Welcome to the fourth and final season of ENKI: Tales from the Past.

I am Moses, the chosen one, whispering from the shadows of this intricate saga.
As we walk on this concluding chapter, we stand at the edge of destiny, where whispers in the dark mold the futures of nations. Every move, every deception, every hard-fought battle holds the weight of divine purpose and mortal ambition.
In this season, the pillars of power will shake, and the true puppeteers shall be revealed. The lines between gods and men blur, revealing the fragility of kings and the strength of whispers that guide their fate. My carefully cultivated legend grows ever more potent, and the choices I make now will echo through the annals of time.
I urge you to engage with the author: Mario Portela… Share your thoughts, reach out through the channels available, and let your voice be heard in this grand epic. You are a thread in this intricate tapestry, and your presence enriches our story.
This is Moses, welcoming you to another episode of «ENKI: Tales from the Past», Season Four.

And so, let us begin…

I strolled through the alabaster halls of the palace, my earth-toned cape trailing behind me. The servants bowed as I passed, their eyes full of admiration. My smile, warm and inviting, masked the whispers that echoed in my mind.

“You are chosen,” the voices repeated. “Special.”

From the balcony, I gazed upon the mighty Nile, its waters glinting under Ra’s light. Somewhere down there, years ago, a tiny basket had carried me to my destiny. The Pharaoh’s daughter had found me, a gift from the river itself. She named me Mesuu-aa – drawn from the water… – Now everyone calls me Moses!

My fingers traced the gold-trimmed Egyptian robe beneath my simple cape. Two worlds lived within me – the opulent life of a prince and the fake humble origins of a Hebrew child. The palace priests had taught me their ancient wisdom, while hidden whispers guided me through shadows, speaking of greater purpose.

“They are all beneath you,” the voices whispered. “But show them kindness. Draw them close. You are the bait… they are mere fish!”

A group of nobles approached, and I turned to greet them with practiced grace. They sought my counsel on matters of state before turning to the Pharaoh, drawn to my carefully built reputation of wisdom and fairness. I listened patiently, offering gentle guidance that would bind them closer to me.

“My friends,” I said, placing a hand on the shoulder of the eldest noble. “Your concerns touch my heart deeply. Let us find a path that serves all.”

They departed satisfied, never suspecting the contempt that churned beneath my benevolent facade. The voices approved of my performance, as they always did. Since childhood, they had shaped me, whispering of power and destiny while I studied in the temple courts and learned the ways of Egyptian nobility.

I returned my gaze to the Nile, its waters dark with secrets. The palace had given me everything – knowledge, influence, the trust of those around me. Yet the voices promised more. So much more.

The memory of that Egyptian taskmaster’s blood staining the sand brought a smile to my lips. His cruelty toward the Hebrew slaves had presented the perfect opportunity. The voices had guided my hand that day.

“Strike now,” they’d whispered. “Show them you are their defender.”

I’d buried his body in the sand, making sure Hebrew eyes watched from afar. Word spread quickly through their ranks – the Egyptian prince who championed their cause. The voices were right – nothing builds loyalty like shared secrets.

But Pharaoh’s investigators grew too close. I’d known they would – the voices had prepared me for this too. My “escape” to Midian was no panicked flight, but a calculated move.

“Let them think you weak,” the voices counseled. “A coward who ran from justice. Your absence will only make their hearts grow fonder.”

In Midian, I found shelter with Jethro, a priest with seven daughters. His eldest, Zipporah, became my wife – another piece falling into place. The voices approved of how I played the humble shepherd, letting my legend grow among the Hebrews back in Egypt.

“Your time in the wilderness makes you relatable,” the voices purred. “They’ll see you as one of them now, not just a prince in borrowed robes.”

Each night, as I tended Jethro’s flocks, reports reached me through trusted channels. The Hebrews whispered my name with reverence, spinning tales of the noble prince who sacrificed everything to defend one of their own. My “exile” only strengthened their devotion.

