Visitation - Reality (book 1 of 2)

THE GOD BELIEVERS

“WHAT WAS THAT?” Father screamed out as the vibration from the floor struck through his feet.

“The whole building is shaking apart, what is happening, are the old Gods unhappy with us for changing to the new One God?”

He was panicking now as the fears that had been kept hidden within him surfaced in this moment of panic.

His wife and two sons instantly picked up on his expressed fear and a shock ran through them all. No mention of the enforced change in their religious practices had ever been made since the edict had been issued so long ago; to query the instructions of a half God was unthinkable.

The father had been told quite simply, because of his skills as an artisan in pottery, to travel here with or without his family; there was to be no challenge.

They had all come and despite the imposition on their religious views, their little statues had come with them to be secreted and brought out for private worship; life had become relatively pleasant and food plentiful.

Now the whole family found themselves rushing outside in an abject, fear-filled panic. The other inhabitants, along this tight alleyway, were similarly rushing out of their mud brick dwellings and trying, in the confusing babble of men's' voices and high pitched women's screaming, to make sense of what was occurring.

The inhabitants of the great buildings in this new town also made for the perceived safety of the open air including the Chosen One. Leaving his great decorated palace, he fled with his family into the great open courtyard.

“Look, look,” cried the local baker as he flung himself prostrate on the sandy ground screaming. “May the Gods have mercy on us, may we be allowed to return to the old ways and reject this One God nonsense.”

This was a blasphemy too far and if it had been heard by any of the royal guard who may have been nearby at the time, it would have meant instant death or at least a severe flogging; but he was not the only one.

Many in the street were down on their knees, or prone on their stomachs, rubbing the dirt and dust into their faces and crying out in fear at the terrible sensation of the ground moving beneath them.

 Dogs, howling and barking crazily through the froth from their jaws, were running round wild not knowing in which direction to go. Someone’s donkeys had bolted and those of the population, laid or kneeling in the street had to move quickly to avoid the greater danger of being trampled underfoot to their death.

Moving from the northern horizon and now about to pass overhead, as the shaking continued, was a dark blackness that was rapidly filling the sky and rushing on past those who stood transfixed by the view. Flashes of light, from the thunderbolts of great lighting across the blackness, terrified all even more.

The accompanying trembling of the earth, which developed sudden shakes in random indeterminate directions, only added to the great fear being felt. The ground trembled violently again to lift fine dust into misty clouds that caught and choked the throat that breathed it in; the screaming intensified.

Outside of his palace, the Chosen One, with his advanced education and understanding of all things earthly and heavenward was, nonetheless, visibly shaken by the unfolding events. He remembered this happening once before when, with his older brother, he had lived in the palace of his father, long ago during his rule in the old city.

There had been many deaths then as the blackness had dropped to engulf everything and everyone. His father’s consultations with the priests and his decision, on their advice, to sacrifice all first-born had not been effective.

He had seen the fires built and lit, including the one intended to consume his elder brother and it was then that he had his revelation; the 'understanding' that came to him at that moment never left him. From the image of the leaping flames he heard within the voice of the true God that told him of the true way, the path that he should follow when the opportunity arose. Was that voice real or was it an illusion; worse an aberration of the mind perhaps? It mattered not, the words had been heard and that was all that was relevant.

The time was almost due for the capital city to be relocated, in accordance with the changes to the great calendar cycle, and his father, the Great Ruler, had even started to consider elevating the position of the One Solar God above all the others.

This agreed with the message that the Chosen One had managed to contain within himself since the flames had consumed the dry branches and spoken to him.

His father still ruled and if his elder brother had not fled to avoid the consuming flames, the Chosen One’s time would come sooner than he anticipated; he had to bide his time a little longer.

The Great Ruler had not considered the elevation of the One Solar God and he wondered if it was this omission that had caused the catastrophe to fall upon them at that time?

Was consulting with the priests of the old Gods invoking the wrath of the One God; had killing the entire first born throughout the land in the burning flames made it even worse?

There could only be one God who had rule over all things of this world. This continued invocation of the old Gods, as the Chosen One saw it, could only cause him to rent his wrath upon the transgressors, including his father.

This was also his revelation as he stood before the heat of the burning pile of wood and had waited to see his older brother forcibly thrown into the conflagration. It was apparent that his brother had escaped the flames as he was unable to be found and it had to be assumed that he had fled far away.

The flames stood witness to the mistaken beliefs of the priests and consumed nothing royal; the Chosen One had his revelation here as a young man expecting the worst; he knew what he must do when the time was right and the occasion presented itself.

Word finally came that his brother had indeed fled the land of his family to take refuge with the multitudinous tribes of slave labour settled in the north.

These, the previously wandering tribes of the desert, had also suffered at the hands of the terrible edict and were sympathetic towards him. Many had fled across the delta into the wilderness to escape the Great Ruler’s troops but of the many that had not, they suffered terribly and wanted revenge; it would not be long coming.

The slaughter of so many, the eldest sons of families with now no hope of the future, in both the Great Ruler’s people and the wandering tribes, came back to threaten his life and, even with his troops and royal guard he might not have been able to withstand the entire population of his country baying for his blood.

