by Christopher Fry

I am not a harper or bard. Though many would beg to differ to the short opinion I hold my story telling abilities. So do not expect a polished tale. I held many names and titles and duties in the my service but only one ever gave me joy. Warrior, healer, mage, scribe, advisor, royal gaurdian, the list goes on. I am meerly a tale spinner, a fire side chatter, who entertains as the pharoah would have me do at his whim. It was at the request of my beloved husband, Rath, the Scribe of Amenhotep and Royal Gaurdian the Young Prince Rapses, that I tell my story.

This is more of a personal history of how I came to be in the position as the Right Hand of the Living Horus. I will try my best to scribe an accurate discription of my entire life. This, my personal history, though is as accurate as my memories can make it. Perceptions may seem one sided if calling on memories. But no one will challenge me that I lived through a momentous time in Egypt's history, a dark and wonderful and tragic time. Though my heart is still grieves for those lost, even as my hand shakes to dip the reed brush into the black ink, then to paint these glyphs, I feel my tears stain the papyrus as I scribe.

If you dear reader have come across the 12 alabaster jars hidden beneath the sarcophagus in the Tomb of Beloved Friend of the Pharoah's Son. The dozen papyri that you unroll in your hands contain the earliest events of my life. I have prepared these scrolls during the seventy day of mummifacation of the four slain Royal Gaurdians --Jakal, the Hunter; Nefer the Charioteer; Armon, the Soldier; and lastly . . my husband Rath, Scribe and Inventor. And the slain beloved Prince Rapses.

My heart is as weary and tired as the lotus rose dried up and blow to dust on the desert winds. A part of me wishes I could rest for eturnity in the arms of my brother, in the dark hollow tomb. To see the face of my beloved forever. Rath I miss you so. How I miss my friends. I curse the Fates that took them too soon and the life spark of Rapses that roams the deserts for ages to come until he finds his way back to the Circle.

The best way all tales begin is at the begining . . . .

My Msirian name is Aset-sekh-maatkaranef-Ashaket. It means She Who Walks In the Powerful Beautiful Justice of Ra who Gaurds the Throne Waters of Life. The Pharoah Amemhotep gave me that name himself after I was adopted in his court. My birth name is Elspeth Coulter, daughter of Alanor, Prince of Eire, and Lady Meryiah; member of the House of Dana of Tuatha de Dana, the last royal sidhe blooded child of the Fey. I am the Sword Keeper of the Kemet House, She Who Is the Chosen of the Four Goddess, Carrier of the Crystal Phoenix.

It was I who walked among the heavens where Nut reigns, desended into the icy realm of the Lich Queen and her Khaibit demons of the underworld, sought the Scrolls of Thoths, recovered the Jewels of Isis on the plane of light, and sailed on the winds on dragon wings.

I have traveled all of Kemet's Red and Black lands from Tanis to Aswan. I have fought in the Hittites wars, healed the sick, gotten drunk on the arms of fellow comrads, played my harp for the gods and lived to tell of it.

These eyes have seen many sorrows and shed countless tears. I have touched infinity, known the eternal solitude of darkness and felt life slip through my fingers like grains of sand. Through my dark hair is touched with gray and the dreams of youth are but quiet memories, there was a time when my name was mentioned in fear and reverence through known lands of Msir.

But the name I always prefered was known by my closest peers: Ashake, Ears and Eyes of the Pharoah.

In my travels, my shadow was long upon those I touched with Maat's Justice and red the sword of my ancestors for I was the Hand of Sekhmet. Crimson were the dunes as I played out my part as the Four Goddesses decreed. I had no idea, until centuries later, what my true role would become in the service of Amenhotep. I was meerly a cosmic chess piece on the board of the Universe. I played the hand I was delt from the deck of cards given me. I lived the best I could and even though the yoke of slavery was upon me . . .as the red brand on my neck . . I lived my life as I saw fit!

And now the curtain falls . . .

Come sit by my fire and I will tell you the wondrous tales of a time long past. The arid winds die in sibilant whispers as nightbirds awake, chittering. Sandflecks settle in dusk cooled rows as burning eyes water in grateful relief. It is night time in the desert.

Oh, the mysteries to learned. Of a brozen skinned people and times unknown to mundane history, the secrets left unwritten by scribes and sages long dead.

This is the time, this is the place. This is my story. The story of a warrior-healer of the Royal Gaurdains of the Prince Rapses. I live and breath in violent times and I was drawn into the struggles of Royal Court against those who would brings strife to my adopted home. My tale is not a pretty one. There are no good or bad people. Just people. My tales are ones of courage and strength, of perserverance against fate. But ultimately it is the tale of truth, justice, knowledge of self, and the leap of faith in the powers that control life and destiny.

Join me now as we journey to this unmarked past, and listen to my words, never pasted down by the fire side. The moon shines its spot light on the stage called life.

Daytime comes, and Ra, the sun, shines without mercy on the breifly cooled landscape, the dunes of Msir.

Welcome to RED SANDS -- Chronicles of Ashake, Eye of the Pharaoh.

I am She who has past the awakening of Time

Whose lore and love speak in Truth

I am She who is the Tenth Muse

The Nine chose to walk inside their circle of Inspriation

I am sister to Rhiannon, the Great Welsh Queen

who feels your pain and gives comfort

I am the Chosen of the Four Goddesses

I am the dancing steps, music, and Joy of Hathor

I am the wisdom and magic of Isis

My armor bears the blood stains of my enemies folly

I am she who see beyond the red veil

Healing touch or wrath of Ra

I am the Hand of Maat that stays the fury of Sekhmet

on the scales of Justice

Fire walk with me! As the Fires guide us!

Drink deeply of the Waters of Life.

How can you fight the Darkness unless you seek it with a heart of Light?

I am the candle in the Night. I cross the boundaries of the Underworld and spirit walk in dreams.

I am the Dreamwalker, Shamaness of Celts, Royal Gaurdian of Light.

I am Ashaket, Eye and Hand of the Pharoah.

Disclaimer: Elspeth Ashake Coulter is owned and copywritten by Elizabeth Strong, Java Goddess c1994. I must tell my sincerest thanks to Dresden and Getsu-Shin Moss for the brief work in the comics. You helped mold my dreams. I am forever grateful!