copyright (c) Ekwe Martin

The darkness didn’t bother him, bleak as it was, but the rain did. It had been raining and thundering in the high heavens for three days now. The lightening was so incessant as to simulate a bright day at some intervals. The rain gave a stark unhealthy quality to the atmosphere, and reeked of uncertainty.

Verily, he was uncertain about the near future.

The wind swept through the abietic trees, and wrapped around his naked form. Using his hands and the brightness of the lightening which streaked across the cloudy skies, he parted the branches of an overhanging balsam tree and went forward still. He couldn’t see the flashing sky of course, not through the multiple canopies of vegetation above him, but the flashes filtered down every now and then.

His breathing was only slightly laboured as he had been walking just three days from the outlying hills of Nod. His feet seemed permanently encased in the muddy soil, but he did not mind. He only had a mind, and eyes, for one thing.

Behind him, high atop the trees which surrounded him, a slithering form followed. Its eyes, as they reflected the flash of the lightening above, did not cease being crimson like the blood-red rubies that lined the white banks of the Pishon. The beast moved quickly and in inevitable silence, its ancient eyes on the straggling figure below. Soon, the chill gave way to distant warmth. It was time. The red orbs left the man for the first time in a long while.

The man slowed in front of a hedge. Slowly, as though with uncertainty, he reached out with a hand and parted the obstruction. He squinted in the blue light which lit up his face. His eyes adjusted quickly, and he made a detailed examination of the phenomena in front of him.

He was looking into a circular clearing about 500paces in diameter, a perfect circle, he surmised correctly. The centre of the lot was blurry, as though seen through a wall of still water, the way he examined the sun. The rippling blur was luminous too, though the man knew it wasn’t the blur which gave out the light. At the very centre of the clearing stood a large rock, and upon the face of the rock stood a small tree, unremarkable in every way except that its roots seemed to dig into the hard rock. It also had a very potent guard, the man reminded himself. The man was very aware of the presence of Gamukir, the flaming sword which had been stationed here. Gamukir revolved—at the speed of lightning. He wasn’t surprised as to how he suddenly knew this. The flaming weapon was revolving so swiftly around the tree that it had become invisible. The man concentrated, squinting painfully at the vision. His vision slowed, and he could see the glorious sword during a revolution. Its spiral filigreed hilt, two cubits tall, held a large emerald at the very centre. From the top of the hilt shot out a thin body of solid light, out of which blue flames roared. It was this which was responsible for the azure hue thrown on everything, and the welcome warmth.

Gamukir would allow nothing through to the tree and its hallowed trinitarian fruits.

A few cubits above the tree from whose lithe branches hung three blue fruits, a canopy of water had formed. Gamukir had refused even the tiniest droplets of rain ingress into its circle of movement- 50paces around the tree. As a result, the whole area within the purview of the sword was completely dry. The rain gathered above, and drifted down in a rush, as though racing down an invisible semi-circular shell.

The man had seen enough.

He closed his eyes, pulling on the reserves of his energy, and steeling himself for the task ahead. After a long time, feeling the rivulets of rain running down on his face, he exhaled and turned, looking above him at the darkness of the trees. Nothing was there. His escort was gone. He felt the stirring of a fear; a strange feeling, but one he was getting used to with each experience.

On the other side of the clearing from him, the beast slithered into view. The serpent was as wide as the man’s thigh, long as fifteen paces and moved with obvious  regality. The man allowed himself to admire the serpent for a moment. Welded to its head was a diadem on which were nested seven variegated jewels, dug up from the mountain of fire before the world was young. The blue glossy scales of the serpent caught the ambient blue light from the flaming sword, rendering it a vista of living brilliance.

The sword stopped suddenly, and faced the slowly approaching serpent. Two words emanated from empty air as the spirit of Gamukir spoke, “Be gone”. The sword stopped at about fifty paces from the tree. It could go no further, for it was too dangerous to be bestowed that concession in its original mandate.

The serpent hissed rebelliously, baring gilded jaws and adamantine fangs of melded onyx and diamond. The jewels around his flat skull suddenly flared brightly, adding a variegated splendour to ambient lighting in the the clearing. Gamukir spoke no more. The emerald at the hilt flared. Something like a liquid drop fell off it, and the area around the tree was suddenly alive with green flames. The serpent hissed disdainfully, and sprang forward, though not coming too near to the lethal guard. The fire died away as it approached, and Gamukir began to vibrate. The stones on the serpent reached out with separate rays of light, all seeking to fall on the sword, except they didn’t.

Gamukir reacted quickly. The emerald jewel shot a beam to counteract the will of the serpent. The serpent represented ancient evil, evil older than even the spirit of the sword. The sword focused its will, bent on driving the serpent into a paralysing stupor.

The two contenders were perfectly still now as though stuck in a moment of time, the man saw. The battle of the will instigated by the serpent was now in progress. The sword was not made for this, and it would hamper its response time to the man’s own action. Now was the time. He breathed deeply.

One moment, the man was looking through the gap in the clearing, the next he was beside the sword. Gamukir had felt the swift movement, and had lately decided to face the new enemy. Leaving the throes of the serpent’s gaze, it sought to swipe at the intruder which was about to enter its guard radius…

The man stopped just outside the guard radius. His ability would not work within it.  He didn’t stop to think. He simply continued running on the bare strength of his feet, perfectly aware that Gamukir was already about to slay him…

The man’s huge hands wrapped around the hilt of the sword as it began to swipe. Gamukir resisted violently, and flared brighter still, searing the man’s hands. The man roared, a terrifying sound, and held on tightly. The observing serpent shivered slightly for the first time since the Old War.

Gamukir submitted to the will of man, and became dim. The area was now only illuminated dimly, the diadems on the serpent having stopped radiating. Gamukir began burning a brilliant yellow, evidence of its corruption and loss. It had no choice, for it was being wielded by the son of God.

Adam smiled at his victory in the very centre of the garden of Eden, and grinned at the approaching serpent. It seemed only slightly etiolated.

“You have done well, Diablo. Now, I shall never return to dust, or face the eternal judgement of God”

Grinning slightly, his face lit by the yellow flames from the vanquished sword, Adam, the son of God, reached for the fruit of Life.


Thanks for reading. And commenting -__-




This is about 40% of the entire dream. The only part I remember.


A boy of about my age came to me, and told me that he stole something from a shrine. Previously, this boy had bullied me, so I wasn’t really interested in his story. But he came to me in the dead of night, with a stubborn expression on his face. He told me the god was going to kill him for stealing, and that I should pray for his salvation.

I was unsure about the story, and why he was asking me to pray for him. While I was still speechless, he motioned with his hands, and suddenly I noticed a hut far behind us. Behind the hut there was a fire. By the fire was a tray, and on the tray was a lot of things I can’t remember. Another boy was also there. He picked up something from the tray and brought it to the boy, it was an object whose function couldn’t be told from its shape. A patently fetish object.

I suddenly knew a lot of things.

I told him I had dreamed of him while he stole the object, but that what he stole wasn’t that very small object. The look on  his face changed, and he swore that thesmall round bone-cloured thing was what he stole. The other boy who brought the thing was now standing beside him.

