I grew up in Cairo, Egypt. My surroundings generally involved servants, slaves, nobility, or foreign diplomats and lots of sand. I stood in the bustling city and stared at the civilians, toga clad priests and priestesses of the gods, workers scurrying about like locusts, and of course father's government officials telling people how to live their lives. I was standing there when one of our guards, a tan man in his twenties, said "Young prince, your father requests that you come in and pray to Aten." Reluctantly I agreed and the guard led me back to the palace.
Amenhotep IV, or Akhenaten, was my father's name. As we didn't quite get along I only referred to him by name. There were many reasons I didn't like him. The most prominent being that he tried to completely undermine centuries of tradition. He insisted that Aten, a god of his own creation, was the only god. Father had successfully created a cult in his own kingdom. This monotheistic cult was not one of which I approved, but I put up with it.
Mother was slightly less strict, although being queen of Egypt and my father's wife couldn't be easy. Her name was Nefertiti and she reigned as my father's favorite wife. She, like my father, also pushed for this new religion, but she was more lenient on the subject of worshiping other gods in the palace. She was beautiful, or maybe that is just the blind opinion a young boy has of his mother. They both communicated easily with the Greek delegates.
Following my father's death, and his burial rites that entailed being protected by Aten, my mother fell ill. Once both were deceased, I as the eldest son took to the throne at a young age. After I became king of Upper and Lower Egypt I went directly to an oracle. When i asked of what my future held she said "I see death of a wound, a man sits on the throne with a grin, You will be murdered at the age of eighteen." I was depressed to know my end would come in my eighteenth year.
For the next eight years I lived happily with my wife. I was seventeen at this point and knowing death was a year away I went to the oracle again. "Ah" she said "the ghost king returns. What shall you ask of me today Pharaoh?"
I looked into her dark green eyes and said "You told me of my personal future now tell me that of Egypt! What will become of my kingdom?" I asked this with dread and fear as if this answer could mean the end of my home.
She breathed in the hot Egyptian air and said "I see a man from Greece, He shall prove to our people his worth, he shall create a prosperous dynasty." I walked away from this prediction a little happier than before. Then I realized I hadn't asked for any particular time. For months I had pondered this answer with more questions arising. Next thing I knew I was out hunting ostrich with Ay and Horemheb and came home with a wound, caused by Ay's lousy aiming. Before long I had malaria as well then I understood my fate, the wound was no accident this was how I'd die.
I stood in the room of the weighing of the heart in front of the scale and the feather. Next to me stood Anubis, master of mummification, and Amut, the monster that consumes the heart of the damned. My heart weighed against the feather was light and so I traveled to the afterlife. This world after resembled home so much that I could of sworn I never left. Suddenly a man walked into view wearing the typical armor of a Greek. I understood enough of his language to know he was called Alexander the Great. He visited my tomb and praised me, then left. He carried himself like a true son of Horus, a true god among men.
Amenhotep IV, or Akhenaten, was my father's name. As we didn't quite get along I only referred to him by name. There were many reasons I didn't like him. The most prominent being that he tried to completely undermine centuries of tradition. He insisted that Aten, a god of his own creation, was the only god. Father had successfully created a cult in his own kingdom. This monotheistic cult was not one of which I approved, but I put up with it.
Mother was slightly less strict, although being queen of Egypt and my father's wife couldn't be easy. Her name was Nefertiti and she reigned as my father's favorite wife. She, like my father, also pushed for this new religion, but she was more lenient on the subject of worshiping other gods in the palace. She was beautiful, or maybe that is just the blind opinion a young boy has of his mother. They both communicated easily with the Greek delegates.
Following my father's death, and his burial rites that entailed being protected by Aten, my mother fell ill. Once both were deceased, I as the eldest son took to the throne at a young age. After I became king of Upper and Lower Egypt I went directly to an oracle. When i asked of what my future held she said "I see death of a wound, a man sits on the throne with a grin, You will be murdered at the age of eighteen." I was depressed to know my end would come in my eighteenth year.
For the next eight years I lived happily with my wife. I was seventeen at this point and knowing death was a year away I went to the oracle again. "Ah" she said "the ghost king returns. What shall you ask of me today Pharaoh?"
I looked into her dark green eyes and said "You told me of my personal future now tell me that of Egypt! What will become of my kingdom?" I asked this with dread and fear as if this answer could mean the end of my home.
She breathed in the hot Egyptian air and said "I see a man from Greece, He shall prove to our people his worth, he shall create a prosperous dynasty." I walked away from this prediction a little happier than before. Then I realized I hadn't asked for any particular time. For months I had pondered this answer with more questions arising. Next thing I knew I was out hunting ostrich with Ay and Horemheb and came home with a wound, caused by Ay's lousy aiming. Before long I had malaria as well then I understood my fate, the wound was no accident this was how I'd die.
I stood in the room of the weighing of the heart in front of the scale and the feather. Next to me stood Anubis, master of mummification, and Amut, the monster that consumes the heart of the damned. My heart weighed against the feather was light and so I traveled to the afterlife. This world after resembled home so much that I could of sworn I never left. Suddenly a man walked into view wearing the typical armor of a Greek. I understood enough of his language to know he was called Alexander the Great. He visited my tomb and praised me, then left. He carried himself like a true son of Horus, a true god among men.
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