Author Games: The River of Night

Task One: Of the Underworld

Anka Tahirah

The world was ending.

They had tried everything – an unblemished bull had been sacrificed by the priests and priestesses of Ra at Iunu, but to no avail. Many hymns have been sung and prayers been said, but the gods had no obligation to listen to the feeble cries of men, and had not granted an answer. The sky remained the same shade of ebony-black as it had been in the previous evening – if one would tilt up their head, they would see that even the silvery glow of the moon had been covered by wisps of floating gray clouds.

She stood on the steps of the Great Temple of Osiris, staring out into the darkness, unseeing and unbelieving. Yesterday, and all the days before that, Ra had granted them sunlight. Today, and perhaps for all the days to follow – however little that may be – Ra had taken their sunshine away. A cold breeze nipped at her skin, despite it being in the middle of Proyet, the month of sun, rain and growth. If this continued to be, if Ra continued to never bring back daylight, she knew what would happen. She was no scribe or scholar, but she was wise enough to know – they would perish, all of them. They would starve from the lack of food, or freeze in the darkness. The latter would most likely come first.

Inside the temple, she heard the faint incantations of her fellow priests and priestesses, conducting a sacrifice of wheat and barley to Osiris. It had gotten to the point where everyone was praying to not just Ra, but to any of the other gods who may help them in their time of need. News had been pouring in from far and wide, pleading for the people to plea to the gods, any god, for deliverance. All over Egypt, she heard, there was not one sliver of light, and even the stars had ceased to shine. All over Egypt, there was a great wailing and weeping and terror, just as there was in the city where she resided. In fact, that was what she had been awakened by. Screams. Cries. The stench of fear was strong in the air, and suddenly, Anka Tahirah felt her knees weaken, and promptly leaned upon a marble pillar next to her for balance.

She focused on her breathing, closing her eyes, then opening them after a few steadied breaths – not that it made any difference. Swallowing down a lump in her throat, she readjusted her linen headscarf, brushing away a stray strand of dark brown hair as she did so. Her head swam, and her heart was thrumming hard against her chest. "The world is ending," she whispered so softly that she herself could barely hear it. "The world is ending, and the gods have left us."

The words made her throat clench with fear, and her breathing escalated once more. From behind her icy blue irises, she felt heated tears burn, and swiftly blinked them back. Priestesses did not weep like common women. Priestesses did not panic or waver in their faith. They were the chosen ones – they of all people should not doubt nor question the gods' will. Whatever the gods did or said, so may it be.

So may it be.

"So may it be," she whispered again, and this time, sucked in a deeper breath than before. Don't panic, don't panic. The two words bounced off the walls of her skull, a never-ending mantra to provoke calmness and tranquility, and slowly but surely, Anka felt her rapid heartbeat slow, and her breathing pattern also. She dropped her hands down to hang limply by her sides, and turned around to head back into the temple, until her eyes connected with those of another, standing directly behind her.

In was difficult to distinguish exactly who the figure was in the shadowy gloom, but she needn't have worried, for the man introduced himself. "Anka," his voice was deep with a sandy edge, and there was no need for him to say anything more – Anka already recognized him. "It is I, Saho Pnaaku."

"I know," her voice was unusually soft, and she tried again, this time replying with more strength and conviction. "I know," she stated, and this time, her voice came across loud and clear. He was the High Priest of Osiris, and mostly kept to himself – she had not spoken to him in what felt like eternity, and although she knew it was considered rude, couldn't contain her curiosity and questioned, "Why are you here?"