The darkness rolled away from us, and the colour of the atmosphere changed to a dull brown, such as we only see in old movies. A lot of changes occurred while we spoke out that very short conversation.

I asked him why he had come to me to pray for him. I cant remember what he answered, I agreed to pray, citing that Yahweh was a merciful good, and would take his soul. While I spoke horrible things happened. The boys grew much older in the brownish evening light. A light rain appeared to be falling cos the ground became muddy. The two boys now strangely appeared to be dressed in armor much like the romans wore, but the old man who had stolen from the shrine was rolling on the floor, because his arms and legs had already been cut off. He was just complete from his head to his belly button, no arms. As he was rolling over, I realized he wouldn’t be able to hear me, so I switched my talking to the other man who was standing beside him, dressed in same armor.

He asked me why my God would forgive the dying man, and I laughed and told him that my Yahweh was not like the god of his religion, that his mercy was boundless. Then he shocked me.

‘how can you pray for him, you are not even holy or sinless. We are the same thing!’

As he spoke, my perception of everything changed. The speed of the different images and concepts being made clear to me was too intense. There was this weird thing happening that I really cant explain, but it was like I could see the very nature of evil, I saw it in him, and I saw it in me too at the same time, as though to prove what he was saying. At that moment I realized that I had told him that what he stole was not that small object because I had not seen it in its physical form, I had seen it in this strange evil form, and it was much larger. Basically, the small object contained a great evil. Then the vision ceased.

‘My God is merciful, and my sins will not cause him to abandon me’, I replied.

The man on the ground was certainly in great pain. So I closed my eyes to pray.

‘In Jesus-‘

I woke up instantly, with my head understanding what was happening, and I continued the prayer as though I was still in the dream.


At the most inopportune time in the ages to come, the candent and relentless albedo of the sun shall find itself burdened with the weight of infinite ages by-gone, and wan to a sanguine orb.

In the days before this supernal aberration, Man would have already fought his last great war, and retrogressed the development of his kind through the attendant destruction by settling once again into primeval cultures and roaming the war-torn plains and atomically leveled cities of the earth, having become inundated and partially invulnerable to the radiation. Then in the course of countable seasons the sun would be observed to dim swiftly to a red dull orb and cast a purple radiance across the earth. The earth, and all that is illumined by the sun in the darkness of the infinite void shall attain a mien of gloom beneath the purple radiance, and the very souls of men shall weep for the loss. No more shall the sun be the muse for some romantic poet, or its illumination power the solar panels of the great cities. Its rising from the east which in saner times was an emotive event will become a torturous parody of the old days, and will lift no hearts or trodden soul by its impotent and lacklustre display. Much knowledge would be lost and primal instinct would hold much sway in the demeanour and dealing of man.

Men shall move about in uncertainty and speculate in mournful susurration of a time when the red glow which cast its melancholic rays shall find itself extinguished for all time. The progeny of these men would hear about a yellow sun as in a mythic lore, and stare with hungry souls at the orb which hangs balefully beyond the purple clouds. The moon of the twilight shall be brighter than the sun at noon, and the stars shall shine will dazzling brilliance in the absence of a more glorious celestial body.

In that irreligious and verdigris-eaten world of broken steel and twisted copper, of irradiated concrete, shattered glass, and thatched settlements, the fruit of the field will be sparse, ill-grown, inadequate and a pallid tone would be propagated on the flesh of man. The long-curtailed primal instincts would rush to the fore as though atoning for the ages of repression, and many a man would find sustenance in the raw flesh of another before he submits to slumber. Then men shall resort, as like through the countless ages, to creating deities and issuing lamentations mingled with entreaties for their salvation.

The creator would hearken, and undertake a journey to the sun to achieve repairs and restore it to its old glory, that men may show gratefulness by returning to his adoration. Now the creator had not deemed it expedient to use his power and skill since the first creation at the beginning, except for the achieving of minor wonders among mankind in the days when the lore of him was told abroad, and men bowed to the earth at the mention of his name. He shall find upon reaching the sun that he is as much helpless in reversing its death as the men which cry out to him, for it would not hearken to his command to burn yellow, or yield to his creative devices. As though taking stock of himself for the first time since the beginning, he shall notice for the first time the trailing silver beard which adorn his chin and sweep the ground he treads. He shall look with rising alarm at his mottled hands and feel the beginning of a certain weakness in his appendages. He will also begin to perceive a slight waning in the intensity of his glory. Then a fear shall grip him as it dawns on him  that as the universe is drawing to an interminable close, so is he. He will realize for the first time, how much of himself he had put into the work of creation, and how wrong he was to mistake his great longevity for immortality. He cannot now even remember his beginnings, for it is mired in an epoch so far gone that it seems to have been lost in the infinite oblivion of the great ether. He will recall with sudden alarm that the universe was before him, and that he simply created all within it. the untouchable darkness of the cosmos was before him, and now light must die; For the darkness was here first, and will remain forever. Standing in front of the dying sun, he shall weep in mourning at this calamitous state of things, and turning resolutely about him, head towards the earth.

On the ancient olympian heights of Greece shall thunder and lightning and fire coalize in a brilliant display announcing the coming of majesty, and men shall see from all over the earth and tremble as they run to the hills and into the dead forests, fearful of the baleful scene and incurious to its demystification. The creator shall appear and call them to him, and they shall come at his feet. And while his beards and robes billow in the wind, he will relate to them his impotency in trying to reverse the ominous trend of the celestial cycle and how close to the end he has found himself to be. The people of that unfortunate world shall find themselves stricken with a loss of hope. The creator shall then invite them into his cave on the great mountain; and seated in his purple robes which majesty the pale sun will fail to diminish, tell them of the things that have passed, of other ages, and of great men. He shall tell them about the vanity of the philosophy of an eternity, and the foolishness of an eternity after the grave. In the aeonian rocks of Olympia, his audience shall attend solemnly and listen to his final oration while the world outside the igneous mountain grows reddish gray as it gallops towards a silent annihilation. One after the other, men shall fall into eternal sleep while he speaks, and he shall keep speaking until the last lung has stopped its throbbing dance. When all is silent save the frothy waves which crash into the Grecian peninsula, he shall lay supine upon the flat rock on which he sits and ordain it for a catafalque. As he makes preparation to sleep forever, dark blotches shall appear in the vermillion pallor of the sun. Like a lantern which flares up brightly before its fuel runs out finally, the sun shall assume its former candent glory for a few moments, and swiftly, like a forest fire which has been deprived of air, go out. In the cave which is only lit by his ebbing effulgence, he shall close his eyes and dissipate into the universe which had made him so.

The moon, the earth, the spinning rings of detritus and ice which surround Saturn, the mighty moons of Jupiter, the brilliant stars and a thousand other celestial bodies which occupy the bleak ether…all these things shall be still in that day. And when at last the crashing seas have become stationary and the raging winds have lost their momentum, there shall be a great cacophony as all created things dissipate into the nothingness from whence they were fashioned.

After a time which cannot the conjectured, there shall be a song broadcast in the infinite oblivion, and a rumbling sound shall take precedence. A brightness shall ensue at one end of it, and from its nucleus another would emerge; one who would be called creator. And the first thing he would do would be to create the celestial bodies and, in the fullness of time, forget that the universe was here before him.


