Near Hathor


I, Enoch, son of Aorn the human, son of the slave that I was, here I am very humble and very repentant who come to you, dear miraculous reader. By sacred duty I must reveal everything I witnessed. Without lying, without disguise, without omitting a single detail, yet with no annoyance, I address to you who collect my words. My voice can reach you, while a good portion of space separates us, a big slice of eternity.

Beyond the stars, beyond the hills and wide valleys of the curved space, beyond the avenging eons, beyond the devouring time that swallow his children, here I am naked, body, heart and soul. I am going to put in a crystal globe the whole sum of my life, the totality of what I understood. And you, I wonder how, I don’t know where or when — you will hear me. On your shore one day the crystal globe will be gently deposited on the sand. By a miracle it survived to get to you. The ravages of time, the sea and the winds will be seen on the crystal. Cracks have marked the orb. By one of these cracks my words escape, collected by your attentive ear. Such a combination of circumstances properly designates you as my sole legatee. May you use my lessons, not those I give, but those I have received.

The time is slow for me, take a little of yours to read me. The Goddess led me with an iron fist, she bent me under her will. Then my pride rose on her face. I wanted to measure my strength to those of the Almighty, she cooked me. For thirty years, I had to maltreat my temperament, living in the middle of the world as if I lived alone. Hermit in the crowd, I was looking for my star. In the end, my shitty ego ended up giving way. Hathor has lifted my punishment. She took me to heaven, which is above the sky. I walked the space curves in a fast ship. The lights of the stars are all different. Their beauty can only be compared with the glimmers of changing colors that drape the polar sky with great moiré curtains. Yet the fairytale of the trip was overshadowed by the sumptuous beauty of Alcor. This divine star illuminates Wahn, the birthplace of the gods who made us. It is still the planet Wahn that welcomes their remains when they change their bodies.

The gods are born, they must die one day, it is the law of the living. To avoid this, or to delay, their doctors have developed a method that allows the mind and subtle body to migrate to a young body when the old becomes defective. This medicine is commonplace, it has been practiced forever. Nobody remembers the time when the gods would die of old age. Now they only die by accident. Which is rare. They read the future, so they can avoid all dangerous situations … or choose to face them for the pleasure of the sport. Some humans sometimes have similar madness. The others admire them a lot for that, they call them heroes, geniuses, champions, and many other names.



I am only Enoch, brother of the awakened, disciple of my trials that taught me everything. My life is a miracle of which I am not the author. The goddess has filled me. She punished me too, sometimes mercilessly. The pain has grown me. She opened my heart, untied the limbs and the stomach. On Whan the beautiful, I thought myself divine, me who am only a man. I have lived so many years, nothing is finished, my life continues. Bad luck too. I took myself for one of the gods my masters, I wanted to compose the opera of Alcor, but who am I for that? Shame on me ! I ruined everything by pride. My stinking ego plunged me into his element. It took me a hundred years to get out of hell where Hathor was holding me.

Time is nothing, she told me. When your body is exhausted, I will make you use a new one. She kept her word. The Goddess does not lie. She does not make mistakes. His goal is his way, he leads where she decides. Three times I changed my costume. Three different bodies were inhabited by your marveled servant, so true is the body not the man, as the rag does not make the beggar. A new body full of vigor allows the gods to rediscover the fiery glow of youthful loves. Many do not shy away from it, most give it to their heart’s content.

My mission was to apply the sanctions required by the Goddess. Ensure the smooth running of his sentences. Chastity of the guilty or punishing innocents, my opinion did not matter. By dint of iniquity my heart became hardened. I have never enjoyed this sad task, never. It is true that I do it perfectly. Executioner of the powerful fallen in disgrace, torturer of the fallen heroes, but also tormentor of the expiatory victims, I caused the death of many innocents. I always sought perfection, even in horror. Such is my unforgivable crime.

“Which shows that you have not finished with your shitty ego and your unbearable pretense, my dear Enoch.”

The gods dreaded me. In a short time my reputation as executor of high works was at the height of my sinister exploits. How much did I need? It took me a hundred years. Finally the intimacy of the Goddess was acquired to me in total affection. She made me make a stallion’s body for me to honor his as he deserves. Being a favorite of the Goddess has many advantages, and more disadvantages, as I had to discover. Too close to the sun we burn our wings. In my empty head, the words of Hathor, long-awaited, longer desired: “Your bravery in a hundred fights … a thousand competitions … hero, diviner, poet … order a cruiser in the Guard …”

And the years go by, I have to keep my role to keep my place with her. Never will the goddess lift my pain unless she gets tired of me. I do not think about it, she can read everything in my mind. Arming myself day after day with infinite patience, I finally won his pardon. My punishment lifted, my command in the Imperial Fleet confirmed, an exceptional permission of 5 years was granted to me. Free to use this holiday as I please. Hathor put at my disposal a subliminic cruiser, with all his crew for the maneuver. I refused that favor. I wanted to leave alone to discover at my own risk the vast empire already conquered by Hathor and all the Matriarchs who preceded it.



Then my adventures took a turn that I would have had great difficulty imagining.


Do not look for followers. You will have only zeros.
Friedrich Nietzsche