❝ All women speak two languages: 

the language of men

and the language of silent suffering. 

Some women speak a third,

the language of queens. ❞

--Mohja Kahf, The Marvelous Women

NAQSH-E ROSTAM

AUGUST, 465 BC

AV, FROM THE CREATION OF THE WORLD, 3296

THEY THINK HE IS a god.

Even as the Immortals follow the train of his caravan down, down, down to the rocky grave that he is to be entombed in, they think he is a god—and if not the incarnation of Ahura Mazda himself, then he is no less of a god than any mortal that they have made legends out of.

His people weep over him even now, mourning the loss of a man who ruled Babylonia with an iron fist, who chained the sea when it did not bend to his whims, who scattered the Macedonians like a winnower scattering chaff.

They think he is a god, and while I stand here today with my back towards the East wind, that is all they would remember him as.

They call him many things, even in his death.

They have called me many things, as well, but those things are only half-truths and I am not dead yet.

To answer the first, two lies do not make a full truth.

And to answer the second, falsehoods do not hurt the dead.

Only the living.

And if they do hurt the dead, there is only comfort in knowing that the dead never know what their enemies say from split tongues.

They have called me a murderer, a woman thirsty for blood like a flock of sheep thirsty for water. They say that when the days of slaughter had begun and the Jews were defending themselves against their enemy that I stood upon the precipice and drank sangria the color of crimson life. They say that when the cup departed from my lips a lioness smiled back through eager teeth. They say that claws sprouted from my fingertips and that I gouged marks into the metal, then wrote the ineffable name of God upon the surface before casting it into the streets below.

Some who are more superstitious than others have called me a Lilith, a daeva who seduces men in their sleep, sends their blood hot and feverish through their veins, fanning the flame of their arousal until they reach out and take it when it is soft and ready and it leaks with the nectar of temptation.

I know what they call me. I have heard them in the halls of the palace, inside the walls of my chambers, whispering in the armory behind their shields and their swords and their bucklers. But they forget that if a Lilith bent over their bed at night and kissed fire into their manhood they would succumb, as all others have. Men will eat unripe fruit when they get the chance. When they know that no one will stop them.

If I did seduce the shah, I did not do it of my own will. Rather, it was he that seduced himself, for he wanted a woman that surpassed all others and it seemed that I was the embodiment of that longing.

I was the goddess incarnate, and men cannot resist the divine.

They have called me many things, as we all know well, and if I were to tell you them all the royal archives could not contain them.

So instead, I will not tell you what they have called me, but what I have called myself. What I know in the depths of my heart to be true though all others may count it as otherwise.

I will tell you the story of Istar, and the shah en shah, how in esteeming himself above all others he drank the sun from the pinnacle of glory and scorched his throat with the taste, and how as a result it took many, many months for him to heal.

I will tell you the truth, and you must promise to listen, even as you see that the shah is being buried and you cannot fathom the words of the story.

They think he is a god. But they thought, once upon a time—though they refused to acknowledge it—that I was a queen.

And that would have been enough.

*lets out the breath i've been holding for so long*

and we're here.

this prologue wasn't even supposed to be part of the first draft—like WITA, i was thinking of forgoing the prologue and getting straight to the story—but the first line of AHDTS came to me in the middle of the night (as i mentioned in the introduction) and i couldn't let it get away.

as you can see, the writing style is a bit different from my other works, but i like that because whenever i get tired of writing in one POV, i can switch to another.

the prologue doesn't have any terms that need defining—the one term that i used was clarified by the context—but as we progress in the story words will crop up here and there and the glossary will show up when appropriate. 

all foreign terms are either in Farsi (Persian), or Hebrew, with exceptions noted in the glossary.

if you're interested in knowing what exactly i listen to while i'm drafting AHDTS, there is a playlist up on 8tracks, entitled "no man can resist the divine," and the link will be in the comments right

✒️ here

so that you can listen. i already shared the link in the introduction under the heading "playlist" in a comment by the playlist's cover, but i'm posting it again here for easy access. 

currently one of the tracks, Love Song by Ofra Haza, is redirecting to a different version than the one i intended—so if you'd like the correct link DM me and i'll send it to you.

for now, updates will come when they're written. this prologue is to test the waters, in a way, and to see if i want to post the entire first draft up here on Wattpad. 

i'm always thankful for your support, your votes and your comments—you guys are the best readers i could have asked for and i'm always grateful for every one of you. thank you for the encouragement, the excitement, and the willingness to join me on my journey as a writer.

stay ruinated, darlings,

—ella <3