Well, you have read it.



Welcome to this extant blog. This is my first and last story

for the year. I wish to appreciate @_teki for her tremendous help in the editing of this story,cos frankly, I cudnt bear to proofread it after writing. it is a total detour from what i intended to write in the first place, but i hope you enjoy it all the same. Its the longest single story I have written for my blog.  share if you like. Have fun 😀


The hallway was lit by an array of wall-mounted torches. The bright yellow light from the flickering fires revealed curious designs on the walls, reminiscent of winged lions and giant eagles. At the end of the thickly carpeted hallway stood a giant oaken door almost as wide, which gleamed in the light of the fire. On the portal were slightly raised sigils of a huge griffin and other markings pertaining to cosmic elements. The avian head of the mythical creature seemed to glare threateningly at all who wished to be admitted into the Throne room of Gandas III, The Eagle of the Deep.

    The edges of the griffin flared a bright blue suddenly, casting the pale hue onto the hallway and contributing to its gloominess. The artistic lines comprising the animal began to move, causing the light to dance. The lines lifted off the door and ventured into the air, floating purposefully until the entire Griffin art was suspended before the door, and then they brightened and seemed to thicken into form, before dying away. In place of the lines now stood a fully formed griffin the height of a large horse. The leonine body of the animal assumed a dangerous stance, its claws digging into the thick Persian rug and its snake tail hissing loudly, while its head shrieked at the empty hallway. Then it waited.  Something was here. As a creature of malevolent magic, none could hope to pass it by force and survive.

   The man walked out of thin air a few metres away, his dark robes evincing his calling even as they flourished about him with his fluid movement. His wrinkled face first glared at the door before they locked the eyes of the guardian in a stare

   “Guardian Aziba, it is only I, Abu-Zamathru”, his raspy voice rang out.

   The Beast recoiled at the sound of the voice, the only voice it could ever recoil from. This was Abu-Zamathru, the most revered wizard in all the earth, the one who had brought him forth from the Land of Yor.

   The Griffin cawed welcomingly at the Wizard.

   “Not now Aziba, the king needs to hear my news”

   The Griffin quickly moved aside as the giant door opened soundlessly.


   King Gandas sat on his heavy gold throne. His corpulence belied a dangerous intelligence, and his bald head shone with the light from the candles and torches. Some of the king’s harem lay on plush cushions to the right, engrossed with the sensual exploration of their supple bodies. The musicians to the left of the great chamber did not pause in their rendition, even when the great doors swung open. However, the king broke his meditation regarding matters of state and watched his sorcerer draw near. The man walked with a slight spring, though he was widely known to be almost two hundred years old.  It was said that even the keepers of the underworld trembled at his passing. They could not contain his mighty shade.

   The wizard reached his king and gave a low bow, the loose ends of his robe almost touching the ground.

   “May you live forever”, he said to the king when he stood upright, his one good eye seeming to take in everything in the room without even turning his head.  Not a person in that room missed the irony in that statement.

   The god-king grunted and waved the musicians and women into silence.

   “Abu-Zamathru,” he began, “it was rumoured that you were on your yearly meditative spell. What has altered your pattern and brought you to my presence this day? Speak with haste, for I have matters to attend to.” A slight frown settled on the King’s face as he spoke. He had a great respect for the Wizard, and therefore a building foreboding as to the purpose of this visitation.

“Yes, my King.” The wizard replied. “That is part of the matter that has brought me here. I have a tale to relate-”

“Out with it, then!”

“Yes, my King.  When the sun was high in the sky today, I was with the council of gods in the far away peak of Olympus. It was my tenth day spent with them, but it was obvious all was not well. They held hurried council and forbade my presence in their midst, acting with a secrecy which gave me a sense of foreboding. When queried, they either made obscure remarks or ignored me outright. Fearing machinations against my person, I cut short my astral travel, for I know of more than one god who would want my spirit forever subject to their whim. I left in haste, abandoning the supernal fulfilment I sought, doubly certain that I was saving my life against unmeasured forces.

“Something remarkable occurred as I abandoned that dreary abode of the celestials and traversed the silver chord back to my shell in my villa. As I touched upon the outer fringes of this realm, I felt just the slightest sign of another consciousness. While it is not a great thing for wizards to pursue astral travel, it is impossible to reach out to one another in such planes. When I opened my eyes, I gave myself to reflection and concluded that the other whom I felt was not of this world. In that ephemeral moment of contact, I understood a little of that being’s thought, and it was filled with great malevolence toward the entire earth.” The wizard paused, perhaps for dramatic effect.

   The king furrowed his brows, “So what are you insinuating, Wizard? I am not one to waste my faculties on ethereal things; that is why I have the likes of you. Speak up!”

   “My Lord,” the Wizard hesitated, “like I said, I concluded that the being was not of this world, for the cosmic rules of astral travel, as far as it is known to us, forbid the grazing of minds beyond the realm of this world. The being that I encountered is verily not of this world. Something is coming, your Imperial Majesty. Something evil, and it harbours within it a burning fury for all life on this our great Island”

   The monarch drew back on his Throne, puzzlement adorning his face.

   “An evil? You do not even know its nature? Is it flesh and blood or fur and bones? Have you not sought clarity from the gods on this? Does Agnar, the one to whom we offer the most sacrifice, not advice you on this?”

   “The deities do not respond to my queries, My King, and that is what troubles me. Surely the priests of Agnar and the priestesses of Kunushera have no knowledge of this yet, else your throneroom would be agog with troubled faces. Perhaps this is the will of the gods, subject to a hidden machination.” Abu-Zamathru tried his best not to look ruffled, but it was becoming increasingly difficult.

   Gandas quickly recognised that whatever could perturb the wizard was a neigh hopeless situation. He felt his mouth turn a little dry as he envisioned the destruction of his Island kingdom, or a possible usurping of his position.

   “What measures do you suppose we take?”

   The wizard looked down wistfully.




I was groping my way out of a barley field wherein I had just lain with an amorous girl who got hold of me in the streets, when a cold gust of wind arose. I looked up at the clouds instinctively. The strange azure streaks of jagged light stretched from the clouds to the earth in a gruesome dance.

The cackling sound of the lightning carried over the chilling wind, and I looked up perfunctorily to read the state of the weather. The first vision stopped me dead in my tracks. The night was cloudy and the translucent clouds were bountiful, aided in beauty by the silvery light of the moon. But behind a particularly thick mass of clouds was a very large dark object. It was as though something unnatural and unsightly was advancing, soon to break through the clouds at any moment and reveal itself. In the distance, I heard a cry go up and then the sound of windows and doors being unlatched.  The hidden object in the sky threw a shadow on the ground, and in the otherwise brightly moonlit night, its shadow clothed the landscape slowly like a moving demonic blanket. It was apparent the mass would soon block out the moonlight, and then chaos would reign.  I hurried to my dwelling, terrified, my old mother at the fore of my considerations.



The great metal had hung in the sky over the barley field for four days. It was a great pebble-shaped entity, which had numerous caverns and impingements on its otherwise smooth body.  It was ashen in hue, and had underneath it, a protrusion which could have been a kind of housing. Boldly scrawled across its side was what was obviously a kind of message, or name. It was not known to any of the sages or kings, though its calligraphy was fairly easy to reproduce.