The Great Ruler moved, or more accurately fled, south to a neighbouring country where, with the suppression and slaughter of the few poorly equipped who had not fled before him but resisted, he was able to claim and record (he liked recording every important thing he did) a great military victory and rest easy, clear of the blackness still engulfing the country further north.

The Chosen One had decided not to depart; he had seen his moment and in the absence of his father, declared that he was the new ruler and that he would immediately sort out the problems.

As he set about determining where the new capital city was to be located, according to the astronomer's previous declarations; he had wanted nothing to do with the old priests who had clearly been wrong in their assertions.

The skies had started to clear, the air had become breathable again, and he openly worshipped the One God whom he ‘knew’ was responsible for their salvation.

He was secure with those troops that had not, in his eyes, deserted south with his father but had been left as his personal guard. In the mistaken knowledge that the people believed he had secured a miracle by communing with his One God, he had pushed forward with his plans.

The new city was located by the Chosen One with the assistance of another revelation during his passage in the desert, alongside the great life-giving river, when the One God had showed him its correct location.

It was completed quickly with forced labour and a mass movement of the Chosen One, his wife, his children, his troops, his astronomers, the people of his land and many of the wandering tribes who wished or were forced to come, had taken place.

This was further to those who had been made to go as slave labour to build the new city, to settle within in and outside in their usual tented villages as they pleased.

Now he was terribly worried. It appeared that history was about to repeat itself with the One God being displeased in some way with him, or was it his people or perhaps something that had taken place; he did not know the reason and it was this making him truly afraid.

He had done everything required to relocate the city according to the ancient calendar and the desert revelation. Life was pleasant, at least for himself, his family and entourage, he had started a renaissance of culture and worship and all had seemed well.

He was aware from the priests recorded history there had been simultaneous devastation once before in the lands to the far north, across the seas, where all those peoples with whom he had traded were now gone. Perhaps the One God had punished them but, maybe, also himself because he had traded with them.

He felt the ground move beneath again his feet. The fine dust rose quickly and he tasted what entered into his mouth; he had to breath and the dust came with each choking breath.

He saw the day turn into darkness and was afraid.

He had also received reports from his envoys in the north that mobs, of both the wandering tribes and those of his own people left behind who did not oppose them, were ransacking what was left in the old cities.

The reports also told him that his brother was leading them in the pillaging; revenge was definitely in the air and taking its toll.

While this was taking place well away to his north, his father, the rightful Great Ruler and the sick and dying man he had become, was a long distance to the south accompanied by his large and loyal army.

The Chosen One felt trapped between them, his father and brother, with his great wishes of observing his responsibilities to the One God now apparently coming to nought.

His beautiful wife was clinging to him and begging for him, as the Chosen One, to talk to the One God quickly lest this terrible scene got worse and they were all killed or sent to the underworld. She was greatly concerned for her children and those of his first wife for whom she cared.

“There is no underworld that we shall ever inhabit in this life or in the next life, control yourself,” he tried to say with a forced air of calmness.

“You know I have been declared the Chosen One by the One God and you have been anointed as my most precious and beautiful wife, a daughter of the One God.”

“We are of his Godly race; we see this in our appearance and in our ability to 'know' each other as others do not. I will consult with him immediately to ask what his intentions are. You will be the first that I shall tell when I have received his true word. Do not enter the palace until I have told you it is safe to do so.”

He continued to converse with himself in an indulgent rhetorical tone.

“Does he mean to destroy this world? I do not think so.”

“We are all his people in this one new city, built where he gave me a sign to build it.”

“He made me his Chosen One and I am blessed by his grace to be his God here on this Earth, am I not?”

The more he spoke, the more convinced he became of the truth in what he said; he was infallible, he only had to say the words to see that for himself.

“This family is all powerful in his eyes,” he stated with the utmost conviction and not a tremble in his voice, “and he will protect us and all the people of this, his city, because I am blessed by him.”

“I shall go into the desert and face the great One God in the beauty of his light and I shall be told what he is planning for us.”

At that he walked away to find his chariot and horses but at the royal stables all was in chaos. The horses had panicked running amok; many had fled out into the desert. Some of the grooms and stable hands had been trampled underfoot and of those still alive, many were crying out in their pain and misery.

Among these remaining grooms, a few steady ones were available but were considered as of no specific value to the Chosen One. He needed his personal chariot, his charioteer, but more importantly, any horse to pull him out into the desert.

There were none remaining so he would have to walk if he wished to enter the desert to the spot where he could consult with the One God.

The desert, as far as could be seen, was turning from day into night. The distant hills were disappearing into the inky blackness of the air, which was becoming foul to the taste and was making breathing difficult.

He could not commune with the One God right away for he could not be seen and this was essential.

The ground shook again and the great blackness drew ever darker and thicker than before and spread outwards in a great rolling mass across this wonderful place. Its speed of movement was remarkably rapid.

