Infinite 01 - Infinite Sacrifice

he is sent ahead to another chamber.
    When it is finally my turn, the priest turns and asks, “You will loyally serve your gods and goddesses under Ra and the Pharaoh?”
    I recite, “I will, or the Pharaoh take my life and Ra deny me afterlife.”
    I drink and eat to fulfill the initiation and step into an even lower-ceilinged passageway, where I wait until I’m waved in. Three groups are stationed in the queen’s chamber. Two naked boys stand beside open fires in front of two groups. One tries to pull away from the priests who hold him, screaming as the surgeon makes a quick movement.
    Coward .
    I give no sign of hesitation as I remove my robe and march toward the third station. This is the mark of the priesthood and the highest act of purifying oneself. Each priest takes an arm, and the surgeon kneeling before me brushes the tip of my manhood with a tingling, brown liquid—the anesthetic. It weakens me to receive it.
    The surgeon grasps a thin knife with a long handle, pulls my foreskin forward in one hand, and slices off the small piece of flesh with the other. I inhale sharply, registering the hot flash of pain. The surgeon throws the flesh into the fire, then places honey-soaked cotton with thyme around the wound, and covers it with a linen wrap. Turning to the priest wrapping a linen loincloth around my waist, I bow as they bow back.
    I am one of the priesthood now.

Chapter 2
    Years later, my palm-wood-sandaled feet trot along the stone path through tall desert trees that provide much-needed relief from the dry heat of the land. I come to the end of my purification walk from my family dwelling outside the sacred city of Memphis. My thirty days of service is about to begin, and I’m eager to reclaim the position of my late father and his father before that. I already feel strength from my fast. I walk steadfast under the towering statues of Ra lining the walkway to the temple entrance. I’m beginning to feel alive again, every muscle tingling.
    Above the door bears the sacred inscription: “The House of Life—The Learned Ones of Library Magic.” Every time I pass under that engraving, pride consumes me. I’m the high priest of such a temple . The six guards at the entrance step aside and bow to me, allowing me access. I point for my lagging slave, Nun, to go to my sleeping chamber and prepare it for the evening. The interior of the temple drops twenty degrees, and my sweat cools instantly, causing a slight chill. Torches illuminate a path down the corridor as the smell of incense engulfs me.
    Another guard opens the massive cypress door and bows on one knee while holding the heavy door open. Inside the high-ceilinged room stands an imposing statue of Serapis, God of Dreams, to which our temple is dedicated. All around the statue, offerings of fruit, nuts, beer, wine and fresh-killed lamb are piled up. Expensive oils and incense are burned in wide pots at the perimeter of the vast room, casting light on the papyrus plants, lotus, and palm trees painted to the top of the walls. I look to the flying birds and stars painted to the greatest height across the vaulted ceiling. A harpist plays soft music while beautiful virgins dance slowly. I walk to the altar and bow as a priestess wafts a cloud of incense and natron around me.
    I head through the pyres to my right which lead me to the cleansing pool. I stand at the pool’s steps, waiting with my arms out, as a stolist priest unties my cotton loincloth. Naked, I kneel down as another stolist lathers my head with scented lotion and shaves my hair to my scalp. I stand again as he shaves all of my body, hand-plucks my eyebrows and each eyelash.
    As a viper feels after shedding its skin, I breathe deep and glide into the cool, pure water, then sink beneath. Breaching the surface and rubbing the water from my eyes, I catch my reflection in the golden mirrors lining the edge of the pool. Water runs down my brown skin, causing a glistening effect in the glowing dimness of the room. With all my hair gone, my features look chiseled, emphasizing my prominent nose and thick lips.
    As I exit, the priests anoint my body in balanos oil and tie a clean white linen loincloth around my waist. I bow my head as one places the moonstone eye of Serapis around my neck and a gold arm cuff around my biceps. I turn to another who paints my eyes, brows, and lips black with kohl out of a lotus-shaped glass container. To finalize the cleansing, I rinse my mouth with salty natron