 I  N  V  A  D  E  R




Entry 2:42pm of Day 10:

Private Diary:

Colonel Chinedum Agwomba, US command.

We have now spent ten days over the skies of the island. It is truly a beauty, as has been told in the great legends. The island, which is among the largest I have yet seen, is surrounded by bountiful clumps of coconut trees. Its white beaches are unpolluted, unlike the quickly deteriorating shores of the earth. Huge monuments to its deity are visible among the gleaming white housing and official structures which seem to be made of granite, as far as the ship’s cameras permit me to surmise. Upon our nocturnal entry, we fed our eyes on the giant fields of wheat and ranches of cattle, and were little surprised to see the aberration in the weather which was no doubt conditioned by the crossing of the Al-2201 wormhole, which brought us to this 3000 BC. It is almost a sad thing to see the island plundered, but I have no remorse, for its natural fate is not any kinder. Atlantis has been doomed to sink to the bottom of the ocean by causes yet unknown, and we will plunder its gold and ivory before that cataclysmic event happens. It’s a good thing the archaeologists were right when they postulated a suitable period when the civilization was already polished. It would have been a devastating economic waste to have spent all those resources and arrive at a time period when the famous island was already sunken.

I am still in awe of the Warp Drive that has made this possible, and glad that the only existing piece of that technology was kept under maximum security at the headquarters of the United Nations. A result of the joint project of a committee of nations, it can only be used for the unconditional betterment of the good people of earth.

The experts have assured the United Nations Prosperity Council that there is no danger of effecting a time paradox, since Atlantis would eventually perish out of time in its own accord. We were under strict orders not to take any prisoners, or be intimate with their women. To this end, the soldiers have been placed under Abnebi, an Anaphrodisiac from PIKN Industries. Extra stores of this drug have been fed into the reservoir of their battle suits.

Over the days, we have discouraged all attempts to escape on the water by deploying AGM-142 Popeye missiles. During the secret briefings back on Earth of AD 2090, we were ordered not to let any soul escape, so as not to cause unforeseen ripples in time. The people of Atlantis, according to legend, are an almost self-sufficient people. They almost never migrated for business or leisure to the other nations. They had all they needed on their large bit of rock.

The Palace will be our first port of call, of course. The head must be subdued for the body to fall. Even right now, the foot soldiers are preparing for the first wave.



They came on the eleventh day. Over the last few days, the great gloomy-looking floating structure had drifted slowly towards the palace. The Soldiers of Atlantis have been recalled from the navy fleets and stationed everywhere in the city. The barracks were empty, and the blue cape and gold crest of the Atlantian Legions coloured the pathways and wide streets at every turn. For once those sons of dogs respected themselves and did not treat the citizen with disdain. We were all afraid, and with good reason. The temple was filled with praying denizens and the priests worked tirelessly in offering sacrifices to the gods. We were now in no doubt as to the malevolent inclinations of the aerial object.

Some of our people had tried to reach the far shores on boats and ships, but by some power we could not ascertain, it was said that the water vessels seemed to explode where they floated. An attempted mass exodus was quelled by this same technique, and it was not long before the citizenry decided that waiting for the fate of the god (as some had chosen to call it) was better than perishing in the shark-infested waters. The lightning rods had been released from the armoury, and the soldiers wielded them with care. They had last been used a dozen years before, when the kingdom of Persia sailed across the seas in quest of our colonisation. They were weapons of deadly powers whose secrets of construction had been handed down to us from our father’s fathers.

The palace was surrounded tightly, since the looming threat seemed purposed poised over it.

Again, they came at night. I was on my bed in my humble abode, dreaming fitfully with my sick mother beside me when the rumble started. A great creaking sound, like the opening of a long-locked metal door, vibrated through the island in the cool night air, stirring terror into our hearts. I jumped up from the sleep that had not come, and after making sure that water was close at hand for my mother to take when the terrible fit of cough started, I slid out the door quietly. The streets were bustling with the frightened and the troubled. Pleas invoking the messenger of the god, Hermes, to report our plight to the mighty Zeus rent the air. The noise was overwhelming, and I shielded my eyes as my inordinate curiosity drove my legs within viewing distance of the palace, which fortunately was situated just about a mile away.

By the light of the moon, the details were scanty, but I thought that the belly of the melon-shaped structure now contained a small hole. Where else would be unidentifiable figures be falling from?

The distance was too great to see clearly, but sound carried very clearly in the cold air. Ululations of pain filled the air as the sound of battle began. It would take me a long time to realize that those falling figures were been people like us.

Over the next few days, we got to know our enemies better, especially in the aspect regarding their proclivity to the use of force and the joy of looting.


Entry 6: 07pm of Day 15:

Private Diary:

Colonel Chinedum Agwomba, US command.

 We are now in the fifteenth day of our campaign. It was scheduled, at the maximum, for twenty-five. The palace of the king has been plundered. Our men reported seeing some strange threatening animal, but destroyed it before we had a chance to examine it. A drawing has been rendered by the more artistic of the men. An animal made of what seemed a combination of a Lion and Eagle would have been quite a sight, I think. I can think of one or two international districts back home who would quickly convert such a thing into a religious focal point. I digress.  A huge treasure of precious metals and jewels has been acquired, and more is promised upon ransacking the giant temples. Our expected cargo is estimated at a worth of about 5 trillion dollars. The King was not found in the palace; though we are reasonably sure he hasn’t left the island. Their soldiers put up a brave fight, but are of course no match for ours. They wield fascinating rods of lightning, and the engineers have been clamouring for a sample to be brought aboard. They readily forget the instructions against such inclinations. Nothing foreign is to be brought aboard. Besides such a thing would not benefit us, for we are five thousand years more advanced. We have no evidence of them having developed submarine travel, but we are not taking any chances. We have secured the perimeter of the submerged part of the island with wide-range Plasma walls. Anything bigger than a small fish shows up on the INVADER’s radar screens.


Entry 1: 13pm of Day 17:

Private Diary:

Colonel Chinedum Agwomba, US command.

Things are going according to plan. The global economy is in shambles following the devastating effects of World War 5. Thankfully, the nuclear disarmament policy by the Obama administration of 2011 followed through and the world disposed its huge store of nuclear warheads into the oceans or fired them into deep space. Nevertheless, fifty nations playing with thousands of powerful missiles nearly succeeded in reducing the world to a barren wasteland. About 968 million deaths were recorded. Entire Aboriginal tribes were wiped out by Russian warheads. The United Nations council is still pursuing the Maximum Disarmament Initiative (MDI). This has brewed political conflict among the nations, but fortunately, they are united in the singular pursuit of rejuvenating the global economic status. Even the sanctimonious eastern block and the extant Vatican agreed. And thus the Initiative for the Vivification And Development of Earth aka Project INVADE was born. Approving the use of badly dwindling earth resources, the UN commissioned the building of the INVADER, a nuclear powered kilometre-long air ship with multiple decks occupying a height of three stories. It looks like an advanced Zeppelin. Its fuselage was developed from the root metal, Titanium, into a stronger alloy, and its destination computer was re-invented with the infamous Warp Drive. The Drive had been in slow development in the African Union before the war broke out and research was discontinued. After the war, and with the coalition of member nations and precocious child prodigies, development was hastened in a highly compartmentalized manner (so no one group of people know all there is to know about it) and the device was produced after about 10years.  The Think Tanks thought it beneficial to plunder a doomed world in order to support a tottering one. I am inclined to agree. It is the way of life. The weak must support or give way to the strong. The economists are now estimating a weight of about 1 metric tonne in gold bullion alone.  They say the people will not be hit hard for long. At the very least, they still have shoals of fish to subsist on.

