Dawn to Dust

The world was different. The old-ones had abandoned the outside world, for glass domed cities. The ones left behind had no choice but to change. They grew accustom to the ever-changing world. Father calls us NeoSapien since our kind was born after the change. Our bodies still looked human. But we were different. We were better. Our senses were heightened, our lungs didn’t burn because of the air. Neither did our skin. Since the clouds are constantly swirling around the sun the uv rays became stronger.

       I didn’t talk much, not because I didn’t know how, but because there was nothing important enough to talk about. My father was our head general.

        I usually went with my father to the field to scout out the land for anything new. By this time, I was around the age of 6 or 7.

        Everything seemed normal that day. I heard something coming from the dirt path near the mountain. Holding on to my father's neck we hid in the tree line. I peeked my head out just enough to see, it was two men with a horse carrying a rickety old cart. The cart was covered by a think velvet blanket. I could sense there was something special inside. As if on instinct alone, I hoped down and darted in front of the cart. The horse reared but stopped once I started crying. One of the men came off the cart and began to walk over to me. Once he got close, he looked around to see if there was anyone else around.

     “My dear child, where did you come from?” he asked in a soft clear voice. He held out a piece of cloth and told me to dry my tears. I looked at him cautiously, was this a test? Now that he was closer, I could tell that he had seen many things in his life. He had eyes of a deep evergreen, with skin that showed no pigment and hair as white as mountain tops. Though he had a mask covering the bottom half of his face, his voice came through clearly. “Go on, take it,” he said. “If you’re a good little girl, I may let you have a gift from my cart. At that the second man, a younger man with icy blue eyes and sun-kissed skin, shouted from the cart, his voice sullen and raspy through his mask “Professor Roosevelt, that would be ill advised, she’s just a child.” He seemed irritated at the thought of it. What was in the cart anyway?

  “Nonsense, she's a child, yes, but that means nothing. If she chooses wisely who knows.” The old man stood up taller now. “Now are you going to stop crying young lady?” he asked with a grin.

       I wiped the cloth across my face. It smelled of mint leaves and honey. I shook my head in agreement. Seeming like it was okay I looked toward the tree where my father was. Almost immediately he jogged out to me. He took to the scene rather quickly “There you are Sekhmet. I was worried I would never find you.” He quickly kneeled to me as my arms rose up to meet his face.

       “Sekhmet? What a befitting name. Your daughter is very brave for running in front of my horse.” The old man said to my father.

      “Thank you for your kindness sir. But I have none to repay you with.”

     “Nonsense,” chuckled the old man waving his hand “I was the one who promised a gift to your daughter.” He smiled as he turned toward the cart “Please, follow me.” He led us around to the back of the cart. The younger man keeping his icy blue eyes on us the whole time. “Martin, would you please stop eyeing these people like they’re criminals!” the old man said firmly. He stopped and turned towards us, “Now, before I show you what is under here, I must warn you young lady, choose wisely. Do not be tempted by anything else in the cart.” It may have been a warning, but he had now sparked my curiosity. My father may have picked up on it as well, his face has become dark with determination.

      The man, smiling grabs the blanket and yanks it backwards revealing a cart full of giant golden slabs. Each one containing indentations on them some turned at awkward angles. There was another chest in the back of the cart which appeared to be extremely heavy. My eyes hover over each slab carefully before landing on one in particular. This one was covered with leather panels, it was similar in size to the others but it seemed to be by itself. It appeared to have more than one slab attached to it. I feel myself being pulled to it as if by some form of twisted energy.

       Before I know it, I’ve fallen onto the cart. “My goodness are you alright?” asked the old man. I sit upright and look for the slab again. The closer I get to it the louder it seems to be, some sort of rhythm in my ears, a rumbling. The slab begins to shine as I reach for it. Before I can grab it, Martin snatches it right from above me. “Don’t you dare touch nothing in this here cart!” he yells. “Professor I don’t trust them. They don’t know what these are, how valuable they are.”

“Martin, I thought I told you not to treat these people like criminals!” the Professor begins to walk angrily towards the younger man swinging his finger rapidly, “now you hand that over right now, I made a promise to this young lady, and it’s a promise I shall keep.” He’s huffing now, holding out his hand he says, “now give me the book.”

Martin reluctant, hands the professor the book.  The professor then waddles back over to us. By this time, I can already tell my father has given it thought and has moved his men into place.

Roosevelt places the book into my hands. Upon receiving the book, I notice that there are some parts of the first slab turned the wrong way, I flip the first one over to reveal what looked to be a sun. Set into place the piece began to shake. Such an ominous presence. The professor was in awe, he chuckled gleefully. “My dear child, I believe that book has picked you, and not the other way around.” He laughed, picking me up and putting me on the ground.

He sashayed back towards Martin. “Martin, I believe we should be off, our tanks are getting low. And we are still some ways from the city.” With that, the professor jumped into the cart and waved goodbye. “Good luck with your discoveries my dear Sekhmet.” he turned towards the horizon.