The Chosen One knew of the lands beyond the horizon; the direction from which the darkness came. His great country had traded with the peoples there and even his first wife, sadly now no more, owed her beauty to family connections there. What was to become of these distant lands he did not know nor could he imagine?

It seemed possible that the One God had decided to enact some great catastrophe upon them yet again, that was his business, but why include his chosen people led by his Chosen One? This didn’t seem right; he had to talk to the One God as soon as possible.

The Chosen One, in act of bold confidence, strode out into the desert on his own and when some of his royal guard saw him do this, they took heart from his courage and followed.

Not to follow, as was their sworn duty upon pain of death, might also have been a contributing factor. He strode for almost an hour, becoming more confident in his elevated position with each step.

He, who was selected by the one great shining disk in the sky, the One God, would stand before and consult with him in his true brightness and warmth.

He turned to the bright disk that could be seen only dimly through the blackness, closed his eyes and repeated the great hymn that he had learnt as a young man, that all others had failed to realise the significance of, and whose words he had transcribed to his own views and beliefs.

“Hail, the One God,

My true father who dwells in the heavens,

I know you and I know your righteous name.

Your kingdom is before you.

It is here with me, your Chosen One.

I will do your bidding here on Earth.

Let me not fail . . .”

His well understood words faltered as the sky darkened overhead and the light from the great disk started to diminish into the swirling gloom. To compensate for the reduction in the light, he finished his words with a greater volume.

“Why, Oh One God, do you forsake me?

I am your Chosen One?

You reduce your great light upon my being.

Have I transgressed in some way?

Tell me of my sins so I may repent of them before you.”

He repeated the great hymn with even greater reverence and this time in a much louder tone; nothing changed for the better. The sky darkened further and great turbulent grey and black clouds were in the highest heavens.

The lightning bolts once more flashed across them with great thunderous sounds and this instilled a fear, even in the Chosen One.

The people of the city were likewise very afraid and there was a great wailing and a gnashing of teeth. Animals ran crazily, in circles, in and out of the desert, a terrible smell filled the nostrils, of animal and human excrement, of vomiting and of dead carcasses of both animal and human. The ground shook gently again and the dust lifted once more.

In the short time that it may have taken to water the buffalo where any still existed, the air turned cool as the darkness spread firmly overhead. The very air now appeared to be stilled as first the animals and then the people appeared stunned by the sudden change from grey light into a deep darkness; all went quiet.

The Chosen One rushed, as fast as his stumbling feet would carry him over the rocky desert surface, back to his palace and to his very frightened wife.

He made up a story of the One God having spoken to him, but that he could not understand what was being said although he had felt the tone of the words that told of transgression.

It was all nonsense, one part of his thoughts told him, but yet another knew that he must not think like this. To doubt like this would drive him to a madness he had once sensed awaited him; it had to be the fear creeping into his every fibre.

Others must not become aware of his doubts or fears, he was infallible and it must not be any other way.

The more he told the same story, the more he became convinced himself of its voracity; he was lying to himself most successfully. He was a semi-God, descended from the One God and if he simply decided to change his mind, this was how it should be; it would have been ordained. Fears or worries were his private privilege, not to be disclosed.

“Go, tell my people to gather and I will address them. I will tell them that I have spoken with the One God and that all will be well.”

He waived his vizier away with a desultory gesture to reinforce his absolute position. The vizier went out into the town with the few royal guards that were standing strong against this onslaught of the senses.

He was afraid to the same extent as the ordinary people he could find were. To those he found who were babbling incoherently and those with them, he spoke firmly. He spoke his commanding words; he ordered those of the royal guards that were with him to threaten those who ignored him as was their duty.

Some people stopped their incoherent sounds, others babbled on their minds filled with a fear that would not let go. Many ordinary people only ran away, cursing openly.

Suddenly the ground vibrated again, the dust lifted visibly, even in the deepening gloom, people fell over, some buildings cracked open and collapsed killing any unwary enough to be still inside.

A scream went up from someone down at the water’s edge, to be repeated by others also stood there. The vizier hurried to see what this issue was, not worse surely.

There was no great movement of the air at ground level, overhead yes, as the high rolling clouds continued to spread further, but not here by the water’s edge. There however, across the expanse and length of the river, large waves surged in all directions. No one had ever witnessed this disturbance before. This had not been seen even during the annual flooding.

It was if the One God had decided to give the land and the water a great shaking for something that was wrong and not to his pleasure; or was it the old Gods venting their anger?

Some people who had come to the shore, thinking there may be some way that this was safer than staying on the troubled land. They only found themselves suddenly thrown into the water to drown as the land heaved and shook them around.

Then a much larger scream went up from those still on their feet, or at least not in the water, as they pointed towards the river to see, even in this gloom, it start to turn a dark red.

They were deeply afraid, as this was surely a curse from the old Gods for abandoning them, turning the sweet water, which all life depended upon, into blood. The ground shook violently yet again and the redness deepened.

Many people decided to follow the vizier’s commands and his person that was scurrying rapidly in the direction of the royal palace. They all rushed towards the palace of the Chosen One, growing more numerous as others realised what they were doing and joined the growing throng.

