us here, anymore. We’ll move north, probably Lybia or Moroco…” he looks at me again. My breathing begins to slow when he asks, “Who knows about…” he jerks his chin at the bundle of gold cloth in my arms. “her.” He finally mutters. I sigh.

            “Just Pharaoh and the royals. Subjects know she exists…her star blazes, but they do not know she is mine.” I stare at him meaningfully. 

            “Who is the father?” our crypted gazes are not broken. “All children born of the Kahseem are heirs of the Pharaoh.” I offer.

            “Why do you leave so soon? You could stay…” I refuse to beg, but we both know my request is practically an equivilant to falling to my knees and bathing his feet in my tears. A Spirit girl, Emma, was her name, steps forward abruptly.

            “She will bring us nothing but death. Listen!” I hear wailing voices of women and the barbaric commands of roman soldiers in the distance. “Listen to all the destruction. All the death you allow them to bring apon your people. You watch Egypt’s rape, the purging of it’s daughters.” She gives a humourless chuckle. “All but one. The one little Star Child who refuses to die. Her eyes hardly open to the world, and look at all the trouble she has caused. The further we are away from her, the safer we all will be. Her gift is nothing but a-”

            “Emma.” Fabian says firmly. Rage is obvious in his tone. His voice is strained and tight, a tone he often uses with Pharaoh. “Hold your tongue.” She retreats, once again, behind him to join the ranks of the others. I hold her gaze still, until she is forced to look away, proving my dignity is still intact. A High Priestess is above quarreling with a child. I have reasons for doing what I did, I did not have to justify my actions. 

            My eyes return to Fabian. He glances at the child with a distant, reserved sort of longing. “What have you named her?”

            “Zina.” I say proudly. The edges of his mouth tilt up into an almost reminiscent smile.

            “Zina,” he echos. “Secret spirit. Beautiful.” His smile fades. “I will miss you, Aria.” His use of my name has me taken aback, but I say nothing.

            “You will be in my thoughts, Fabian.” And it is the truth.  He turns and the Gifted part, then turn. He makes his way to the head of the group, and starts his journey to the dessert. But I cannot let him leave like this.

            “Fabian,” I almost shout. His head whips around, and I suddenly know what I will say. “Pharoh cannot compare...” The sentence is seemingly incomplete, but he knows the rest. He smiles wholeheartedly. “Isis has sculpted a beauty far greater than her own.” With this he disappears into the endless sea of sand.

            It is with the reality of his departure that the cries of women mourning over their murdered childen is magnified tenfold.

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Writer's Note: Hey guys!! PLEASE tell me what you think, comments are GREATLY appreciated, votes are nice too :) I promise to upload regualrly if i get a fair amount of feedback, any suggestions are welcomed and thanks for reading! oh before i forget, the description didn't come out right because it was too long, but i promise, when i have time i will fix it, please don't let it discourage you from reading the rest, once again, i thank you all for reading!!!