The Beginning/The First Life

The sands rise and fall as does the sea, though time is the deciding factor in the desert "tide"...

For three cycles of Ra disaster has plagued the construction... Our city, so vibrant and rich in life as it is in death, needs a wall... The barbarians of the sand fly the banner of Apophis now, claiming he hath given them the power to defeat all that stand in their way... They asked we join them, that I throw down my arms to worship the darkness alongside them... That will not do. I will not join the very beast that threatens me, threatens my children, and above all, threatens Osiris Himself.

Our only hope is this wall, this cursed wall. My architects tell me that the sands shift under the construction, as if some giant cobra slumbers beneath our wondrous city. They tell me that a wall cannot be built, and that I waste lives in continuing to try.   Perhaps they are right. Perhaps it is time for me to watch all that my fathers have brought once again return to the sands that birthed them. No. I will not let this city be torn to dust! I will not let the blood of my people stain the sands for all of time, as a testament of Apophis' will!

The destroyer will not take me. I am serene. I am calm, yet within I roll as the sands do, waiting, biding my time to rise up and bury the enemy in the name of Ra. Light will continue to shine within the heart of this city... And so I let the days pass, not ready to fail. 

I find myself at the wall for days at a time, aiding in the building of it. It would not be right to allow the peasants the risks while I sit upon my throne growing fat. There are stones to be moved, stones with which I atone for my sins with every great push.

The sands do not move so much anymore. My architects tell me the foundation is good, they tell me that we will succeed before the coming of the darkness. Oh, how I loathe the darkness, the way he rolls across the horizon, bringing fear, pain and death with him...

I am awoken, washing the slumber from my eyes as my servants bring my sword to me. My feet are washed, and my war sandals strapped upon them. Apophis has come, before we could finish our wall, before we could plan for adequate defense. I find myself questioning any fear I once held of death, I feel a strange glow within me.
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written by Curt