About 2 meters out an arrow went straight through Martin’s neck into the leg of the horse. The horse bounds and falls from the pain sending the cart crashing into the ground. The professor tumbled out landing on his face and rolled towards the cliff. Martin's body lay limp on the ground near the horse, the arrow sticking out dripping blood. The last twitches of life sending his limbs into mini frenzies.

My father’s face had darkened as he puts me down. The trees come to life as the rest of the hunting party comes towards the cart. Each one collecting a piece of the gold from the cart. My father began giving orders to recover every piece and to strip the cart of any useful materials.

Walking over the now injured and crawling professor, upon closer inspecting, his leg was set at an awkward angle. Jagged pieces of bone protruded from his skin. He stopped as I stood over him. At the time I couldn’t understand that this is what humans saw as murder.  He looked up at me with agony filled eyes. His face asking me why, he says “Please, I didn’t mean to hurt anyone. I just thought giving you the book would be enough...the other tribes left us alone” he screeched as a barrage of arrows find their way into his back. Blood flew from his mouth “please listen...the book that you choose...” he’s struggling against the blood, choking on his words “it’s very important that you do not flip the last panel...there is a reason it is unturned.... please...” blood splatted across my face as another arrow found its way through his eye.

Curious, I turned to the other slab. This one had a more darkened look to it. Still, the gold glistened in the light. This slab had two pieces that were turned sideways. I turned one piece slowly, this time it showed a moon blade with a swiveled line under it. The last piece seemed stickier. Still turning it, there was a crook and flail underneath an Ankh.

Suddenly the sun shined brighter, the gold seemed to sing as the sun hit it. A ring of light flashed around us. The air seemed frigid for a moment, as all the hunters stopped. The wind flung the dead leaves into the air and everything seemed to go dark. Bodies thudded to the floor one after the other, soon everything was quiet.

     ********    ********

We woke up one by one. My body ached as I got up. Looking around the light made my head spin as my eyes adjusted. The trees seemed to emit a darker aura. Getting up my body felt as heavy as lead. I look around to find my father and the rest of the hunters getting up and groaning. I began to move towards him, just as my foot brushes the book. I pick it up and suddenly realize that my arm seems slightly longer than before, and somewhat darker. Looking at the rest of my body, I realize I’m taller.  

“Sekhmet!” I spun around to see my father. He’s standing on wobbly legs. “Sekhmet, where are you?!” he was panicking.

I wanted to open my mouth to call out to him. But I haven't heard my own voice in years. “Baba! I am here!” my voice was breaking, and I realized I was crying. “Baba!” I run towards him. He turns towards me, his eyes somewhat closed.

“Sekhmet? Is that you?” he holds out his arms to embrace me. His hands find their way across my cheeks and are covered instantly by my tears. He opens his eyes to look at me, “My child, are you crying?” his eyes have changed. Before they were of a deep amber, but now they burn with a bright green rim surrounding the gold coming from the center. “Sekhmet? What has happened to your eyes? Your skin...it’s darker.”

I can see the reflection in his eyes, my face still looks the same but it’s somehow different. My eyes glowed gold, expanding into a searing crimson. I can feel the hot tears rushing from my eyes. I can feel my lips begin to tremble from the fear in my chest. ‘What have I done?’ My heart is thumping so loud, I feel like he can hear it. I can’t breathe, gasping for breath as I try to speak my father runs his hands over my face and through my hair. He pulls me into him, squeezing me to his chest, “Do not fret. We are still alive, you have made no mistake. There is no need for your fear.” The sound of my father’s voice, strong and unwavering, calmed my rage and fear.

We hear the groans of the hunting party and proceed to assist them and regroup. As we collect ourselves, I hear a bird chirping in my ear. I turn but there is no bird on my shoulder, I turn again towards the sound, realizing that the bird is in a tree, I study it. It’s a small bird, its body is covered with beautiful greens and blues. The top of its head is white with a faint ring of golden yellow around its neck and beak. It’s dark eyes fix on me as it ruffles its feathers. It’s almost as if it’s trying to talk to me. Suddenly I feel a weight on my shoulder and flinch. I turn to see my father with a puzzled look on his face.

“Sekhmet, what are you looking at?” he seems slightly amused.

I point to the bird in the tree, “The pretty bird.” He turns to where I am pointing and his eyes widen.

“That bird is over 10 meters away and at most 5 meters high, how are you able to see it? How am I able to see it?!” he turns his hands over and over again as if he had never seen them before. He turns towards me grinning from ear to ear, “Ha!” he scoops me up “Sekhmet, this is wonderful! You have given us a great gift,” he squeezes me and turns towards the party. “Brothers, Sekhmet has given us a bounty of the gods!” he moves me to his shoulders. I feel myself laughing, father hasn’t been this joyous since my brother Anubis was born.

The party cheered happily. But little did we know that this sudden blessing would soon turn to a curse before our very eyes.