Wake Up, Baby, It Was Just A . . .

Now awake, I told my hellmare, and Kheba was quite right in her take: It was more than dream mixed with cream of dæmons. No, twas phantastical vision and that, with frightening precision. Through time and space, could Bast now slither and lace herself? Had she gained such power? Certainly not from her ill-fated tower! But how now? Kheba, daughter of Dyēus, one of the Tri-Mater, actually looked shaken! I’d been crooked into the isolated presence of Bast, who’d cast me into her unholy royal chamber … right out of the arms of Kheba and her protection from harm! Tears streamed down her light brown skin, but what could smear such beauty? Still, as she wrapped herself around me, bound me fast to take away the last of my terror, my heart broke for her — for Kheba — like a stroke to the inner core of my spirit, and I bore her burden with her without fully knowing the burden (and almost surely showing my ignorance.)

Smooth diorite walls and halls, finely intermixed with divinely decorative lapis lazuli surrounded us, with profoundly long, large tables of shining marble along the sides, strong but radiantly soft, holding aloft plants and flowers of myriad kind with their silent chant of life and peace and joy — nothing here to annoy — and the bed worthy of royalty said clearly we were more than welcome. The home of Metuşelah and Lemek was our home, as well (what was so easy to tell.) Yonder was silver pitcher of fine wine, another of clear cool water from courtyard pool, and two bejeweled goblets; bell to ring to tell servants to come from their rooms to resume their task of fulfilling our needs, basking in the glory of guest goddess. Refreshing breeze blew silently through our room, but darkness loomed, darker than the darkness of night … the blight of evil darkness … live-evil. And Kheba marked the dark as Bast, who’d cast her presence into this time and space, but showing her face only to me without her mother to see.

Kheba stared out one of the paired arched openings at the palms calmly dancing, swaying to and fro, back and forth with no lack of encouragement from the gentle wind to slightly bend their bodies in sightly beauty as if in answer to some divine duty. “Nothing here will change,” she practically whispered. “We cannot rearrange; Tariqah is still dead … her head severed by sword from horde of wild Watchers.” Kheba’s voice trailed off, but not before she nailed me with eyes. “She cannot alter history, nor must we falter in our reaching your soul and teaching you, for you are clay and we the potter — we the Tri-Mater — under watchful eye of Dyēus who does spy everything, but…” She looked away and brooked not the terrible subject for which she could confect no answer. Did her father know, yet never bother to show, or had God become so slow? “She got to you and I never knew she could reach so far and breach the barrier being the carrier of such evil… Bast has grown stronger in ability, has greater mobility, and certainly not less in hostility.”

I shivered despite the warm air of night and pressed in closer to the might of Kheba … but why? She would keep me safe, but could she? This was the question now, and I had to bow to the ruthless truth that Bast had quite possibly become as powerful as Kheba somehow. And now what of Maftet and Ma’at from whom I’d sought refuge? And Sélená so bright; could she smite Bast and cast her back to dungeon gloom, her own living tomb? Ah … what had transpired to mire us in such dire straights?

Oh Dyēus on high, fly swiftly to our side and stay ever-so nigh!

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Kheba: Pages From Forgotten Ages II

“These good people you see have know tragedy and misery,” Kheba continued walking me along the streets, talking about this strange and ancient place, explaining the mysterious story I saw written in every face. “Only two generations ago, the Watchers blew through this city and all her surrounding fields, and practically drowned the people in blood, ground their communal life into dust, and the sound that issued forth was one of the most terrific, horrific cries of fear and pleas for mercy ever heard before or since; the tears were blood, sweat, and bile piled ten miles high.”

Then we rounded another corner, this one bounded by exquisite marble, and spied the two tried and true warrior-heroes: Metuşelah and Lemek, both young and hearty, strong and ruddy, sturdy, rough and tough in demeanor, yet also obviously clever achievers and relievers of their people. And Metuşelah looked barely older than Lemek, which I told her in whisper tone, but the two men seemed to hear as if they were as near as she, and so kindly laughed as to wash away all my fear. Their physique was so sleek and shimmered with enchanting mystique, gazing upon them burned my cheeks and churned my heart; I lowered my face so not to further debase myself. Kheba wove her arm in mine and boldly marched me forward toward these two most handsome demigods.