The time warp and its production notes are scheduled to be destroyed after this excursion to prevent rogues and megalomaniacs getting their hands on it in the future. All countries voted Aye.




Nineteen days now. The invaders have plundered us merciless. Our king has not been found, neither have the acclaimed wizards and oracles been sighted. Our soldiers make a great show, but are no match for the men who are dressed from their head to their feet in metal. Their voices, no doubt altered by the property of their armour, come in a harsh rumble. Their purging of our treasures is now systematic, after the reportedly abusive looting of the palace. They are men like us, yet we had never heard about their culture of floating constructs. None knew where they came from. The nobles and Lords have been thrown into poverty and even death. The invaders are not gentle. They take by force and kill with impunity in other to subdue the rest of us. The soldiers of Atlantis are fallen. The invaders have total control now. We are yet to see one of them plainly, for their gleaming black helmets cover their faces. Their seemingly soft leather clothing protected them from the lightning rods of our soldiers.

I buried my mother two days ago in the garden behind our little home. This illness got her, especially since I could not get medicine to help her. Not with all the chaos that is unravelling outside.

The temples have been ransacked and the gold, silver and diamonds, taken up into the floating monolith. Atlantians don’t generally have contact with other nations, so I am reasonably sure fate is ours alone to acknowledge and bear. I despair for my dear Atlantis.





Entry 4:12pm of Day 21:

Private Diary:

Colonel Chinedum Agwomba, US command.

   All is going as planned.

   We had a stroke of serendipity today. Our submarines have been patrolling the waters since the beginning of the campaign. Atlantis, being a much-respected continent in legend, is very likely to have advanced beyond its peers in certain frontiers. We are not taking any chances. High command believes the King or others may have the benefit of an archaic type of submarine for the purpose of escape. This view is not popular, but we have to obey the High Command. As a result, eight submarines patrol the island.

   Submarine UH-234 discovered something today.  It mistakenly found its sonar waves bounced of metal at the bottom of the ocean. Since ships of this era were apparently built with mostly wood, it was expected that the foreign metal material would be treasure from sunken ships. We were right.

Apparently, in times past, ships with valuable jewels or goods have met with disaster during terrible storms and have gone under as a result, in plain view of the whole island. The engineers on the INVADER are preparing the modified Search and Rescue Ui-64 Diver for the salvaging operation tomorrow.



On the 23rd day, there was an earthquake. I was hiding in the cellar of the mother’s house. The black armoured invaders have practically enslaved the people. They are being forced to carry the huge treasure to big vessels, which afterward lift the treasure to the floating vessel. Will we ever be rid of them?

The earthquake isn’t the first I would be witnessing in my lifetime, but it was the first that didn’t really feel like an earthquake. The Island seemed to move, but there was no attendant rumble or tremor from the depths of the earth. Could it be the gods announcing their readiness to come and rescue us? I hope so. Our king has gone into hiding somewhere in the island, maybe even used one of his fabled underwater ships to leave it. The gods are all we have left, yet they do not answer us.



Entry 5:37pm of Day 23:

Private Diary:

Colonel Chinedum Agwomba, US command.


The submarine crews involved in the salvaging operations were violently assaulted by deep water sharks today, and three ended up massacred under water. One of the submarines attempted to stave off the other approaching sharks by hurriedly deploying a  Delta-F2 torpedo. It missed its target and hit the rocky foundations of the Island. There was a slight earthquake. Sonar investigation revealed the foundations of the island contained a network of cavernous recesses. The explosion has weakened the structure on one side. It is estimated that the foundation won’t hold for a long.  

We were astounded to realize that Atlantis would sink by our own hands. The High Command is horrified, but it maintains an air of stoic resignation. We may be colonisers and maybe even thieves, but never cold-blooded murderers. There is nothing that can be done. We have to play the script that the fates have set for us. This knowledge is compartmentalized to reduce the feeling of guilt, especially among the civilian facilitators of the campaign.

Genocide. That is what this is. It is totally fucked up. I hope God forgives us, because this event has already occurred back in time, before we even came here. It is without our control.



Alas, Atlantis sinks!




Entry 1: 00pm of Day 24:

Private Diary:

Colonel Chinedum Agwomba, US command.

 The Island is sinking. We have recalled our troops. Some have been lost during this campaign as a result of demonstrations and pockets of resistance among the population. They will be remembered. We watched today as the island suddenly faltered under its own weight and the outer fringes began to break off. The attendant mini-tsunamis overshot the banks and drowned the nearby settlements. A few hours later, a noisy tremor went through the island. The submarine crews confirmed the escalating destruction of the foundations before we lost radio contact. We had only managed to salvage about 200kilos of gold artefacts. The crews and equipment are considered lost. We are now preparing to exit this ancient version of our world and navigate the Ominus-K8T wormhole for the return journey. It has been a successful campaign, but only for us.


Maybe I should walk to the woman down the street and buy a satchet of coffee. It’s a cool evening.

I walk down the rural street, kicking up sand as my feet lazily drags along. To my right is an undeveloped plot of land with a fence and a huge gate. The gap at the hinges afford me a slim vista into the plot as I pass by. There is a cow grazing inside. Cool. As I move forward my angle of view widens. For a moment I see a white bear farther inside the land,hiding in the grass behind the cow. Hmm…wonder what a bear is doing in ikorodu. Well, that is one very dead cow.

I reach my destination.

“Nescafe please”.

The woman silently hands it to me and accepts my twenty naira.

I walk back down the road to my house. As I pass the fenced plot again, I look through the gap at the side of the gate. The cow is still there. My angle of view sweeps through the entire land as I keep moving. Something is missing.

Where is the bear?

Something tells me to look behind me.


It’s coming from down the street. How did it get there?!  It’s running towards me! I am still in the middle of the street. My house is still far..And I remember from NatGeo that bears can reach 50km/hr at full speed.  No time to think. Run!!

My feet move in accordance with my survival instincts. Why I am the only one on the street? My gate is almost near.


I am home. Now if I could just push the gate open and ent-

The bear knocks the down brutally in front of my gate. Shit!

How did it get here so fast?!

It tumbles with me on the concrete and rises up with a roar. I know what it is going to do next. It will  slap me with its powerful paws. Just as all bears do when fighting.

Why is there a gun in my hand? It’s a small gun. Somehow I know it only contains one bullet. Why am I thinking about this??!!

I aim and shoot before the bear’s paws come down on my head. I see the bullet leave the gun. It is coloured very weirdly. As though it doesn’t belong in this scene. Like bad graphics. Of course it doesn’t belong, I didn’t have a gun two seconds ago! I watch it in “bullet time” as it makes contact with the bear’s furry head. So vivid.

