The Nephilim's Promise

Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Ancient Egypt

As Eli walked, the simlah’s shortness revealed itself, barely covering his feet and sandals as he entered the palace. The desert’s sunset brought forth different hues of red-yellow, which splashed against the sandstone and limestone walls and columns of this city near the delta. He walked fast past the pond where lotus floated, framed by painted landscapes on the tile. A slight breeze pushed some date palm fronds against the wall, near where guards stood blocking the path to the entrance to vizier’s home.

One of the guards nodded, providing him entrance. As usual, the guards stood as he approached, some out of respect and most he suspected, out of fear. Blond and tall, he stood out amongst the people of the desert, some dark as chestnut, others light as mahogany but all much shorter than Eli. As he rounded the corner, Eli saw him, looking over papyrus, torches on either side providing some light as the sun retreated.

Yusuf stood, a man of average height of five feet five inches with light olive skin. Even though Yusuf was not Egyptian, he dressed as one, even adopting the black kohl, highlighting his eyes so they appeared almond-shaped. Barely in his late twenties, Yusuf still maintained long hair, combed straight with the use of olive oil to weigh it down and prevent it from curling and as the custom, he stood clean-shaven.

When he stood one yard away, Eli nodded his head in symbolic reverence. “My lord vizier, you asked for me?”

A young woman held a wine jar, who nodded as Eli entered, bowed, and took her leave, when Yusuf looked up. Yusuf clapped, then waved his hands to dismiss the guards.

After they left, Yusuf approached Eli and squeezed both of Eli’s arms.

“I can never remember how much of a mountain you are until you show up. Yet you look the same when you rescued me and delivered me to this land.”

Eli smiled. At six foot five, his shadow from the torches almost engulfed Yusuf. “Your words are very welcoming, but it was providence that placed me in your path.”

Eli wasn’t lying. He smiled.

If Yusuf only knew his intervention wasn’t accidental.

He looked at Yusuf and realized that the chamber had emptied out. “You look well, lord vizier.”

“We are alone, my friend.” Yusuf smiled then c****d his head. “You do not need to call me that but I appreciate that you adopted some of the customs of Pharaoh and these people, except I notice you refuse to wear the eyeliner of Horus.”

“I have adopted the custom of being clean-shaven, even taking the practice of having a barber visit my home. However, unless you order me, Yusuf, I will not do the ritual cleansing of removing my hair every week throughout my body or wearing galena. And for you to name an idol, things have changed with you!”

Yusuf shook his head and clucked his tongue. “The kohl has medicinal purposes. It helps prevent Nile disease of the eyes. Since your eyes are blue and your skin fair you should consider the benefits of using the minerals here in this land. As for the lapse in local custom, I forget you think the falconed-one as a false god. But Pharaoh’s people believe he symbolizes the sun. Also, if you refuse to shave your chest and arms, you’ll never attract a suitable mate.”

Eli studied Yusuf. Now in his early twenties, light crow’s feet had started to appear around the eyes. Probably from worry. Yusuf combed his natural brown hair with oil, ignoring the fashion of wearing a dark wig. Yusuf adopted traditional eyeliner and wore the white flaxen tunic common among his caste. Eli noticed the worry lines that appeared on Yusuf’s forehead. Unlike Eli, Yusuf was full human and the aging process was becoming more apparent.

Their relationship had many unspoken issues: Eli’s constant youthful appearance and his quiet stubbornness not to take a wife although others, Egyptians, had tried.

“You are wise, Yusuf.” Eli smiled. “And of course I shall consider your recommendations but I am not worried about the sun’s effects on me.” Eli followed Yusuf to ornate carved chairs decorated with ducks and birds in ivory. After Yusuf motioned for him to take a seat, Eli continued. “But was I summoned to talk about my use of make-up? Or debate your decision to reject the teachings of the Shasu?”

Yusuf laughed. If anyone else had mocked him, or derided him for abandoning the teachings passed down from his forefather, Abraham, he would have suffered arrest. But Yusuf owed Eli his life, a treasure he could have lost on more than one occasion.

