“Archos!” A man yelled from outside the temple. He was excited, dangerously so, as he spoke before clearing the overhanging entrance of the temple’s walls.
The Egyptian Pharaoh stirred to life out of his relaxed state and stared towards the temple entrance. He stood up slowly and the man fell to his knees and placed his hands over his face.
“Pharaoh Archos please I have news to bear.”
The Pharaoh just stared intently, the two men on his side waiting for his order.
“Your news better be plentiful.” The Pharaoh reclined back to the seat in the middle of the temple, brushing off the women around him. They scampered away accordingly. He pulled his nemes off his head and onto a gold pedestal by his side. The servant glanced around the temple walls nervously.
“My time is valued servant, proceed with this news.”
“Yes, we found it.” The pharaoh paused. After a brief moment he lifted himself out of the seat and stepped forward. He arched his back up- right into the servants face.
“If you dare come in HERE and force LIES into my temple I will remove your eyes from your skull you thievish devil.” The servant cowered backwards and begged.
“No lies pharaoh it is TRUUE. My men and I, we were skewering the Agor lands down by east arena of the Nile…” the servant stopped speaking. It was an intelligent maneuver. You speak in portions around the Pharaoh.
“CONTINUE.” The Pharaoh only forced the one word out and the servant leaned forward.
“It’s silver. The color.- and a LIQUID. It’s beautiful. We did not take any for fear of disturbing. But I am SURE it is what you seek…” The pharaoh grabbed the servant’s arm and tossed him to the ground.
“You come into my TEMPLE announcing LIES, and NO proof to defend your words!”
A voice came from the wall of the temple. “I have proof.” It was dark and lapsing, making the Pharaoh stir from his tension.
A man swept into the temple slowly, creepily, and placed his hands in front of his chest. As he spoke he slowly extended the space between his arms until they were wide across the span of his torso.
“What this servant says is truth. I have some here.”
Once the man hit the light from the torches in the back of the temple, his face illuminated and the pharaoh grinned.
“Vizier. You can defend this servant’s words?”
“Yes.”
“Give it to me.”
The Vizier reached his hand forward. His hands were ash-ridden and weak, and barely able to grasp the container in his hands. He let his fingers loose and the container fell into the grip of the Pharaoh, who grinned across both his cheeks. The Pharaoh then slowly, with ease, lifted the cap off the container and dropped his nose into the now revealing hole of the top.
It smelled cold and musty. He held the container forward and reached his other hand across the lip of the cup and down into its center. As his finger approached the center a sinister tranquilizing liquid graced the tip of his fingers.
The Pharaoh grinned wildly and pulled his hand out.
“That arouses me Vizier.” The Egyptian women lined the walls behind the Pharaoh.
“Announce to the city we will have a gathering- outside the temple. I want everyone to witness the earning of my immortality.”
“Do you think it will work?”
“You have your doubts Vizier.” The Pharaoh just froze his words and stared at the Vizier. “Di you touch it? The liquid inside…did you touch it?
The vizier stared back intently. “Yes.”
“Then you should know.”
The Vizier nodded and left the entrance to the temple. A moment of silence protruded across the temple, the women began grabbing their breasts and the Pharaoh just eyed the container up and down, the hieroglyphics on the outside glossened.
“You are proud of me Archos, yes?” the servant quivered. He just stood, strong, and put his beady attentive eyes right into the iris of the servant- black and cloudy, hungry and persevered.
“Yes. I am.” The Pharaoh waved his hand into the air and a man from behind a curtain tossed him an apple. It fell conveniently into the Pharaoh’s hands without him having to take even the smallest step.
Archos dropped the apple into the hands of the servant.
“You get a talent like that young slaveman, you can join the temple.” The Pharaoh licked his lips and continued. “with the elite…”
The servant nodded and scampered out behind him knowing his time was better spent outside the Pharaoh’s grip. He admired the apple, and the offer for success, but he was far less talented than that elite being and was just satisfied with leaving the temple alive and compliment in hand.
The Pharaoh stood, both hands to his side, and stared outside the temple at the city below. He then placed the container next to his white crown and reclined back in his seat as the women collected around him, tops revealed and their hands on his chest in unison.