And gets flattened. Fuck.

It didn’t even penetrate.

The bear falls backwards heavily. Somehow, I know I have about three seconds to remove myself from under its white body, run into my house and lock the gate. Three seconds.

I push the gate while on the ground and scramble into the house. I don’t even have time to get up. Shit is real. For some weird reason, the gate doesn’t have that Jam-Lock that we just installed. Good. No need to fumble with the keys, else I would be dead.

I am about to close the gate before the beast rises up and rams his body against it. Fuck. What kind of animal resists a bullet to the head??

Who am I to play tug of war with a bear ? I lean with all my strength against the gate as it vibrates savagely against me. I am terrified. I am going to die. I can’t keep this much longer. Why the fuck is the Jam-Lock not here?? It would have locked the gate instantly upon closing.

I look behind me.

Thank You God!

I don’t bother to ask why a soldier with a gun is relaxing in my compound.

“Come here with your gun!”, I scream

The dude runs over with his glorious AK47. I have never been so happy to see a gun.

I am still pushing against the roaring bear on the other side of the gate, but the gate is opening wider In its favour. He is steadily winning the tug of war.

“…going to leave the gate. Please get ready to shoot. There is a bear on the other side”

The man is not afraid. Who can be afraid when holding a gun? He aims at the gate. Actually there are two men, but the other has no gun. Weird. I don’t remember his face.

I am at the limit of my endurance; I leave the gate and dive to the floor as the metal flings open with great force. The soldier opens fire instantly. I am very happy to hear sounds of agony from the bear. Strangely, it sounded exactly like a dog in pain.

I get up quickly to see its dead body, and am surprised to see the unwounded beast running away. But how?? After all those bullets?? No blood on its white fur??

Who cares? I am alive!

Thank God.

Last night’s dream is too weird. This is from the 19th of Jan. More coherent.


Pantheon V – Alaklet



By the strength of my will, I fashion you

Let him who is begotten of me come forth

Come forth, Amun!!

…and my son, Amun, was called forth from the silence that pervaded at the beginning.

He was to stay beside me while I fashioned the realities, to spend eternity revelling in the work of our hands and taking in the sight which our minds would bring forth. We would move unfettered throughout reality. I was pleased because I had found one to make discourse with.

As a consequence of creation, there existed little patterns of light that represented all things and which stretched into the immeasurable distance. These entities represented all that was and all that could be. I looked into the Pattern at the very beginning, and saw the possibility of Amun’s rebellion. But it was only a possibility. Why would he rebel?

I was away when Amun stole my chattels; some of the distilled essences I had made for myself to ease my work of creation, and disappeared. My fury was unbridled at this insolence. When peace had returned to me, the universes were suddenly too vast a place to seek him out. He had hid himself from me, and it took much passing of time for me to find a probable reality he could be in; a reality I did not create. I settled on the Sun System. After many years of contemplation, I discovered the earth. It was at this location I felt the strongest bond, but it was not to Amun.

The beast Apep was wrought of pure evil. She could only have come forth as the anti-result of something Amun must have created with my instruments. Apep was surely the opposite of Amun. Evidently, He had not mastered the art of creation and this beast had resulted from his ill-thought dabbling. I realized his motivation, Worship. In this Universe, the creation worshipped Amun as creator. Worship did not please me and Amun must have come to the understanding that I would never have sanctioned his craving for it. Worship is a shackle that requires presence. It was not in concert with my purpose of freely moving through and observing creation with my son.

Amun could not be felt, but I was certain he was nearby. I could not interfere directly without revealing myself so I waited. Somewhere, somehow, the infinite probabilities would bring my purpose to bear. My patience would never wear out.

Then Ra stole my elixir, one of the many gifts I had placed in different realities for those who could find them.

A sentient being of interest who had evolved in a Universe close to my current station, I looked into Ra’s Pattern and observed strength of will and cunning that was unmatched in his entire world, Asco. But I saw a loyalty to his Emperor that bordered on worship, a shackle. So I sowed the seed of rebellion into his heart and gave him the elixir as an incentive.


Upon his consumption of my Elixir, I cast him into Amun’s Universe and right into the world I had chosen. He would be an alien there, albeit a mighty one. He should come to Amun’s attention and force him to reveal himself. He must answer for his crimes against his Maker.

I met with the soul of the one called Isis and surreptitiously passed her visions of the things that I wanted to come to pass. She would guide Ra, for she had the the right motivation.

Thus were the pieces set. I could only hope for a favourable outcome. The Pattern was obscure to me, for nothing in this universe was of my making.

Ra’s thirst for power played perfectly into my designs and revealed to me things which were erstwhile unknown; the Apep was important in revealing my prodigal son. My interest was aroused when Set, the one who prided himself as a being of Chaos, sacrificed his existence for the release of the Apep. Grown weary of immortality? What did that mean? I considered the vagaries of the universes. Emperor Asu-Raneh lusted after my elixir, and this Set who had been created immortal had tired of it. Spectacular.

Then the Apep came forth from the underworld, and for the first time in half a million of earth-years, I felt my son, Amun. He had been asleep all this while. He had made himself two spawns, which were to him what he had been to me. I observed them battle the beast for a time, contemplating the weakling he had become, before my patience reached an end.

I decided to reveal myself.


I stood in their midst, regarding them as they persisted in suspended animation. The Apep was truly a magnificent sight. Ra had only just destroyed Osiris. I knew what I wanted to do. Isis had sensed me, my little vision had left her susceptible to my essence.

Nut and Geb, creations of Amun. I took them back, dissolving their matter back into me, the true creator. The Apep had served its purpose, and was in fact blight on creation. I do not like unplanned consequences. I took her out too, dissolving her into the winds with a thought. She would have no part of me.

I held unto Amun. I knew he could see me but he was in the presence of Alaklet, and was therefore trapped and powerless. I regarded him with fury for a while and then held unto him. We were going back to the Beginning. I would deal with him in my abode. Then I had a sudden inspiration, and reached also for the one called Ra.


In the Nothing, a weakened Amun protested vehemently against my actions. He tried to assert his right as an independent parsonage worthy of worship if he so desired. I considered him sternly. His end had been decided the moment he hid himself from me deliberately. I watched him speak dishonourably of my name. When he was done, I rose from my settlement and took him to another reality. There, I stripped his name from him by calling it back unto myself. I made him nameless, a nothing. Then I took his being even as he realized his end and instigated servile pleas for leniency, and crushed it between two suns. Trapped between their almost infinite masses, he would know suffering for a time before his matter dissolved with great spectacle into the Universe. He had been a creation of Power, so this Universe would be sacrificed for the purpose of his destruction. I never honoured Amun with the sound of my voice.

Then I remembered Ra.


The one who is called Alaklet focused on me and I felt more insignificant than a grain of sand in the Wa Adi. He was one of infinitely greater Majesty than my former master Asu-Raneh and more power than a thousand Amuns. I had watched Amun grovel before him. I do not know why it has pleasured him to bring me here or let me see the awesome suffering of Amun. In the… Nothing where we were, I moved backwards in terror. He is the owner of the Elixir I had first stolen for the purposes of my Master. Alaklet.

