The woman peered anxiously at the sky, feeling the perspiration curl down her back in a delicate thread. Her cotton chemise felt damp. It was the hottest day. Everything was sun-baked, crackling. Even the Nile crocodiles – Dua Sobek! – were immobilized into a state of catatonia, their fanged jaws wide open while tiny birds picked at their teeth for scraps.
She had prepared the beds of spices and herbs. Frankincense, myrrh, sandalwood, willow. Lit with fire, they had begun burning and the intense fragrances wafted skywards.
A bright flash of light, like the sun coming down to land. A bird-shape soared in the sky, gradually spiraling down in lazy circles, until it landed gracefully: a long-legged bird, like a purple heron, crowned with two long feathers. The eyes gleamed with a star-like quality. The feathers were tipped with sun-fire.
“I am here,” the Bennu said in a sweet fluting voice. “Have you prepared the beds?”
The woman bowed, touched by the Bennu’s beauty.
The Bennu stepped elegantly to the beds of spices still smoldering away with ruby-red embers. Without a sound, she hopped onto the beds and promptly sat down, as if to roost. The smoke grew thick, the fragrances stronger. The feathers sparked and soon, the Bennu was engulfed in a fast-burning white fire. The woman shielded her eyes and when she opened them again, the Bennu was gone. In its place was a young woman, smooth of skin, bright eyes like stars at night. She wore only a plain chemise and was already dusting the ashes off her body fastidiously with a look of gentle distaste on her sharp face.
“And we repeat this every year,” the young woman said dryly when the other woman approached her with a cotton veil. She wore it quietly, draping it around her head. The piles of spices sent puffs of aromatic smoke. She sneezed.
“The people demand it,” the other woman explained matter-of-factly, helping the young woman up to her feet. “They want the continuity of legends.”
“Ah, I see, I see.”
The two women walked away from the funerary pyre. The young woman, the former Bennu, glanced at her companion and said archly, “Next time you do it.”
ladyqkat said,
July 25, 2009 at 4:08 pm
This is beautiful. ♥
I am always touched by folk legends or stories that appear to be folk legends. I hve no idea which category this falls into because I am, unfortunately, undereducated in the field of myth and legend.
jolantru said,
July 25, 2009 at 4:58 pm
I see it as a re-myth, a re-interpretation of myth.