Join us at the campfire for tales from around the world, told by storytellers of all backgrounds and creeds. From the heros and heroines of old, let us relearn and rediscover the wisdom of our ancestors. Shhh..the story begins..

Ra, the great god of Egypt, was growing old and tired. In his great white mansion, servants scurried back and forth in obedience to his increasingly contradictory commands. His children and grandchildren laughed at him behind his back, but the ancient King still held the ankh, the looped cross which was the key of life and the symbol of royal power.

The younger members of his household chafed against his caprices and irrational demands, yet one of Ra's family, the goddess Isis, took no part in such rebellious murmurings. The power plays and court gossip held no interest for her. She was a solitary individual who kept her own counsel.

Isis spent her days far from the turquoise and marble halls of the royal house. She preferred wild, lonely places which had yet to be charted on any map. There, far from the prying eyes and ears of palace spies, she conferred with priestesses wise in foreign and exotic ways. Together, they devised and perfected the arts of sorcery.

Isis learned how to inscribe amulets with words of power, how to draw magic circles with a wand of hippopotamus ivory, how to exploit the special potencies of scorpions, crocodiles, and onyx gazelles by engraving their images on smooth-faced stones. She could cast her eye through days and seasons still to come, to mark times of good and evil omen. It was easy for her to slip inside the souls of those who slept and read or alter the messages encoded within their dreams.

Isis gathered up an arsenal of skills and subtleties. When the time was right, she used them to bend the aged Ra, the ever weakening reed, to the hot wind of her will. In his infirmity, the old King had begun to drool and slaver, a matter of great repulsion to the children of his house. But, as they began to shun the old god's company, Isis grew more attentive. She made sure that his every need was met, helped him to food and drink, and used the linen of her own finespun garments to wipe the spittle from his wet lips. Patiently, she collected this saliva, each night wringing out the liquid from her gown with tightly clenched fists.

One night, when she had gathered up what she deemed a sufficient quantity, she used her gifts as a maker and magician to form a viper from the slime and drool, and gave it life. On the following morning, when Ra went down to the river, the serpent of Isis slid across his path and buried its fangs into his flesh.

The poison spread quickly through Ra's body. He sweated and shivered, babbling incomprehensible, arcane secrets in his delirium. Creator though he was, this reptile was not of Ra's own making and without knowing its secret name and its innermost essence, even he, the greatest of all gods, was powerless to confect an antidote. As the venom bubbled in his veins, Ra's howls could be heard in Sumer, in Syria, and even in the twelve regions of the underworld. The royal family gathered about their fallen patriarch but they were unable to help him and the distress on their faces was deep and unfeigned.

Then, Isis came forward, cleared her throat, and announced that she might know of a cure; however, she stated, her magic would not work with so many witnesses. The rest of the household withdrew, leaving Ra on the ground where he had fallen, his back arched in agony.

Isis knelt beside him, gazing down into his pain-racked eyes. She knew a certain remedy, she admitted softly, for this particular toxic worm had been of her own making. But, for the healing spell to be efficacious, she would need to learn the sun-god's secret name.

Ra's eyes widened in horror. No request in the world could have been more outrageous. None should ever know his innermost hidden name...the word behind all words, that had coalesced from roaring chaos at the birth of the universe. It was the essence of his spirit and the key that unlocked his power. Even in the midst of his misery, Ra hesitated as Isis smiled down on him. Then, his hands and feet began to swell, almost to the point of bursting, and his face filled with flame. He struggled to lift his head and Isis lowered her own. With a cracked, blackened tongue, Ra pronounced the sacred syllables.

For one moment, a silence as deep as death fell upon Creation. The flies ceased humming and hung motionless in the air. The Nile seemed, for an instant, to pause in its flow. Down in the tombs, the bandaged dead tossed and murmured inside their painted sarcophagi. Something had changed in the order of the universe.

Then, Isis reached out her hand and kept her promise. She sang a spell so potent that no scribe would have ever dared to record it for posterity. She produced a tiny vial of glass, blue as heaven, and anointed Ra with droplets of the essence it contained. Soon, the sun-god rose up whole again, though severely shaken.

It is said that the rule of the earth quickly passed to the enchantress Isis and her consort Osiris who, in the manner of Egypt's ancient Kings, was her brother as well as her husband. Together, they formed a perfect partnership: Isis, the mother-goddess and magician, mistress of the crafts of weaving cloth as well as spells; and Osiris, the god of corn and rich harvests, teacher of the arts of farming and the skills of survival.

Isis, the Sorceress Queen, who had used her occult knowledge to seize power from the aging Ra, now employed this same wisdom to protect and nurture her people. She came to symbolize the devoted wife and ideal mother, a respected healer, resurrector, and protector of children. Finally, she became known as a goddess of magic and cunning...the one female deity who was more clever than a million male gods.