“These are the two who led the battle against the Watchers, and bled their own blood to save so many knaves against the Fallen Ones, though they had brave friends in the fight, who would not bend their knees or bow their necks to such horrendous sight and blight of evil!” At this Metuşelah and Lemek did slightly bow forward toward Kheba in an authentic attitude of humble gratitude for her laudatory remarks, but themselves would not embark upon their own praises. “This is why grandfather named this man, his son, Metuşelah, meaning ‘he shall bring death,’ and in turn father named this man, his son, Lemek, meaning ‘lamentation;’ for surely did Dyēus foresee the awful lacrimation coming in the fractionation and devastation of this city and whole region, swept over by legions of dæmons, bothers of the Watchers who fathered the Nephilim, whore beasts who made feast on human flesh.”

Metuşelah stoutly stepped out from behind an unadorned woodwork table, and ably embraced me in cultural fashion of greeting, so powerful, upon meeting the welcome stranger, assuring me there was no danger here. And Lemek followed his father, hugging me nearly like brother … perhaps more, to adore. But even this left me nothing less to abhor in the images now running through my mind, like cunning devils to bind my thoughts to stark darkness, which I marked with disgust and determination, insisting on resisting within myself. The playful squeals of children in the background, abounding in cheer, found its way into my soul and helped drive away the drear thoughts brought along by Kheba, though she never sought to depress me nor repress light and joy.

“What is so complexly perplexing and frustrating, leaving us prostrating in prayer, is the continued presence of the Rephaim,” Lemek spoke in smooth baritone voice, choice words in perfect timing, though it would seem I knew nothing of these Rephaim. But with gleam in his eye, Lemek would tell me something, happily leading me inside cool home with small pool filled with clear cool water for refreshing oneself from beat of overwhelming heat; treasured sight for eyes to meet when one felt so torn and over-borne with exhaustion. Lemek bid me enter, as did he, Metuşelah and Kheba … and found it best to rest in quiet for awhile. Then goddess Kheba began to speak again, to pull together what so far I’d gained in knowledge…

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Metuşelah — In the Hebrew scriptures (Old Testament), one of the ancient patriarchs descended from Adam and his so, too, Seth; also the grandfather of Noah in the biblical narrative; Metuşelah, or Methuselah, is said to have lived for 969 years; also importantly, the name Methuselah comes from two roots: muth, a root that means “death” ; and from shalach, which means “to bring,” or “to send forth.” Thus, the name Methuselah signifies, “his death shall bring.” (Cf. Jones, Alfred, Dictionary of Old Testament Proper Names; Pink, Arthur W., Gleanings in Genesis; Stedman, Ray C., The Beginnings, Word Books.)

Lemek — In the Hebrew scriptures (Old Testament), the son of Metuşelah and father of Noah; Lemek, or Lamech, is said to have lived 777 years; also importantly, the name Lamech, a root still evident today in our own English word, “lament” or “lamentation;” suggests “despairing.” (Koinonia House, Churck Missler, “Meanings Of The Names In Genesis 5,” as accessed October 4, 2015)

The Watchers — “According to the book of I Enoch the watchers were angels who fell from heaven and changed the order of their nature by lusting after and fornicating with women, thus corrupting the sons of men and prompting the great flood… The book of Jubilees affirms the identification of the heavenly watchers, and adds that the watchers violated the law of their ordinances when they lusted after women, their polygamous relationships with women produced monstrous offspring… The Qumran literature contains similar accounts of these watchers.” (G. W. Bromiley, ed. The International Standard Bible Encyclopedia, Volume Four: Q-Z, 1024)

Nephilim — The monstrous offspring of the Watchers; the giants of the land mentioned in the sixth chapter of Genesis in the Hebrew scriptures (Old Testament). Somehow possibly related to the Rephaim?

Rephaim — The Rephaim are known from biblical, Ugaritic, and Phoenician sources. In the Bible two uses of the term are discernible. The first is as Gentilic, referring to a people distinguished by their enormous stature… In its second use Rephaim designates “shades” or “spirits” and serves as a poetic synonym for metim. It thus refers to the inhabitants of the netherworld. This second meaning is also found in Phoenician sources. (Encyclopedia Judaica, “Rephaim,” as accessed October 4, 2015; cf. also Wikipedia, “Rephaite,” as accessed October 4, 2015)

Please Note: Characters, places, events (historical or legendary) have been recast in these poetic narratives. However, end-of-entry descriptions and definitions are valid, being derived from legitimate, trustworthy sources, and offered to the reader for her/his own interest and knowledge. First Photo, “Beware the Watchers,” by  Shadoweddancer; Second Photo, “Warrior,” by illuminatedmind; Third Photo found at www.thetruthnews.com