Then he spoke to me. A comforting ballad.

“I have seen you, Ra. You were limited by your mortality, and by your cunning have now surpassed the boundaries of the immortality I gave you. I seek neither worship, nor glory, but a son. A son to contemplate all things with. You have been my champion all this time, albeit without your consent; Now, Will you be my son?”

Then Alaklet reached into my mind and showed me. He widened my understanding of his request. I saw the past, the present and future. I understood the…Pattern.

I was not worthy to stay in his presence. What was the sun compared to one who had used two suns to torture Amun, supposed creator? I saw what was in store for me.

“Yes…Lord!” I did not even recognise my own ululation.

“You will return to the earth, where you have earned your right of Worship, though it is not within my purpose. Know this, for a time I will let you dominate all within your range, but when my time is accomplished, I shall come for you to bring you back unto myself so that we may set off according to the purpose for which I have adopted you”

Alaklet had given me a chance to be both ruler and God.

Then he touched me and exalted my form. He expanded my mind and then opened it to the secrets of the Universe. When all was done, he anointed me with another name, the symbol of my sonship. When it was set upon me, excellent majesty became my portion, and I revelled in it.

I, Lord of the suns, Amun-Ra.



HAha. I bet you didn’t see Alaklet coming. FYI.. the final name of Ra in mythology is Amun-Ra

Thanks you for reading. It has been amazing journey. We appreciate your inputs, your comments, tweets and most flatteringly, your DMs regarding your fascination with this series. I want to thank @edgothboy for being an awesome project partner. His knowledge of Egyptian mythology was valuable in the writing of this series. Regardless of who wrote what chapter, considerable level of thought was contributed by the other.

Yes, we know the story is not perfect. We had some complaints about the length, but this is as short as we could make it without making it seem convoluted. Thanks for your persistence, your “washings”, your subs on twitter (thank God for the Search function), your relentless hammering about writing a book(which one person said he would pay 15k for *faints) and your love.

On a personal note, I want to thank all the fans of this blog. I know what I write is not everyone’s cup of tea, but for those who find the ride pleasurable, I can’t thank you enough. You all make it magical for me.

Oh yeah, the holy insect get a mention. He made me start reading my stories countless times before I post. Big thanks to him. You guys may have no idea how irritating it is for grammatical errors to be continually pointed out by an insect -_- his saltiness and unspoken love is appreciated.

It has been a good year for writing. Well, it has been the only year for writing, for meJ.

And so this blog closes for the holidays. if you are a new visitor, I invite you to go through my previous stories. You may find something to pass the time with.

You should catch me on @hl_blue’s blog later when I write about my year.

Merry Christmas

*cues xmas love song as blog fades out of picture


Pantheon IV – Conquest & Consolidation

The Arabian Desert, East of the Nile.  Al Ahmar

Tumble weed suddenly rolls past a desert side-winder; frightening the snake and making it slide its curved body smoothly into the sand. The air is hot, boiled by the harsh sun. Suddenly, clouds begin to gather. In moments, the sunny desert turns dark as early night, and the foreign rumble of thunder scares the baffled desert animals into their fiery hot holes. Sand dunes begin to heave as though the earth has a heartbeat. An unnatural coldness eliminates the haze of the torrid desert air and from the darkest part of the stormy clouds, Nut, born of the sky, emerges.

A sand dune explodes, raising brown sand into the sky. The second one, He of the Earth, comes forth. Geb.

Suddenly a comet lands in the nearby sand dune. Amun, the Elder, has arrived.

The mortals of Egypt, West of the Nile, feel the tremors. They know their gods have come. Wards against evil are redrawn in freshly spilled blood. Doors are locked shut. The palace shuts down. The incense censers cease to pour forth smoke and the adulations in the temples dry up as Egypt falls to silence. Even the god-king dare not stretch his neck to the desert.

The three elder gods are the points of a pyramid, the primeval sigil of power. It has been aeons since they found company with one another; that age when they bound the beast Apep, before submitting themselves into sleep, having handed the earth over to their spawn, their pantheon. Now, they have awakened again for the same purpose.

“She comes”, Amun intones, his voice inseparable from the rumble of thunder. His body crackles with lightning. His robes are calm, though the desert is pummelled by harsh winds. Amun, creator.

For a moment, the sounds of lightning and thunder cease. Impossible silence reigns as the universe welcomes another powerful being. Lightning crackles while performing a picturesque dance over an area of sand within the coverage of the gods, and the grains begin to move in a fluid whirl, like water. The three do not waste time waiting for the serpentine form of Apep to manifest. Apep was never to be underestimated. They hurry towards the troubled sea of sand, hands and eyes glowing with power.

As they converge on the troubled spot, Apep with a mighty cry of fury shoots out, head first. Her many eyeballs ablaze with fire from the rage of her age-long imprisonment. She thrashes, her gargantuan head darting in all direction, searching. Then she sees him, Amun, the orchestrator of her torment and her burning rage crystallizes into icy hate. She lunges at him.


Osiris, Lord of the Sun Palace.

Ra, the stranger from another place, had not come to pay him obeisance. He had not even revealed himself in any apparent way since his coming. Had Osiris not being attentive to the Sun and it’s workings, he would not have known that it had bound itself to the yet unseen stranger. Now it is all revealed. Apep has been released and Anubis had renounced his sonship to be re-united with the bloodythirsty Wepawet, his war Aspect. Set is no more…and this ursuper, Ra (they say he is a glorified Hawk) has cast a challenge. The battle field is on the Nubian Desert, that desolate plain outside his realm of influence. His displeasure at his authority being challenged is so great, it has taken the soul of the pharaoh’s queen to satiate him.

He regards his loyal ones; Nephthys, Sobek, Sekhmet and Horus his son, by Isis.

“Prepare for glory”, he says, as he climbs down his throne of luminescent gold. He regards his hands as he brings it up. They are glowing, manifesting his rage. He strides solemnly in his magnificent armour till he reaches the edge of the floating circular palace, and looks down upon the earth, his ovoid eyes taking in the view he desired. The scene below grated on his senses. True power was at work down there.

He had only just learned of the release of Apep. The elders had come down to put the beast back into its pit, but the damage had already been done. Osiris could no longer draw on the strength of the Elders as Lord of the Palace, for they had broken their sleep. Ra was a sly dog. He had known this. Had Isis told him? Now he would face this Ra with his own strength. Osiris was not perturbed in the least, but this would have been much easier if the Apep had not been released. Very well then…

He lifted his face rudely to the Sun and gave a hostile cry as he ‘fell’ to the desert below.

His cohorts followed suit.


Apep, the mighty serpent rushed towards Amun, and only just missed ramming her monstrous head into his form because he moved sideways in a flash. The force of her head on the sand caused a minor tremor. Nut and Geb took advantage of this momentary confusion from the blow and shot towards her head, both arriving in tandem and dealing a powerful blow each. The serpent raised her head suddenly and Nut and Geb were sent flying through the air as her muscular tail swiped them from behind. Amun called down lightning and struck her shiny length. She didn’t even cry out.

