The Last Days Of Mars

Nimrod the Slayer of Fire Serpents

I reached the great height of the Lesser Kir. Still, the Great Kir towered over me at the other end of the city. I had only been to the Great Kir for two festival rituals that required that the Guardian Children be present. I was small then. It was well known that I was the last of the Guardian offspring to be born. For the last 32 cycles, the Guardians had not seeded any mortal women. 

The priests of the Guardians did not ask their masters nor were they concerned. Such periods without divine offspring had occurred in the past. The Annunaki had put down laws keeping the Red Clay people from multiplying too much. They sometimes wished to set the example for their followers so they avoided coupling with Martian women.

But as the youngest Guardian child, that meant that I spent the last two years of lessons alone with Master Sojen. It made for painfully dull afternoons. I dragged my feet on the last few steps and let my hand hover over the tablet beside the doors to the temple. With a sigh, I pressed my palm over the ancient figures etched into the stone square.

The digits and figures glowed under the warmth of my hand as the Annunaki magic read the hot blood beneath my skin. With a sharp chirp, the tablet went dark. The gleaming, metal doors snapped and ground as they sank down into the floor. Taking off my scarf, I ducked into the shadows of the ancient temple.

The lightless antechamber led straight to the main room of the temple, a cavernous place of worship where the star ship of the Annunaki could land on the open ceiling. Now, a sheet of red glass covered the gaping square ceiling, shading the room in a bloody glow. At the far end of the room stood the three effigies of the Guardians. I did not pause to look up into their looming, stone faces. I knew them well enough. The one on the far left was my father, after all.

The statue of my sire, the Guardian named Enki, glared down from his pedestal on high. It was a faithful representation from what I could tell. He was tall, like me. His eyes glowed, like mine, except they were pale green in color. Mine matched the burnished heart of a thriving ember. His hair curled underneath a headdress that peaked like the pyramid of the Kir with a shroud of dark blue trailing over broad shoulders. He was powerfully built, the god of the fresh waters of our planet. But so distant from me.

Somedays, the only things that made me believe my parentage were my obvious physical traits. How could a person be so far from the being that created them? The thought made me resent my lineage even more.

I tangled in my thoughts. The storm of emotion that I had been battling for days threatened to overwhelm me. The closer I go to my 33rd birthday, the more fearful and bitter I had become. But I didn't know why. 

With quick steps, I turned a sharp corner going down the well lit stairwell to my classroom. The walls were not illuminated by torches in the Kir, but dark blue stones of lapis lazuli that emanated a soft glow. My sandal skidded on the edge of a stair and I yelped.

"Careful there, starling," a voice commanded as I collided with a body coming up the stair. 

Strong hands with heavy rings grabbed my forearms and set me aright. I peered up at the face of one of my fellow Guardian Children. He was a first generation, like me. His strange hands gave him away. He had six fingers on each hand, a trait shared by the offspring of the Guardian Enlil.   

It was Nimrod, the great warrior. His fame was only superseded by my great grandfather's. But he was well on his way to making a legend for himself as he slayed the fire serpent monsters of the far east desert.

"Littlest one, you will be late for Master Sojen," he said, releasing me with a booming laugh. 

I had never met him, but had seen his parades through the city when he brought his kills up from the desert. Pale hair, white as death, was tied back tightly from a broad face. Large eyes as dark red as the clay crinkled at the corners in a smile that didn't fade from his mouth. I wondered if it ever did. He commanded a room with such forceful joy.

"Nimrod," I bent my head forward in respectful acknowledgement of my elder.

"And you are Guardian Enki's youngest, the child."

I met his eyes again with an even gaze. "I am not a child any longer. I am 33 this season."

"33?" A shadow of concern shaded his laughing gaze. "I thought you were younger."

"No. My family will celebrate my ceremony with the return of our Fathers."

"Of course." His tight smile relaxed to reveal perfect teeth, the canines prominent like any great hunter. "And my heartful joy at your coming-of-age... I apologize, but you were always called the Child since you are the last."

"I am Ereshki."

"Ah. Ereshki." He passed me on the step till he was looking down into my face. "Queen of the Clay is your name meaning."

I nodded, unsure how I felt under his strange smile. I had the distinct impression that he knew something that I did not. It was a feeling that I resented. 

"And do you love the red clay of this place? The Red Clay Pure Bloods of our planet?"

His question caught me off guard. I wet my lips and blinked up at him, unsure how to respond. Before I could think of an answer, his thunderous laugh filled the stairwell.

"I am not being very kind to you, Starling. Off with you to Sojen before he gets angry with me for detaining you," he commanded before turning, his crimson robes sweeping around his impressive figure as he ascended into the sanctuary above.