"It is thought that the new finding will give us an insight into the basis of ancient religion. We have Professor Harlow with us today to tell us what this find may mean for History Academics everywhere."
"Thanks for having me, Tracy. The site has been cordoned off and I am travelling out there with a limited number of colleagues and students this coming week. From the images we have already seen we estimate it to be over 5000 years old, older than the ancient Egyptians."
The tent had been uncomfortable, and the night was cold. Lydia awoke with a prayer that she could purchase a pillow. She used her hands to shield her eyes, it was a bright morning, even this early. Her dreams had kept her mind busy in the frigid night, she blamed the excitement of the discovery. The sand reflected the rays, and the campsite was a blur until she reached her sunglasses. Aya had settled in a camping chair with a cup in hand. There was another steaming cup on the table next to her. She looked over her glasses at Lydia and nodded at the empty seat.
‘I didn’t sleep well.’ Lydia groaned.
Aya sipped at her tea, and they sat in silence, taking in their new home.
The whole group amounted to 25 people, professors, students, and academics. The base camp was set up 5 miles outside of the site. They all crowded waiting to mount a camel, Harlow was supervising.
‘This is bringing back memories of my grandfather.’ Aya’s smile was plastered on her face. She had already seen pictures and heard first hand accounts of the discovery.
‘Right listen up everyone,’ Harlow was sat on a camel, he pulled up to face them all and the excited chatter died down. ‘It will take about an hour to get to the site, follow me.’ The camel ride was uncomfortable. The smell reminded Lydia of her childhood days at the petting farm near her house. They were deep into the desert now; they had left civilization behind and were heading toward the history lost in the sands.
‘Harlow, how much equipment have you brought? Can you even run all this out here?’ Lydia had spotted the generators and the equipment tents set up.
‘Only the essentials, Miss Parkes.’ Harlow rode a little further ahead to lead the group.
Aya joined Lydia at the top of the dune, appreciating the view, the dig site where they would live for the next few weeks. Deja vu flooded through Lydia’s mind, she had stood here before and looked upon a great city burning. Drones buzzed overhead, canvassing the area. They both knew work would be slow to start because until the drones had finished mapping, they had no plan. Scholars had been gathering in the nearby cities, predicting what would be found. There were rumours that the Hellenistic religions had started in Libya, but there was no hard evidence supporting this. Yet.
‘I want you two to inspect the edges of that foundation,’ Harlow pointed. ‘We aren’t allowed to start until tomorrow, but jot what you see’.
Lydia followed the orange tape. Aya was drawing a symbol in her book, having already joined the conversation of theories floating around.
‘Anything interesting?’ Lydia got close and saw the scorpion tail staff that Aya was doing her best to copy in her book.
‘This pattern, it’s almost Greek.’ Aya glanced up at Lydia, eyes begging for a second opinion. ‘But the corner here, who is that symbol for?’
Lydia knelt lower, closer to where Aya’s hand caressed the foundation.
‘It’s a staff, they might be scorpion tails, but maybe it was once snakes?’ Lydia glanced at the outline in Aya’s book, little notes scattered around the edge.
‘My grandfather used to tell me tales of a hidden city out here, he compared it to the Lost City of Atlantis. He said they hid themselves when Egypt claimed power.’ Aya sat back and crossed her legs beneath her. ‘Some of the other students were talking about Sumerian origins.’
Lydia took this opportunity to feel the smooth surface of the granite. Most of the pattern had worn off from years of suffering under the sandy terrain. The sun illuminated the gold specks in the tiles.
‘There’s a star around it, around the staff-like symbol, there.’ Lydia outlined the shining sparks with her fingers delicately. The tile started to glow a burnt orange, Lydia recoiled and inspected her hand.
‘That hurt!’
‘What happened?’ Aya had abandoned her notebook and was cradling Lydia's hand. The fiery glow of the tile faded.
‘I don’t know.’ Lydia’s hand stung for the rest of their patrol around the perimeter.
At dinner, they sat with Harlow, their notes and drawings scattered on the table, and they discussed the patterns and the symbols. Lydia picked up Aya’s drawing of the symbol from the tile, she had added a note: caution, hot! Her hand stung again, just at the fingertips now, she felt dizzy. The moon was getting brighter, her head felt heavy on her shoulders. She looked up at Aya, across from her at the table, and fell backward, her head hitting the soft ground.
Harlow was kneeling over her, Aya was on the other side and more students were standing above them, blocking the sky from her vision.
‘Miss Parkes, are you okay?’ Harlow had his hand on her wrist.
‘Yeah, I’m just so tired.’ Lydia attempted to sit, and Harlow offered his hand.
‘Let’s get you off to your tent.’ Harlow held her under her elbow and Aya hurried to help with her other. They guided her to the tent and Harlow bid them goodnight.