“I have spent the ages of my isolation preparing myself for this. Do you think your tricks of light can slay me? Curse you Amun; I shall feed on your essence this day!”

Fire jumped from her mouth and struck at Amun. He raised an invisible shield, so that he was still standing when the flames quickly burned out.

“Shush, serpent! Your revealing is not to my purpose. You go back to your origin this day”

By a sleight of his hand, tongues of fire fell from the agitated dark skies and rained upon the serpent. She burrowed savagely into the dune to escape the stings, and Amun; the first Elder caused the sand to cough her back out and watched as she was thrown into the air. Apep would not be overcome. From her dark protruding scales materialised a torrent of fiery spikes. They fell quickly to the ground, their piercing heat melting the desert sand into rough glass and causing her adversaries to shield themselves. This distraction extinguished Amun’s firestorm.

Then she did something she had never done before. Perhaps it was her anger that caused it.

As she fell back to the ground, she reduced drastically in size and slithered faster than a Egyptian Asp toward the surprised Amun, wrapped her scaly length about his lower parts and flung him at the nearest entity, Geb. It happened so fast. Apep was already on the move again, but Nut drew to herself the air between the particles of desert sand beneath the dragon causing the desert floor to collapse like weakened granite slabs from the quarries of Thebes. This slowed her down, giving the other two fallen gods time to collect themselves them and shoot balls of power at her. They both hit her square on her serpentine head, stunning her.


Halfway through his fall, an upwards-surging ball of white heat hit Osiris in the face, forcing his form to rebound upwards into the sky for a while before he righted himself and regained balance. He instantly materialised his sword and raised it just in time to parry a powerful blow from Ra’s as Ra appeared above him and struck. They stood apart now, floating on the air currents.

“It is you who challenges me? Your destruction shall serve as a deterrent to all who would defy my Lordship”, Osiris hissed

“This day, as long as the Sun burns, you will fall by the hand of Ra”, his adversary countered

And so they battled. Time was not to be wasted.

The cohorts of Osiris were caught off guard for a moment as they continued their fall. Osiris had begun his battle. Theirs would soon begin.

They landed powerfully on their feet on the soft desert, causing a minor sandstorm, and barely had time to reconnoitre their surrounding before Anubis in his war aspect, Wepawet the armoured ,two-metre tall Wolf-Jackal, threw himself at  Sobek of the Crocodiles and Entertainer of War. The others did not pay mind. This was the way of the celestials. One to exclusively match another in battle

Selket, the Mistress of Scorpions, suddenly lifted herself from beneath the sands and joined battle with Nephthys, the fire-breathing goddess of Lamentation and death.

The Leonine-faced Sekhmet materialised in full battle armour, silently challenging Horus the deity of the Day.

The War of the gods began.


The stunning of Apep was a decisive move. It so appeared that the three gods had surrounded Apep. Each shot chains of lightning around the throat of the giant slithering abomination, seeking to strangle her to a subdued state. Apep had already anticipated this, for this was how they had bound her before. She did the only thing she knew would save her; instead of trying to attack all three at the same in a fit of blind determination, she went for one. Geb.

She pulled powerfully on the ethereal chains of the other two gods as she headed for Geb, while spitting a fireball at him. Geb quickly levitated, holding on to his chains. Apep roared in rage. The other two gods began pulling down on their hands, causing the chains of lightning to wrestle down Apep’s head violently on the ground, raising a sea of sand. They succeeded, and Apep was further weakened by a blow to the head.

Ra battled Osiris in the skies above while their minions made war on the ground. Lightning flashed amidst the clanging of swords in the heavens as both tussled for the throne. Osiris did not give way to Ra’s onslaught. Frogs leapt forth from the Nile and water turned to blood as the two deities resisted each other. The skies over Egypt darkened and the air turned icy whenever Osiris had the advantage.

Osiris had a mastery of the sword which was not competently rivalled by Ra, but what the latter lacked in skills, he made up for in speed. His reflexes were the only thing that kept him from falling before Osiris, as they flashed across the desert sky with swords clanging violently and producing streaks of blue lightning. There was never enough time for Ra to use his abilities for Osiris held him captive within the realm of duelling.

After what seemed like an eternity of striking and parrying wildly, there was a miscalculation and Ra overreached with a thrust of his sword, and he was struck powerfully on side of his face with the flat of Osiris’ blade. The powerful stunning blow threw him far from the immediate presence of Osiris. His adversary was strong, Immensely strong. Little wonder he was Lord of the palace. Osiris took advantage of Ra’s weakness and headed straight, determined to make one last strike to subdue the fool that challenged him to battle.

In those few moments, Ra called upon the power of the sun. It was the only opportunity that had opened to use his powers. He suddenly had an inspiration. As Osiris drove the tip of his sword into the apparently weakened figure of Ra, the unexpected happened.

Ra burst into tiny spheres of light. Osiris, totally unprepared for this, couldn’t stop his movement and ended with within the tiny thousands of sphere. He suddenly felt vulnerable and made to shoot himself out of the presence of Ra.

“You shall not defy Ra”, the voice came from everywhere at once, a split-second before each sphere exploded mightily. This was Ra replicating what happened continually on the surface of the Sun.

At this moment, when Ra’s victory was being accomplished and Apep the serpent was slightly weakened, reality froze and all existence went into suspended animation.


Isis waited at the vacant Umm Bissila Mines on the barren plains of the Arabian Desert. It had been five days since the decisive battle and the Sun Palace was now filled with subjects but no king. They had called a temporary truce after the disappearances. The tension was still palpable, especially between Nephthys and Isis, but no one was ready to break into battle when an end was not foreseeable. Horus had refrained from laying claim to the throne, for Anubis had called Osiris father before him and would fight him to the death. The fact that he had regained his powerful War aspect wasn’t lost on the falcon-head Horus. They would wait for the return of the one who would be their King.

She didn’t know what exactly she was waiting for at this location, but she believed it had something to do with the disappearances. She had felt the tug to come here and just wait. She had been standing on the same spot for two days.

 Ra, Amun and his spawn had not been found after the battle. The others knew something had happened, but no one remembered exactly when the personalities left the fray. One moment they were there, and the next they were gone.

It began raining in the desert. She waited apprehensively. This strange occurrence could only mean the time for the unexpected was at hand.

The space north of her position shimmered unnaturally, a loud rustling sound, blinding light…and Ra tumbled head-first from empty space into her presence. She was startled.

She started toward him, but he was on his feet before she could reach out to help him.

“Lord Ra!”

Ra stood straight. There was something different about his visage. She felt a power about him that was not present before. He smelt of the sun…and something else, something more powerful.

He looked at her solemnly and a light smile played across his features. His ovoid eyes had a strange blue hue to them, almost faux illumination. He lowered his eyelids halfway as he spoke.

“Isis, consort” Isis started at the sound of his voice. It was now gentle, yet commanding, the sound of one who was sure he would be obeyed. This Ra was evolved.

“You shall not bow to me as Ra”

Then he that was known as Ra told her his new name. It was welcomed with lightning and thunder. The desert winds howled at its pronunciation.

And Isis fell before her god.


Thanks for reading. the finale comes up on Sunday at 9am 🙂