The Chosen One was about to have his audience with the people but not in the way he expected.

Standing on his high dais safely above the height of the crowd he spoke down to them.

“Listen to me carefully.”

“No, this is not the work of the old Gods, do not be afraid,” he boldly announced, anticipating the foul mood of the crowd.

“The One God has told me that he will protect us and that all we have to do is understand what it is he is telling us.”

“I am the one chosen to receive his Message; I am the Chosen One.”

“I have spoken with the One God already but we must wait until this darkness subsides when he will tell me of his further wishes.”

“You must not be afraid for the One God will not help you if you are not strong. Be brave and he will guide you and support you. He has told me this.”

A screaming woman shouted out, “We are lost here in this desert place; we should leave before we are all killed.”

Another screamed, “Now we have no water to drink, the blood of the Gods has been released. Let us go home.”

The crowd joined in, “We want to leave, and we must go now. This place is not safe.”

They wanted to say that the One God was not protecting them but the punishment for that would be worse than their current experience.

The presence of the royal guards, even if now many less than the full compliment, armed with their spears and weaponry took a pace towards the crowd. As one, the voices were stilled but not the bodies that continued to tremble in fear.

“I have told you and I will tell you again, I am his Chosen One, I am your God and my word is from the One God,” he raised his voice demanding obedience.

“The One God has told his Chosen One that we must wait. You cannot go. You must stay here with me in his great new city of the One God.”

“The turning of the water to his blood is a sign from him in the darkness, because his light cannot shine on you with these dark clouds.”

“When his shaking of the ground is over and the darkness of the sky is gone, he will tell me what it is we should do.”

“I am his Chosen One, accept my word, do not question. Your belief in me must be without doubt.”

The people were not satisfied and were still very afraid. They were, for the present, more afraid of the repercussions if they were to reject the words of the Chosen One and attempt the long march back to from where they had originally come, the place of their kin.

The Chosen One was called this for good reason; he was chosen, and his word is the truth of the One God spoken through him and any transgressors to this concept would have to be removed most quickly.

It was simply accepted that any attempts to disregard the words of the Chosen One and start a march north would result in being pursued and dealt with in a terminal manner.

The populous did not know that there were no longer any chariots to pursue them or that the numbers of the royal guard were vastly reduced to a state of almost ineffectiveness. For over a week, the greyness held and the people fell ill while they drank and cooked with the only available water supply, from the contaminated river.

The fish of the river died and the people pulled them from the waters, to stop their death making the water even worse, and piled them up in great heaps on the shore. Whatever it was that had been released by the Earth tremors, it wasn’t blood, although they didn’t know that, but they did know it was making them very ill, a few to the point of death.

As the water continued to flow in its northerly direction, as normal, much of whatever was being produced by the disturbance went away towards the old capital cities. Clearer water, from upstream, was slowly starting to replace it. Perhaps the sign had been that this city was indeed chosen, that the One God had made it appear here to punish, not his people here in his city, but back at the old cities which were not worshipping him as they should.

Despite the clearer water, adding to the One God’s sign, there was still a constant dirty red presence, especially at the shoreline, that persisted. The reeds bordering the water were wilting and dying.

Just as it seemed things might be improving, the sky was still darkened during the day and pitch black at night with not the passage of the moon or any of the stars to be seen, the ground started its trembling yet again. This time it developed into a much firmer thumping such that all who stood and were not thrown off their feet felt it through their very person.

Many were thrown down into the dirt where they shook with an uncontrollable fear. This was not just a shaking that lifted the dust and cracked a few buildings but was many times worse. Truly, the One God was responsible but what did it all mean?

These latest tremors had started just as it was judged night-time and many of the disturbed city people were trying to settle down to sleep. A great rumbling from somewhere deep beneath them now accompanied the shaking.

“The One God is shouting at us,” voices started to wail in the dark.

“What have we done wrong, please forgive us,” others attempted to ask.

The cries were heard everywhere, to add to the recurring wailing from many of the poor demented woman. The screaming intensified at each new tremor, and then the wailing became dominant again.

The cacophony of fear echoed through the crowded streets. Some of the men, unable to control themselves or think rationally, joined in a desperate attempt to make the One God hear their cries. A few of the less well built dwellings of mud brick collapsed, some with their occupants still inside.

Suddenly it was noticed that the streets were full of slimy, wet frogs and toads and other crawling things that had come up from the river. It was not possible to move in the dark without stepping upon them.

The people were now becoming increasingly terrified; woman and children ceased their wailing to just scream uncontrollably, joining those of the men who were starting to lose their sanity. Torches were lit and it was clear that anything that lived by the river, the fish were already in rotting, stinking piles, was departing it as quickly as possible.

The city was being over-run with all sorts of creatures as they made their way from the river, through the maze of tightly placed houses, to the desert and there disappear into the darkness.

Something was about to happen, worse than the rumbling deep in the ground, worse than the persisting redness of the river, the smell, the taste of the foul air, the sickness and injuries. Not only the small creatures but also every person in the city felt it.

