In the vast reaches of this place we call earth, comes a story of great magnitude. This tale has been withheld from human knowledge for millennia. Today, that changes...
Memphis, Egypt 2611 BC
Dark, yet clear skies displayed a glorious spectacle each night for the ancient city dwellers. Pinholes of light twinkled throughout the boundless depths of panoramic views; they held the same position year after year. This was long before the term Astronomer was assigned to categorize a branch of science. The observers were left to their own theories as to what the lights actually were.
When you stare at the heavens long enough, night after night, for no better reason than to just gaze, you open yourself to the possibility of catching sight of one these lights hurdling toward the earth. We know them as meteorites. The ancient people called them achulume or light weavers.
Menes, a strong, healthy young man was one of these gazers. He had the privilege of seeing many of these falling stars streak across the heavens. His luck led to a close encounter, one that would change the physics of this life-bearing planet forever...
On the night of this particular chance, the dark sky was brilliant and teeming with stars. The hazy Milky Way was remarkably dominant. Menes began tracking the movement of a bright object. It was slowly descending. He jumped to his feet and continued focusing on the illuminated dot. It soon ignited an orange fiery trail. Within seconds it grew in size. It was coming toward him at breakneck speed. The sight and sound of it racing overhead was like no other thing he had ever witnessed in his entire life.
The fireball slammed into the sand just a half mile away from where he stood. Menes began running toward it. He was finally going to see one of these 'light weavers' for himself. He barely made it a hundred feet before the ensuing shock wave knocked him to the ground. It was followed by a dust storm that lasted several minutes. After it cleared, he briskly walked toward it.
The impact crater was fifty yards wide and tilted. Apprehensive, yet intrigued, he walked even closer. A few others from his small village had shown up but were not as brave as Menes. They watched him trek down the long groove carved in the sand by the object before it’s solid collision with the Earth. Smoke clouded the region of interest but did not mask the red and orange hues glowing through it. The sound of breaking glass bemused Menes. He didn’t know at the time it was from the super-heated rock cooling down. Is this a God I’m approaching? he wondered.
Several gusts of wind aided in clearing the dissipating smoke. He walked closer and closer to the immobile space intruder. It was the size of a full-grown bull elephant.
Within fifty feet of it, his joints began to ache. Menes could feel every last one of them as if they were trying to separate. This did not stop his curious nature from continuing to move forward. He then saw the already cracked rock fall apart to reveal a neon blue core. The light overwhelmed his eyes, temporarily blinding him. He looked away until the radiated glare faded from his retina. When he gazed at it again, the blue light was less intense, more tolerable. He shielded his direct vision of it with his left arm as he walked several more feet inward, perhaps a foot or two too close. His feet began to glide across the sand, barely touching it. He panicked and turned around to run but the object’s attractive force pulled him ever so close. Menes dug his fingers into the sand; a pointless effort as there is nothing to grab hold of and the sand just filtered through his fingers. He began calling for help but no one could hear his words. The light devoured the sounds coming out of his mouth. He could feel the vibration of his own voice bend backwards across his face toward the light. Nothing could help him, he was doomed...
A half day later, Menes awoke to the sight of villagers throwing buckets of water at him in a revival attempt. He could see the water coming directly at him but splatter in all directions before it reached him, like an invisible wall was between him and the water.
Realizing he was still alive he quickly rose to his feet. Several onlookers were frightened by his sudden movement and fell to the sand. His sister, Phemonte ran toward him but was repelled ten feet into the air when she got too close. Menes ran to help her but pushed her further away when he got too close. He looked at his arms, they were colored blue. His entire body was a distinct shade of cobalt.
His sister was slow to get up. He wanted to help but stopped himself. He began to feel his mutation. It seemed like whenever he got close to someone, he could feel their lifeblood pressing against his own body without ever touching them. What happened to me? he wondered. The last thing he remembered was the blue light. He turned to look at the rock, the light was gone, all that remained was occasional smoke drifting up from within its brittle layers. The villagers stayed out of his way. No one understood what he had become.
Wizardry and magic were unknown to many of the primitive inhabitants of Memphis. Their lack of understanding became a fear. They wanted nothing to do with the man who couldn't touch anything without leaving scars or damage.
Menes felt distraught and rejected. He left Memphis in search of a cure. There was none... The object transferred its dying power to the nearest host before blinking out of existence.
He journeyed southward and made it to a land now called Tanzania. At sunset, he beheld the mountain behemoth, Kilimanjaro in the distance. He felt an unreal attraction to the area, one that surpassed his cognitive limitations.
By this time, he had learned some of the superhuman benefits of the mutation. Whenever he ran, energy would build on the soles of his feet, creating an anti-friction layer between them and any surface. This allowed him to glide across the landscape effortlessly. He was able to ride this wave of momentum for miles before the energy needed recharging. Within twenty minutes of gliding, Mt Kilimanjaro was upon him in all its mighty glory. His joints began to ache. Without warning, his body lifted in the air and began to climb the mountain, staying close to it. The outline of his shadow, created by the full moon was neon blue; it surged with him up the foothills. Menes knew that he had found the cure he was looking for... the mountain was calling his name.
Minutes later, he reached the top. He hovered high above the main vent, peering down into the dark void of the sleeping giant. This once dormant mountain quickly began showing signs of activity. A reddish, orange glare pierced the night sky over him and the volcano. Menes outstretched his arms and prayed. The magma began to bubble and rise to the edge of the rim until it spilled over. Menes looked to the stars one last time and simply let go of his fears. He fell several hundred feet into the center of the red-hot lava and was consumed. Soon after, the volcano exploded in an intense rain of fire...
Menes was absorbed in the heart of Kilimanjaro - the planet's hub of volcanic networks. His essence was quickly integrated with the Earth, creating magnetism by giving certain rocks and metals the properties in which they have today. His brave feat also enhanced the Earth's magnetic field, resulting in an increased rotation of the planet. This required an extra day to be added to the calendar for every four revolutions around the sun. We call it leap year. We owe our very existence to his sacrifice... For without his action, the Earth would have eventually slowed to a halt, making half the world uninhabitable.
Menes, God of Magnetism, I anoint thee. Now, you and your amazing story will claim its rightful place in history forever.
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About the Creator
Creative writer in the Northeast US who loves the paranormal, mystery, true crime, horror, humor, fantasy and poetry. Take a chance, you'll be thoroughly entertained.
"Life is Love Experienced" -LW
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