Excerpt from Eternal Traces, Part 1 of the ETERNAL TRACES series.
Why is it when death is near, the weather is never good? Nitocris thought to herself. It was so hot that it gave the fear in her mouth a sweet, raw flavor. She was tickled to feel any emotion. It had been a month since she had felt anything other than anger and revenge. She knew it was the end. It was only fitting her body matched her soul; she’d been dead on the inside for nearly four weeks. Nitocris was nothing more than an empty shell of hatred, the same hatred that had blinded her and allowed her to be used as a vessel to kill with no regard or mercy. Little did they know, they were doing Queen Nitocris a favor by putting an end to her physical being.
“Queen Nitocris, pledge your loyalty!” Smenkhkara, the pharaoh, demanded. Nitocris stared, searching his face for any reasonable clue that justified all of the deception. She stared until the sweat dripping down from her forehead stung her eyes. It forced her to blink. She opened her eyes in the direction of her sister, Nefertiti, whose body lay beaten and lifeless on the floor. Defeat began to emerge and take root. Nitocris now realized that the sweet, raw flavor in her mouth was not fear but her own blood. The blood was backing up into her mouth from internal bleeding.
“I will not marry you,” she said trying to sustain defiance in her dying voice, “and I will not pledge my loyalty to your kingdom. You have no honor, and you have condemned everything you’ve touched. You will contend with the Creator for your soul. Upon death, your soul must weigh less than the feather of truth. We both know that you have told too many lies and caused too many deaths. A hundred men could not bear the weight of it. Your soul will never be permitted to enter Heaven. You will never take human form again.”
Nitocris felt the blood pooling in her mouth, forcing her to choke on her last words. She refused to give the pharaoh the dignity to hear her cough in pain, so she spit the blood out onto the sandy ground before his feet.
“There will be no alliance with the Nubians. This truth will remain. The only thing I can pledge is that you will die by my hand. I will send you to the Creator to be judged, on my honor.”
Queen Nitocris saw the pharaoh signal the guard to her left. She heard a swoosh—a clean cutting sound and felt a small breeze. It was over; her end had finally come, and she was free from physical form to live again.