Some ran after the frogs to disappear into the desert darkness, some were clearly losing their minds, screaming, praying, throwing themselves to the ground, running in circles, being violently ill, all in a terrible random pattern; perhaps in a God driven dance.

It was not only the wet and slimy things that were escaping. As though at some given signal, the millions of insect life forms that lived by the waters, in the reed beds and in the marshy land, took to the air as one.

They had gorged on the rotting carcasses. Maybe it was their state of panic or maybe it was something else that turned all the insects from the normal nuisances and perhaps, the source of illnesses that could be found by the water’s edge, into mad attacking swarms.

Whatever it was, now there was not only slime and mess underfoot but bodies, eyes and every orifice being attacked by mad, crazed insect life; this in the darkness only broken by the few torches that managed to remain alight.

The Chosen One was not immune from this as his palace and its grounds were being over-run and also attacked by the vermin loosed into the air. He could not explain it; it made no sense, why should the One God punish him, of all people, in this manner?

Then with a deafening roar from below, the ground above moved sideways not once but several times in different directions, and everyone still standing were thrown to the ground amongst the slime to join those already there.

The insects went crazy attacking all and everything in sight. They were getting into the grain stores that had not been sealed or were being broken open, ruining the only food that was available. Those citizens that struggled to their feet ran simply amok in a crazy, foul smelling, screaming bedlam that made no sense.

Those amongst the foul smelling, sticky mess spread upon the ground tried to extricate themselves as they attempted to join into the bedlam. Even those that had tried praying had thrown themselves to the filthy ground begging forgiveness.

In their panic they wished they had not done so as a more insidious fate, devoid of forgiveness, trapped them in the mess. All previously rational people became a part of the crazy scene as they were being driven mad by the collapse of all they understood to be true.

The sound of a giant roar came from the direction of the north. The sky seemed to be glowing, a bright red that seemed to flicker somehow. This was so far away that few had any idea from where but now even in this gloom it shone brightly in the very distance.

The air went suddenly quiet, all sound ceased and even the madness subsided for a short while; this again made no sense.

The ground had stopped moving, the dust was even starting to settle but the water life was still moving away from the river as fast as it could and the insects did not stop their vicious attacks.

What was growing in the once well-watered soil was now being attacked by the foul smelling river escapees but also eaten by the insects. In the dark, this could not be seen, but by the morning’s grey gloom, it was clear that many of the populous would starve.

The Chosen One could not show his people how afraid he was, he could not tell them that he had not conversed with the One God because he had not been able to bathe in his golden rays lost in the all-pervading gloom.

The city’s remaining inhabitants were almost in rebellion as they gathered en masse beneath his palace dais.

The royal guard, badly shaken and with their numbers reduced even further, slaughtered because their fright and panic had been seen as cowardice, kept the crowds a safe distance away from the Chosen One in his elevated position.

“I can only tell you, that the One God has not decided yet to tell me of his plans,” he decided to announce.

“I have conversed with him,” he lied, “in the manner with which you may be familiar from the old practices of the unreal Gods before the truth was revealed to me, his Chosen One.”

“These are his actions in dealing with the foreigners many leagues distant, beyond where you can see, where his finger points down from the sky. His wrath is so great that we feel only the edge of the great catastrophe he has inflicted upon those where he points.”

He knew of the great lands upon which he was certain that the One God was inflicting his wrath because of the direction of the great red glow and had to assume what he did not know.

“We must be resilient.”

“We must not be deflected from our duties as citizens on his great city that I, the Chosen One, set out before you according to his wishes, as I was personally told.”

“To help us overcome what is befalling us, I have decided to open the reserve grain stores because I am aware that much damage has been done to yours and the grain in the fields has all but been eaten or spoiled beyond use.”

“Go to the stores, take a basket of grain and make bread to live by. The One God has spoken to me to tell me this is what you must do.”

“Now obey his commands quickly and return to your homes, make the repairs you can. What you see around you will soon pass and we will know of the glory of the One God.”

He was bluffing but he needed to give them something to believe. He knew himself that the words he chose were false but he stood before them as the Chosen One and his sense of righteousness calmed his own nerves. He had to believe his own words, why not, the One God was surely speaking through him.

The people rushed to the granaries, filled their baskets as quickly as possible and then dispersed home, encouraged by the spears of the royal guard. This false optimism did not last long for soon yet another disaster was upon these people.

It had seemed for a short while as though the gloom might actually be lifting but the dark skies were turning a strange grey colour.

It became as though a storm of fine choking dust was descending from the skies. Dust storms were not unusual in this desert place but the fine sandy dust did not taste like this strangely coloured grey stuff nor fall from the skies, a lot of it in small sharp lumps.

It was settling everywhere, contaminating the available water even more so and filling people’s mouths and eyes.

The crops of the fields were now covered in something of a fine grey dust, the wet ground in which they had once grown bountifully, had turned into a sticky grey mess, making any harvest or collection of the valuable grain, still living after the insect’s damage, completely impossible.

