Chapter 9: The Light Illuminates Memphis
Sun worship was not humanity's earliest form of natural worship, but its influence far surpassed all others.
By the time of the Nineteenth Dynasty during the New Kingdom era, the ancient Egyptians' mode of production had completely abandoned the prehistoric ways; from hunting and gathering, they had transitioned fully to agricultural labor.
If during Menes's unification of Egypt, Upper Egyptians still retained some ancestral customs, by this era they were completely gone. Upper and Lower Egyptians alike had long since shifted their celestial worship from the moon to the sun.
Those once mighty hunting gods either transformed into gods of different natures or were relegated to the margins of new mythology.
For example, Horus, the chief hunting god of Upper Egypt, no longer had anything to do with hunting in this era.
At this time, the entire ancient Egyptian realm was at the peak of solar worship.
Even Akhenaten's monotheistic reform centered on a sun god. Although this religious reform ended disastrously in Egypt, its ideas would later find an extraordinarily powerful revival in another people and, through them, spread widely—eventually leading to the creation of one of the world's most influential religions in the next millennium.
But that is a story for another time, and irrelevant to Hikigaya at this moment.
He only needed to know that the Egyptians of this era were fanatically devoted to the sun god.
A prime example was Set.
By this period, Set had been vilified by popular belief almost to the point of being completely blackened, yet Egyptians still assigned him the role representing the destructive aspect of the sun.
Hikigaya held the infant as he stood on the broad stone walkway between the pools.
Using the power of Osiris, he protected the baby's life, preventing the curse from sapping her vitality, while simultaneously starting to invoke another divine power.
This time, those witnessing his power would be more than just Ramses and the others behind him.
As night deepened, Memphis was already bathed in the glow of stars and moonlight.
Yet many people were still awake.
Among them were soldiers, workers, palace attendants, and those unable to rest due to the queen's premature birth.
There were also nobles who, stirred by the news, were either anxious or joyful, unable to sleep.
Patrolling soldiers, workers still laboring, servants wandering the now quieter palace under the night, and nobles gazing from their windows all looked up.
Anyone who could see the sky clearly from a height noticed something unusual.
Though the city was said to be bathed in starlight and moonlight, in truth, except for the moon and the distant twinkling stars, the rest of the sky was black.
By day, the sun shone everywhere; by night, darkness reigned, with no distractions—clear and simple.
Humanity had survived this cycle for millennia, and the ancient Egyptians had no complaints.
But tonight, someone was disrupting this balance—and in front of all of Memphis's night owls.
Suddenly, a beam of dawn light appeared in the eastern night sky.
At first, it was faint, but within moments, the eastern land and sky were dyed a brilliant golden hue.
The shy eastern clouds, like a demure noblewoman hiding in darkness, now stretched luxuriously under the radiance, as if a vast army was charging from the horizon.
All who saw this scene froze in place—this was unmistakably a sunrise!
Since ancient times, agrarian peoples have never lacked means to measure time.
At least for sunrise and sunset, there was never any ambiguity. The ancient Egyptians were no exception; they did not need clocks to know when the sun should rise.
Now the timing was clearly wrong.
This was supposed to be the hour for lovers to embrace and revel, yet here was the sun, rising in the dead of night—what was this madness?
One by one, the Egyptians were dumbfounded.
Some, less composed, shouted aloud, waking others. But their reactions barely mattered, for more than half the sky was already bright, and the sun's light was illuminating Memphis as if it were midday.
At this time, the Pharaoh of Egypt was undoubtedly the ruler with the largest population on earth.
Though Ramesses and previous Pharaohs only ruled their own domains, the number of subjects already numbered in the millions.
Now, roughly one percent of the Pharaoh's subjects and slaves had witnessed this spectacle firsthand.
Across the sky appeared a wide, magnificent river of light. It illuminated Memphis completely and poured down from the heavens, flooding the Pharaoh's palace entirely.
Many could no longer contain themselves and fell to their knees with a loud thud, offering deep bows toward the palace. Most were commoners and slaves, but some nobles did so as well.
Among the nobles, some were terrified, but others quickly realized something:
That Pharaoh was about to seize another chance to boost his prestige!
This wasn't the first time. Last time, when the Nile's water mysteriously reversed course, that ruler had made great gains in popularity.
Throughout history, those who eagerly exalted the gods were either rulers or politicians seeking power—and yet, paradoxically, the least devout.
Even though this was the dawn of civilization in the New Kingdom period, and even in Memphis—one of the birthplaces of the Egyptian triad of gods—such people were not rare. The only difference between them and later politicians was their belief in the gods.
At this time, the distance between humans and gods was extremely close, with miracles happening frequently, so no one doubted the gods' existence.
The ancient Egyptians regarded the gods' actions as the fundamental truth governing the world.
All interpretations of divine phenomena were top secret, shared only by the temples and Pharaoh.
Commoners, and even nobles without appropriate positions, were forbidden to interpret these miracles.
Thus, while some ill-intentioned individuals cursed secretly, they could do nothing but worry, wondering if they had backed the wrong horse.
For the Egyptians of the New Kingdom, being bathed in light descending from the sky was terrifying and sacred. No matter how reckless they were normally, no one dared act rashly in such moments.
At the queen's chamber door, now fully enveloped in light, people stood dazed, their eyes vacant.
The only one still holding his wits was Ramesses.
This great emperor's expression was far from wise or brilliant. Instead, he looked like a later-era sufferer of polio, mouth agape and drooling, unaware of himself.
Through his slightly vacant gaze, he saw his daughter Meritamun's body become as translucent as crystal. Sacred light passed through her, washing away tendrils of black mist from her form.
And the mysterious youth calling himself "Hikigaya" held the infant, welcoming this holy baptism. He manipulated the surrounding light, allowing these "sacred" energies to enter Meritamun's body again and again.
Could a human do such a thing?
Clearly, no!
Ramesses suddenly had an epiphany.
He felt he understood.
He found this stranger mysterious yet oddly trustworthy because the stranger was not human at all!
And with such immense radiant power, he certainly could not be a demon. That left only one conclusion!
This was a deity! And surely one of the brothers of his father, Set I!
That strange name, "Hikigaya," must have some meaning! How could he not have realized this before? He was so foolish!
Right—he said his name was Seth? Could it be...
Ramsses had never knelt before anyone in his life, but now, he felt perhaps he should.