‘There were images, flashes, someone came to me, she showed me…’ Lydia drifted off, her hands gesturing in front of her face. ‘There was a temple, and you were there, she looked up at you.’ With this Lydia looked up at Aya, their hands now entwined. Lydia took a breath and continued. ‘That symbol, it was there, on my arm.’ She looked at her arms then, blank. ‘The flames, it might have just been lanterns.’ Lydia’s words dropped off and she was lost in thought. Aya’s face was full of worry, her brows heavy.
The next morning Aya was waiting for Lydia to rise. She had set the table with tea and oatmeal. Lydia joined her at the table.
‘There were stories, of the old gods, using vessels for their advancement.’ Aya announced. ‘I have not heard many stories like this recently.’ She expanded into some of the stories, Lydia had known a lot of them from her studies. If you see the Virgin Mary, you build a shrine for her. Zeus would push his influence by impregnating women. Lydia listened to these examples, considering where Aya was taking this conversation. ‘One woman, she was the same age as my grandmother, was approached by a deity and she spent her life on the street, she never spoke but made the most striking artwork.’
‘So, you think I’m being poached by a great god?’ Lydia giggled at this, a bizarre explanation for a dream.
‘I am just preparing you, offering my insight’.
The ride to the site was just as bright and hot, but the wind blew sand past their faces. Lydia allowed her mind to drift to the princess, the image of Aya. It must have been a temple, there was an altar at the far end and the ceiling reached high toward the stars. A man was standing next to the altar, he exuded danger, an unfamiliar aura surrounded him. He moved suddenly, grabbing the kneeling princess by her hair. Lydia was out of breath, her feet felt as though they had been pounding the ground. She fell to her knees at the bottom of the stairs, being addressed by a man with a large hat and black outlined eyes. Her vision blurred, Lydia was suddenly crowded by people, watching a bleeding figure. The cheering had grown monotonous, Lydia felt her heart increasing, as though it might burst. Sweat had started to bundle on her forehead and a drip fell onto her hand.
‘Are you okay, Lydia?’ Aya placed her water on the table, worry furrowing her brow.
‘Yeah, I am so tired, it feels like I’ve been running the entire night’.
‘Hopefully, we will uncover more on those symbols today.’ Aya rested her hand on Lydia’s shoulder, and they joined the crowd waiting at the taped perimeter. The whole group was roped in to collect pot pieces and brush sand from the larger image on the foundation. Lydia and Aya had stationed themselves close to the symbol they had been studying yesterday. Lydia was jotting down the bits of information that were stuck in her head on a piece of paper.
‘The symbol may be that of protection,’ Aya was sat in the sand flicking through pages. Lydia had a soft brush and was clearing the foundations for the photographer's cataloguing. ‘I think you’re being warned or asked to protect someone’.
‘Like… Horus, or er Neith?’ Lydia had sat back to look at some of the images that Aya was thrusting her way.
‘Serket, represented by scorpions. She is a healer, sometimes a protector, due to her mother Neith.’ Aya had passed the book to Lydia, confidence beaming from her pores.
‘Am I being protected then?’
‘Maybe, perhaps she wants you to protect someone, you said I was there?’ They were both on their knees now, brushing at the antique granite.
‘Oh, she was royalty, I didn’t get a good look, but it felt like you.’
‘Mmmmm,’ she shook her head side to side, ‘Look out for me then.’ She winked at Lydia and moved over to work along the edge they had carved out.
Lydia watched the tile she brushed glow again; her hand felt like an attraction to the tile, and she had no control over her fingers. The heat had started to sting, she was struck with a bout of uneasiness. The nausea pushed her body to the floor and time was slowed. She watched Aya’s reaction and saw every emotion, elation, distress, anxiety, flit across her face.
It was dark.
‘Do you understand me?’ The voice was angelic, heavy on a middle eastern accent. A light materialised, just a dot in the distance, breaking the darkness.
‘Yes,’ Lydia felt her legs beneath her and turned. ‘Yes, I hear you.’
‘You are a protector’ The light grew bolder, brighter than the desert sun.
‘No, no, I’m here to study the ancient city’ Lydia was perplexed. She could not fathom her situation.
‘You will be a protector.’ The voice turned serious; Lydia felt her heartbeat shaky.
‘I can’t protect anyone, I barely make it by myself.' Lydia’s voice felt absent from her mouth, it was high, and it reminded her of her mother. Lydia flinched from a hot poke at her left arm. The burn started slowly but soon Lydia was screaming.
‘You will protect the princess you travel with.’ The light faded, seceding to the darkness.
Lydia woke again. Sun drying her sore eyes. Aya had her hands holding Lydia’s shoulders and drawn close to her face. Her arm was especially uncomfortable. She arose and assured Aya she was okay. They sat under the tent, gulping cold water from the fridge.
‘Lydia! That mark on your arm!’ Aya was high-pitched in shock. Lydia brought her arm up. It was marked with the scorpion tail staff, a deep black, a raw red outlined the tattoo.
‘Aya…’ she paused, with a dramatic deep breath. ‘She said I'm a protector.’