This next disaster seemed to come from out of the desert from where a terrible deep rumbling sound had also been heard. Some people swore they saw the mountains move, what they could see of them. The ground here had moved but only like the first time with a lifting and settling of the grey dust. A noise had been heard but this had been far away, through the desert, past the mountains to the Great Sea.

The animals that had been collected, as affairs were starting to settle and the daylight reappeared through the high grey clouds, were suddenly falling ill. Many were out away from the city, in what was left of the green marshy land near the water and others in the scrub of the desert.

Those in the desert seemed to be afflicted first but they all appeared to be subject to something that could not be seen. They developed sores of their mouths; they became unsteady on their feet and of those that were in calf, nearly all miscarried before falling over, never to stand again.

The air did not taste right but no one could put a name to it. Confusion and upset amongst the people and the Chosen One, was increasing by the same rate that the boils on the skin were appearing.

The eyes were badly affected; some went blind in a terrible agony. Searing pain stopped most of the wailing as mouths became increasingly choked with the taste of the grey dust. It was causing bleeding and the rapid development of large sores. The initial small irritable boils were turning into angry swollen ones as the dust tore at the flesh of their mouths. They started to appear on tongues in people’s mouths making drinking the foul tasting water even more of a problem.

The local beer, which was always safe to drink and was normally preferred to simple water, was no longer palatable; it could not be brewed properly as the yeast would turn bad and only a foul smelling mix be the result. The older folk were more susceptible than most, but they were faring better than the infants and the children who were starting to die almost as quickly as the first Great Rulers purge of the first-born's.

The distant sky suddenly turned a strong crimson colour, even at such a distance, and a further great blackness could be seen spreading out from it and again coming in this direction. The greyness of the skies and the coldness it produced were just starting to reduce.

The Chosen One thought that at least he would be able to see the One God in all his bright, shining glory but he also now saw that further misery was on its way.

It didn’t take long for the shaking of the ground to start once more, this time more violent than ever; great cracking noises and rumblings could be heard deep in the ground and again in the direction of the Great Sea beyond the mountains.

The screaming and mad uncontrollable panic barely brought to a halt, started again. This time with a weakness that betrayed the illness and poor condition of these people who had endured so much for so long.

The shaking subsided slightly, the grey and sandy dust, now floating as deep as the housetops, created a sort of mist that was only ever seen occasionally on the river in the very early morning. This choking mist, however, caused people to collapse, gasping for breath as it was inhaled.

The Chosen One was almost a broken man when another miserable crowd managed to assemble outside his palace, just as the impending darkness came overhead and took nearly all the grey light away. Lighting torches didn’t seem to help too much as they wouldn’t burn properly; something was terribly wrong with the foul air.

The Chosen One did not come to greet the crowd but stayed within his palace wondering what it was that he had done to offend the One God. Surely, he could not be mistaken about his certain belief and understanding of the One God, it seemed so evident, and to all these people of the city who had come with him.

How could he countenance doubting himself after all this time and his certain convictions? His stability was weakening and his mind was developing a turmoil he could not control. The more he doubted his convictions the less stable he was becoming; the reduced stability only made his doubting more intense.

The construction of the city in the good years had depended upon a big labour force. There had been plenty available in the wandering desert tribes that had settled years previously and they had been taken great advantage of, as was the custom, whether they wished to be or not.

Yes, they were no more than a labour force, sometime treated harshly, but they persisted in what they did, returning to their tents at night where their wives tended the few goats they had and where they provided sustenance.

These tribes had mostly built the new city from the readily made clay brick, with which they were so familiar, including some at the royal palace, although the temples to the One God and the Chosen One were all in stone, as was only befitting his exalted position as a semi-God.

The tribes-people were suffering almost as badly as the indigenous city people were, although they did not live in solid houses which fell about their ears, and had concluded that it was better to return to the desert than stay to suffer the miserable death which was surely overtaking them.

The darkness covered the city and all around and for as far as the eye could see. The air became cold and even more pungent and difficult to breathe in. All of the youngest infants, those not yet weaned, suddenly started dying with terrible choking fits. Some of the younger children, normally active, were rising only from their sick beds to make one last gasp of air before falling back dead.

Pandemonium broke out and a last appeal to the Chosen One was made, this time by a mob with violence in their dying minds.

The Chosen One knew that he had to appear and talk to his dying people in a last attempt to avoid total disaster for himself and his family. He may have his convictions keeping reign on his doubts, but pragmatism was now all that was required to ensure his survival.

“I hear you, my people, but I do not hear the One God,” he offered.

“He has not betrayed us, I assure you,” he tried.

“He has been concealed by the dark clouds and the darkness that have fallen upon us, all of us, including myself, the Chosen One of the One God.”

 “I have considered deeply what we must do to seek salvation from this disaster about us, to reach a vision of the One God. I have been deep in prayer to him as I once did to the old Gods.”

These last words brought small warmth to many hearts. The old Gods had been mentioned, and the Chosen One had been in prayer in the old way, an admission which had the desired effect.

“We will leave this city,” he continued knowing that these words would seal his fate, but a living fate, not the death that may be coming.