“No. I wanted to talk to you about performing a task for Pharaoh—for me—”

“Of course. What is that you require? Have you had another dream?”

Yusuf scratched his chin. “Yes. But, my visions have not changed, but I do not trust anyone with this task.”

Eli turned to Yusuf, observed the orange aura around him, unchanged since the first day that Eli rescued Yusuf from Midianite slave traders more than ten years before. He smiled slightly, knowing that not even Yusuf, a Noahite, his closest friend, knew Eli had the ability to see the auras of all humans. “Then I shall do what you ask.”

“Thank you, my friend.” Yusuf took a cup of wine, then passed it to Eli. “I would like you to accompany a court scribe to visit the granaries of Goshen to double check the store supplies. I believe the famine will worsen and want to be prepared.”

“How many soldiers shall go with us?”

Yusuf cleared his throat. Eli watched Yusuf scan the empty room and noticed that Yusuf did not make eye contact. “None. Only you. I don’t want anyone to know that you are doing this. If a retinue of soldiers went with you, it would alert them. I don’t want anyone alarmed, not even Pharaoh.” Yusuf lowered his head, and whispered. “I trust that Yhwh’s gifts he has bestowed on you will protect you. I hope you accept.”

Eli put a hand to his head, rubbed his temples.

He must not trust Pharaoh’s soldiers.

He had sworn to protect Yusuf more than ten years before and he had always remained in proximity to him. A watcher, who took form and revealed himself as an Archangel, extracted this promise from him. When Uriel the Archangel told him to leave Mount Elbrus and the Caucasus and seek a caravan of slave traders that had left Canaan. Eli accepted the angel’s offer. In turn, he extracted one himself that he hadn’t called in yet.

“Do I have your answer?” Yusuf asked.

“I made a promise a long time ago never to leave you too far from where I can watch.”

“You are stubborn,” exhaled Yusuf. “But whatever bond you feel you must honor, I release you from it.” Yusuf clucked his tongue, then laughed. “I knew you wouldn’t accept my request the first time, but please do this for me.” Yusuf smiled, then clapped loud. Eli saw a young man, about twenty or so years approach, his eyes down in reverence directed to the tiles as he walked, his auburn hair short but not shaved in the local tradition of the middle class. Unlike other men his age he chose not to wear a wig with decorated braids.

Yusuf stood then waved Eli to follow him as he greeted the scribe.

“Eli, I trust this scribe. Watch over him like you’ve watched over me even if it means being far away from this city.”

Eli mouthed silently, “No, I cannot leave you.”

Yusuf whispered, “I know that you are not like us. You do not age. Secretly I’ve seen how strong you are and Pharaoh’s spies have told me that no one can wield a sword or spear like you so whatever heavenly promise you have made, I release you so you can do this for me. The people in the Delta may starve more and our people—my father and my brothers—could die if famine outside Avaris worsens. Eventually, my destiny is mine. But I need you to do this. Will you, please?”

Eli hadn’t heard Yusuf implore in a long time. Not since the days when Yusuf and he rode into Egypt, when Yusuf—tired, thirsty and hungry, stick-thin and so young—told Eli to save himself, and leave Yusuf behind.

Yusuf almost died in their flight to Egypt. With all that he had been through, Yusuf’s words now made him feel empty. Eli thought of him as a younger brother.

He stood there in silence. He pledged Uriel that he would see Yusuf to manhood.

Was that time now? Perhaps Yusuf is no longer the young boy I saved but now a man that must fulfill what Yhwh intentioned.

“Eli?” his name barely whispered by Yusuf, a question that softly punctured the air.

He nodded his head silently to Yusuf and turned to the young man who still had his head bowed. When the young man raised his head, the most beautiful amber eyes greeted him. Eli then noticed the slight emerald aura as the man’s handsome features assaulted his senses.

“Hello. I am Micha,” he said, smiling to both, but his gaze was on Eli. Micha nodded his head slightly to acknowledge their status but Micha didn’t take his eyes off Eli.

Eli smiled back.