The men were scattered in clusters beyond the horizon, of all sizes and all origins. It was the Egyptian reign, and it was the Pharaoh who stood defiantly above the legions of servants he forced to follow his bidding orders.
He stood with insistence at the foot of the temple, gleaming across the horizon with a sizable chalice cusped between his fingers. It was a quite a spectacle. Most of the men were unabashed at the exact details and occurrences of the Pharaoh’s reasoning for this collection of all the men in the city.
The main portion of the temple stood above 35 feet of rock surface slab created to elevate the center of the temple above the minions and servants below. It crested at the top with a giant gold circle overlooking the remnants of the city. It wasn’t quite pyramid shaped, more dome-like in structure, with ridged stone edges that gave it a powerful and formidable look. This intimidated the city dwellers. None the less, the temple was the grace within the city’s walls, the pyramids outside of that being all tombs for previous Pharaohs, all who were found insufficient in the eyes of Archos.
“THIS IS IMMORTALITY.” The leader reached his hands and the cup towards the sky, and the sun’s rays glistening against its surface, reflecting pioneering beams of light throughout the fields of men clamoring at the scene.
It was an enlightening afternoon. The Pharoah stood, arms wide open, and the men, the many men, the servants the workers, the shepards and the good and the bad. All collected,, united, in a haphazard conglomeration of admiration and inspiration.
They all liked the Pharaoh. But they were also the children of the Pharaoh, and they didn’t have a choice.
“I WILL DRINK THE CONTENTS OF THIS CONTAINER OF LIFE. PRAISE MY IMMORTALITY.” He announced, his voice spreading wide beyond the stage and out to his minions. The men throughout the desert launched their bodies forward and moaned his name- out of habit. A resonating phrase…”Archos”…muddied but booming, spread like decomposition across the arena and, inevitably, into the hollow ears of Archos himself.
“YES MY MEN. IMMORTALITY IS OBTAINABLE… BUT ONLY FOR ONE.” The pharaoh declared. The men continued chanting. They were one as well- not THE one, but one as an individual…a mass of individuals.
The Pharaoh’s personal obelisk shined and reached its shadow out to the plethora of men, most cradled around their chest and nervous, anticipating the hyped overreaching of the forbidden Pharaoh’s claims to immortality.
A thundering, rolling boom echoed from beside the temple, and the Pharaoh lurched his hands forward for one more announcement, one more claim to the body of a mortal.
“DEUS SO LADORADA!” the Pharaoh placed the chalice to his forehead and turned his neck, opening his mouth. The liquid contained inside was thick, and it took quite some time for it to seep, ever so slowly, from the middle of the chalice to the edge. After a moment, the liquid singed his lips. The Pharaoh stirred, but ignored the inept cold.
The booming still continued, heightening in speed and thumping, leaving the men chanting along faster and faster. Many of them stood, complacent, trying to get a view of the Pharaoh and his slow rise to immortality.
The chalice emptied. The Pharaoh allowed it to drop to the ground and crack, rolling along the temple’s side and off the edge, dropping into the hands of a mid-level servant man.
The booming stopped. The men quieted. The pharaoh stood straight.
His eyes were wide, his lips blue and scorched. The Vizier at first looked quite surprised, but after a brief moment he took a quick last glance at the Pharaoh and smugly paced back into the temple.
The Pharaoh fell forward, his arms flailing behind him, as his face plummeted right down onto the surface of the temples entrance. The men surrounding the temple were quiet, shocked, and failed to respond.
As the fall of the Pharaoh became apparent the men stirred to life, all rising forward and breaching the entrance to the temple. Their eyes, as a collective scanned the area. To the left- to the right- to the fallen body of the Pharaoh to all the troubled men at the foot of the temple.
All these men, with no leader…what would they do now? Who are they?
The Pharaoh, Archos, died that afternoon, a tomb built for him to honor his name amongst the legendary greats of the Pharaoh’s time.
After many years continued to edge on by, and many Pharaohs followed Archos, it was revealed, by a friend and another friend (and a little science), the contents of the chalice…mercury. The silver element. The same poison used for centuries to tell the temperature, whether cold or hot, whether dead or alive.
Archos drank Mercury for immortality and it killed him on the spot. A true leader.