“We must abandon these great works, and seek the clear sky, the vision of the One God, and we must leave immediately.”

“He has told me to lead my people out of this death riven desolation.”

These words did not bring much warmth and in many only provided an existence to a great hatred that dare not otherwise reveal its face. After all the pain and misery of such a long time, it seemed as though the Chosen One was admitting that he had been wrong all along.

“Where are we to go, all is black?”

“The world is lost, we are dying.”

“Where are we to go?”

The crowd pleaded pitifully for answers as they could barely raise their voices without choking.

The Chosen One replied slowly and carefully.

“We shall march north towards the end of the Great Sea to cross into the clean desert on the other side.”

“The One God will protect us, He will be with us and will show us the way when we are closer to His great infliction on all others.”

“Though we shall walk in the shadow of his darkness, fear not for He will protect us and He will be with us to give us comfort and assurance.”

“I shall repent to the One God when I see Him next and ask for forgiveness for all my peoples including all those who gave their life in the building of this fine new city of His that we must now leave.”

“When His wrath on others has been vented, He will remember his people and guide us further to a new place out of the desert, to a clean place, full of beauty, lush pastures besides clear sweet streams and where plentiful food grows all year.”

He knew this last part was a lie because he believed he knew that where the blackness spreading over everything came from.

He was aware that this was much further away than any of the ordinary people could understand. He knew that it would be over the horizon even if he had stood on the sea shore by the great river delta.

He had stood there many times and was even aware of the peoples over the horizon of the sea that had become a challenge to the empire of which was the supreme leader, and now the Chosen One.

His first wife had travelled from those parts and had told him many stories of the great civilisation that rivalled his own.

The people were split in opinion at his announcement. Some could see no sense in marching towards the glowing red in the darkness of the sky and wanted to run in the opposite direction.

Many determined that they were lost anyway because they would not have the strength for such a journey, so they simply wandered with crying and wailing out into the desert towards the mountains, which they could no longer see, to suffer the solitary death that they had now chosen.

Others, who would follow him hurried to gather their few possessions, abandon their homes and the death that now lurked within.

The infants suffered and succumbed to death most of all; the elderly and many of the young children followed in increasing numbers. There seemed no time and no point in observing the previous traditions of wrapping and burial.

There were none of the old priests with the Chosen One; they had been abused, removed of their power, of most of their possessions, and any items of great value. They had stayed in the old cities, so who was there carry out the preparation and the old rites here in this miserable existence.

Leave quickly and just go was the only thought to believe in by those that remained attending to the Chosen One. If he said march north towards ‘God’s finger’, which no one had actually seen, the Chosen One must know what no one else did, better go with him. He would make sure that he didn’t die, so the chances of the ordinary person’s survival seemed far greater in his presence than elsewhere.

The loose tribes had already dismantled their tents and were starting to move when the Chosen One departed his palace on foot with his family and entourage. The wandering tribes knew that to the north was their own kind. They believed meeting up with them was a preferable option for if they were to die, better with their kin than lost in this worst of hells.

The Chosen One's special and beautiful wife and their children were sufficiently fit to travel by the single chariot left from the stables although the horses were suffering badly. A few more had been collected, coming back to the stables for food and these could replace those that were expected to succumb on the long journey.

There was one item that he most certainly had no wish to leave behind; the fantastic machine that he had taken from the priests back in the old city before he set off to occupy this new one he was now on the point of abandoning.

He had been initiated and taught all there was to know of the old religion by his father’s priests, including the use of the machine and how to keep it supplied with the particular fuel it needed.

He had used almost all the fuel remaining within it to assist with the larger stone constructions of his new city. He knew that to obtain more was a long march but, as he kept to himself, this was in the direction he had just chosen. He knew where he was going and what he was doing, if only he could reach his objective.

His plan was a simple one. They would march north towards the vision of the One God’s wrath, past the old cities avoiding contact lest the remaining priests come after him with the remainder, if any, of the old army.

He would take his people with him, crossing over to the desert on the far side of the Great Sea after which he knew that they would continue to follow him, believing again what he said and allow him to reach his true objective.

He knew there was a possible route to reach the desert avoiding contact with the northern tribes but only if the waters of a canal from the Great Sea to the Salt Lake at its northern end, he had once sailed along in a royal barge, were well silted; they usually were every year.

It would be most unlikely for any clearing work to have been done in the last few years, with the previous disaster of his father's time having struck the old city people as much as this new one had struck himself. He had certainly not ordered any dredging during his reign and as no one did anything without the Chosen One having considered it first, it was a certainty that the silting up had not been addressed.

He had to go into the desert on the other side of the Salt Lake, keeping away from the northern coast, and then go down through the apparent wilderness, to an area he knew well. He had ridden through this several times in the past to reach the one source of the machine’s fuel that he had been told about and then shown, by the old priests.

This could be found on the top of a high mountain where it had been manufactured for centuries; sometimes it was said, with the help of God himself; the One God he hoped.

Neither the people that the Chosen One ruled over nor his own family knew of this place. It was a secret normally kept by the priests only and he was of the few great leaders ever to have it disclosed to him.