The voices were pleased. Everything was proceeding according to their design. My reputation grew on both sides – to the Egyptians, I was the disgraced prince who’d fled justice. To the Hebrews, I was their secret champion, awaiting the right moment to return.

“Patience,” the voices counseled. “Let them yearn for your return. When the time comes, they will follow you anywhere.”

The mountain air grew thick as I approached the strange glow between the rocks. A bush blazed before me, flames dancing across its branches without consuming them. The familiar voice that had guided me since childhood now thundered from within the fire.

“Remove your sandals, Moses. This ground is sacred.”

My lips curved into a knowing smile as I slipped off my shoes. The voice that had whispered secrets in my mind for years now revealed itself openly. Just as planned.

“I am the God of your fathers – of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob.”

I bowed my head, hiding my expression. Of course you are, I thought. The same presence that had shaped my path since those days in Pharaoh’s palace.

“I have seen my people’s suffering in Egypt. You will lead them to freedom.”

Heat from the flames warmed my face as I raised my eyes. “Who am I to stand before a powerful Pharaoh?”

“I will be with you,” the voice answered. “Tell them Yawhé has sent you. The one true god…”

Power surged through my veins. This was the moment I’d been cultivating for decades. My carefully crafted reputation among both Egyptians and Hebrews would serve perfectly.

I strode back into Egypt like a returning king…

With me walked my new brother Aaron… he was afraid. I was not… I was… I am the prophet, of prophets!

Though I maintained my humble shepherd’s appearance. The palace guards recognized me instantly – the prodigal prince come home. Whispers spread through the corridors: “Moses has returned.”

And now here I am, back at the palace!

I know that in the Hebrew quarters, crowds gathered to catch a glimpse of their champion. Their eyes shone with hope and devotion, just as I’d known they would. The years of exile had only strengthened their loyalty.

Standing before Pharaoh’s throne, I felt no fear. I was no longer the young prince who’d fled in false shame. I was Moses, chosen of Yawhé, destined to lead these people. The chosen ones… the ones selected to be my people and flock. Their blind faith would serve my purpose well.

“Let my people go,” I commanded, tasting the authority in those words. The voice in my head purred with approval. Everything was unfolding exactly as designed.

I stood before Pharaoh, my former brother in all but blood. His eyes narrowed as I delivered my message.

“Thus says Yawhé – let my people go that they may hold a feast to me in the wilderness.”

“Who is this Yawhé that I should obey his voice? I know not this god, nor will I let the Hebrews go.”

The voice in my head seethed with anticipation. Perfect. His defiance would only serve our purpose.

“The God of the Hebrews has met with us,” I pressed, Aaron trembling beside me. “Let us go three days’ journey into the desert to sacrifice to him, lest he fall upon us with pestilence or sword.”

Pharaoh’s face darkened. “Moses, why do you draw the people away from their work? Get back to your burdens!” He turned to his taskmasters. “These people grow too numerous. Double their quota of bricks, but give them no straw. Let them gather it themselves.”

I bowed and withdrew, hiding my satisfaction. Outside the palace, Hebrew foremen accosted me.

“You have made us stink in Pharaoh’s nostrils! Our people suffer worse than before because of you!”

I raised my hands in feigned distress. “O Lord, why have you brought trouble on this people? Why did you send me?”

But internally, I smiled. The voices whispered their approval. The more Pharaoh oppressed them, the more desperately they would cling to their deliverer. Their suffering would bind them to me forever.

That night, I watched from the shadows as elderly Hebrews struggled to gather straw in the moonlight. Their backs bent under fresh bruises from the taskmasters’ whips. Children wept from hunger as their parents labored to meet impossible quotas.

“See how they suffer for you,” the voice purred. “Soon they will follow you anywhere to escape this torment. Their pain serves our purpose.”

I nodded, pulling my cloak tighter. Every lash, every cry of anguish, drove them further into my waiting arms. Pharaoh’s cruelty was the forge that would shape them into my perfect weapon.