slab. She pushes against it, but it doesn’t budge. She slams her shoulder into the rock, but it makes no difference.
The feeling of being trapped overwhelms her for a moment, and Aniya searches frantically for another way out. There is none. The room is circular, cut into the very heart of the pyramid. She remembers coming here once before when she was newly married to Akhenaten. She remembers the feeling of pride when she noticed how ornately her burial chamber was to be decorated. She didn’t think it would be filled so quickly with herself.
But I’m not dead. How can I can be dead and still be here?
Aniya looks around and notices the walls covered in paintings depicting her travel through the Duat. Aniya still has not learned many of the hieroglyphs covering the walls, but she recognizes one she saw earlier that morning when she bit into the apple. Ka, the soul. Next to it is the symbol Ankh. Life. The two markings are not painted, but etched directly into the stone wall. They glow with the same bright intensity as the shabti, and Aniya wonders why. She says the words aloud and presses her fingers against the symbols, looking for some hint that can help her escape when the wall shifts beneath her hands. She takes a quick step away as she watches the bright blue outline of an arch appear and then takes another step back as the stone of the wall disappears and an opening emerges.
She looks into the space beyond the door, but sees nothing beyond the initial blue glow of the stone opening. Beyond the threshold is nothing but black.
Aniya looks into the abyss for a long while. She searches the room for another door, for more symbols of life and soul, but sees nothing but the paintings that show her journey through the Duat, the realm of the dead on her journey to the afterlife. Although the pictures are meant to be of her, they look nothing like her. She knows they are the same for everyone, and that somehow gives her comfort. Surely others have gone through that door.
She pays more attention to the symbols, and though she can not discern the actual words from the writing, she notices that they seem to show the steps of her journey. The queen, surrounded by her servants is carried on a grand settee through the underworld. They brandish swords and torches. A river lies in their way, and they board a barge. Monsters from the deep attack, but the soldiers keep them at bay.
Soldiers. Maybe it would be a good idea to have some come along when she steps through that door. She turns back to the shabti she left on the floor. They are meant to be her soldiers and protectors in the afterlife. Maybe she could use them somehow.
She picks one up from the floor and holds it in her hand. Her mind reaches out for magic she can use to transform the shabti into a living, breathing servant, but there is nothing. If there is magic in the shabti, she can not use it.
“This is stupid,” she says aloud to the clay resting in her hands and places it back on the floor. She isn’t careful enough and too much force causes the shabti to fall over on the floor. Aniya grimaces when she hears a crack and lifts the shabti up to find one of its little fingers has broken off.
“I’m sorry,” she says aloud before she realizes she’s apologizing to an inanimate object. She lifts the finger up and tries to affix it back onto the figurine, but it falls back to the floor. When she picks it up for a second time, she sees writing on the shabti’s back. A closer look shows her again the symbol Ankh, life.
She touches it. Nothing happens. She knows this symbol is powerful - something should happen. She rattles her brain to remember what she did to open the hidden door. She touched the symbols. She read them aloud.
Aniya puts her hand to the back of the shabti and says the word aloud. “Ankh.” Life.
The hard, red clay grows soft in her hands and begins to move on its own. Aniya drops it on the floor once again with a yelp and the figure lands
The feeling of being trapped overwhelms her for a moment, and Aniya searches frantically for another way out. There is none. The room is circular, cut into the very heart of the pyramid. She remembers coming here once before when she was newly married to Akhenaten. She remembers the feeling of pride when she noticed how ornately her burial chamber was to be decorated. She didn’t think it would be filled so quickly with herself.
But I’m not dead. How can I can be dead and still be here?
Aniya looks around and notices the walls covered in paintings depicting her travel through the Duat. Aniya still has not learned many of the hieroglyphs covering the walls, but she recognizes one she saw earlier that morning when she bit into the apple. Ka, the soul. Next to it is the symbol Ankh. Life. The two markings are not painted, but etched directly into the stone wall. They glow with the same bright intensity as the shabti, and Aniya wonders why. She says the words aloud and presses her fingers against the symbols, looking for some hint that can help her escape when the wall shifts beneath her hands. She takes a quick step away as she watches the bright blue outline of an arch appear and then takes another step back as the stone of the wall disappears and an opening emerges.
She looks into the space beyond the door, but sees nothing beyond the initial blue glow of the stone opening. Beyond the threshold is nothing but black.
Aniya looks into the abyss for a long while. She searches the room for another door, for more symbols of life and soul, but sees nothing but the paintings that show her journey through the Duat, the realm of the dead on her journey to the afterlife. Although the pictures are meant to be of her, they look nothing like her. She knows they are the same for everyone, and that somehow gives her comfort. Surely others have gone through that door.
She pays more attention to the symbols, and though she can not discern the actual words from the writing, she notices that they seem to show the steps of her journey. The queen, surrounded by her servants is carried on a grand settee through the underworld. They brandish swords and torches. A river lies in their way, and they board a barge. Monsters from the deep attack, but the soldiers keep them at bay.
Soldiers. Maybe it would be a good idea to have some come along when she steps through that door. She turns back to the shabti she left on the floor. They are meant to be her soldiers and protectors in the afterlife. Maybe she could use them somehow.
She picks one up from the floor and holds it in her hand. Her mind reaches out for magic she can use to transform the shabti into a living, breathing servant, but there is nothing. If there is magic in the shabti, she can not use it.
“This is stupid,” she says aloud to the clay resting in her hands and places it back on the floor. She isn’t careful enough and too much force causes the shabti to fall over on the floor. Aniya grimaces when she hears a crack and lifts the shabti up to find one of its little fingers has broken off.
“I’m sorry,” she says aloud before she realizes she’s apologizing to an inanimate object. She lifts the finger up and tries to affix it back onto the figurine, but it falls back to the floor. When she picks it up for a second time, she sees writing on the shabti’s back. A closer look shows her again the symbol Ankh, life.
She touches it. Nothing happens. She knows this symbol is powerful - something should happen. She rattles her brain to remember what she did to open the hidden door. She touched the symbols. She read them aloud.
Aniya puts her hand to the back of the shabti and says the word aloud. “Ankh.” Life.
The hard, red clay grows soft in her hands and begins to move on its own. Aniya drops it on the floor once again with a yelp and the figure lands
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