As a young man in his father’s day, approaching at some future date the taking of his rightful position as the supreme leader or following more likely in his older brother’s footsteps, he had shown great intellectual insight.

One old priest, impressed greatly by this, had initiated him, not only into the deep secrets of which he should be aware, but also those, of which he should not. This included the sacred place where the machine’s fuel was made and kept hidden.

The Chosen One knew exactly where he should go to seek a new powerful beginning, that place visited some years before with the old priest. This time he had the powerful machine to hand, of which only he knew its potential when fully refuelled.

The machine would ensure his safety and survival if only he could reach the special mountain location before the priests of the old cities, the ones that he had snubbed so badly in forming his new and the only true religion of the One God, with himself as the Chosen One.

These priests of the old religion may decide to confront him as he passed within their reach, if they knew where he was.

He wasn’t too sure of his last and most beautiful wife either, nor of his sons, and he expected them to make a dash, at some point, for the old world that he had left behind.

He was happy taking his chosen route and was unconcerned for their prospects now; the young sons could take the same chance he had once, it may make men of them if nothing else.

He knew that his other children would simply follow their natural or adoptive mother to whom they were greatly attached.

The one thing he knew for certain was that he had to protect his own life by ensuring that he stayed secreted amongst the mass of refugees. These were formed in a loose agglomeration of both his own people and those of the wandering tribes of labourers.

He must take the shortest route to the deserts on the far side of the Great Sea and Salt Lake. Not the one which his enemies may think he might take, that of travelling north straight up to the delta onto a coast route where following it would bring him almost to the Asiatic tribes' areas.

Turning south at his chosen point of crossing would see him into open desert, but this was not what he had planned at all. The option of travelling far north risked almost certain detection by the rebellious tribes there and his brother's marauding outlaws who he most certainly wished to stay away from.

Such a distance did not make sense when his true objective was south on the other side of the Great Sea towards the source of the fuel for his machine.

It was clearly essential that he also changed his name so that if this was heard by any outside of this collection of tribes, especially those who may decide to seek him, it would not be recognised except as just one man’s name amongst many.

He was desperate now to save his life; otherwise the words of the One God spoken to him, the Chosen One, might be lost forever.

In any case he did not want to die, either by the terrible wrath of a suffering people or by those who may be intent upon revenge and the return of what he had taken from them.

He had a further concern for remaining concealed from his elder brother, who by all accounts and from the last reports received before the great catastrophe had started, was still leading the warriors of the wandering tribes on their rampage through the remains of the old civilisation.

The current situation may make their thoughts turn only to survival, but if his brother was aware that he was in reaching distance he may come looking for him with murder in his heart.

His wife and children were most unhappy with his decisions. They and those close to them in the court were told in the firmest manner that they must go along with what he said, they had no choice, and his words must not be queried. He was now a great leader, for a while, to the wandering tribesmen who upon his brother’s instruction may gladly kill them all. As soon as the old city was within reach they would be all free to leave him, if they survived that long.

The Chosen One believed his chances of survival were greater if the tribes, with which he would now form an alliance and travel, did not meet those of the north. If his plan was successful then it would be most unlikely for them to encounter any of the northern tribes.

From being the Chosen One he made the decision to change his name to ‘Son-of’, an innocuous sounding and very ancient name that many of the great rulers preceding him had included in their own name from time to time.

This was also not uncommonly found amongst the language of the ordinary tribes-people. He would become one of the wandering tribe and lead them to a safe life; this would protect his own.

He reasoned that if the promise of life was delivered by his hand then his chances of being defended by these people were greatly increased to the betterment of his survival prospects. His title, the Chosen One, would at some time in the future, come back to him if he could only but take hold again of his once mighty empire.

Now he was simply become the ‘Son-of’, and a wandering tribe leader. He adopted their style of dress, removing his royal garments and giving away them and all of the gold that adorned them, in return for some of the tribes’ ordinary clothes. There was no shortage of offers for clothing considering what was being offered in return.

He offered a lot of the gold that he had brought out of his old capital city and for this they promised on oath to let him appear as one of them and even carry his most treasured possession, the stolen fantastic machine. Only he knew its true potential and this must not fall into his brothers or the sacked priests’ hands.

His new garb with its great hood even hid his elongated head which only the royal families, descended from the Gods, inherited and with his blackened face was now well hidden. Giving away the grain that had been well protected in the stores to anyone who wanted some had also proved a most popular and now useful tool for survival.

The mixture of free people and wandering tribes, several thousand strong, that he had told were now also free people were all about him. As the tribes in their history had been wandering shepherds, and were once named after this, he took what appeared to be an ordinary staff in his hand to look as though he was really amongst and one of them.

The daily skin scraping, to remove the facial hair, declaring that he came from a royal family, had also been abandoned and he had the makings of the kind of beard seen amongst some elders of the tribes.

Amongst these people was a good place to be; his time for open leadership would come again soon enough. The long march north towards the red and black in the sky of the One God’s wrath was under way.