Even from the first tier of the ziggurat, I could see the entire road up to the temple, now filled with men in red robes and extravagant furs. They passed through the main gate and up the broad avenue to the ramp that ascended this tiered tower. Their slaves burdened with the offerings meant for me. 

Me, the one who was invisible not too long ago. Now worshipped like a goddess reborn.

Passing the temple functionaries who lined the path to my throne, I took my place in the centre of this ceremony. My heart swelling with pride. This was the beginning of my new life. From this day on, I could be someone without my family's shadows looming over me. Free from the burdens of royalty, from now on I would be lord and master of my own life. 

The temple singers sang with bright voices, shaking their beribboned hoops to the rhythm of the drums. The acolytes entered first, carrying the statue of Nanna. "Hail! To the one who lights the night we hail!" they cried in unison, placing the statue in its niche beside me.

As the tempo of the drums rose, and the timpani players chimed out sweet notes, the lords entered the great hall. The instruments fell silent once all were in place, and the congregation knelt and bowed their heads. 

All for me. 

I rose to anoint the statue of Nanna with the lotus oil drawing circles on its forehead. My husband, my god, my savior. You gave me wings, and I shall fly in your grace. Never let me fall, oh great Nanna.

When I turned around to face the crowd once more, I swallowed my nerves. "O house of the ziggurat, grown together with heaven and earth. Foundation of heaven and earth, great banqueting hall of Eridu! Nanna, shrine brightly for the house upon the holy mound where pure food is eaten, watered by the pure canal of Enki. This mountain, cleansed with the potash plant, Nanna, your drums belong to the divine powers."

Softly, the musicians began a stately tune. One by one, the lords approached the throne, presenting the offerings their slaves and servants piled on the platform before the statue. Special earrings, bracelets, a turban, a breastplate inlaid with gems. The list went on. The countless bearded faces started to blur together, to the point that the bald head of a lord named Lugal-ane seemed more like a hallucination than reality. 

"Enheduanna, may you bring peace and prosperity to Ur in the name of Nanna," he said with a voice as sweet as honey. His words did not differ from the blessings of all the other lords. Still, all that sweetness seemed to cover up some sour undertone, forcing me to respond. 

"I intend to bring peace, lord Lugal-ane. Ur should no longer remain forlorn in this desert."

"Forlorn?" The bald lord retorted, "forgive me, great lady, but our city was the most prosperous when we were our own lord and master." 

"And you shall remain your own lord and master," I responded quickly, scrambling for the words to correct my little slip. His hostile gaze demanded an explanation. I was still an Akkadian in the Sumerians' eyes, one who was the offspring of the man who tore down their walls no less. "What I mean is - you have suffered so many floods. The constant rebuilding must be tiring. I'll make sure Akkad will aid you, should tragedy strike again."

Lugal-ane raised an eyebrow, "what makes you think we want Akkadian aid?"

"Won't it be helpful to have the king provide extra supplies when needed?"

Laughter erupted from the lords. Bouncing off the smooth temple walls. Lugal-ane joined them, the jewels around his neck jumping around his rumbling stomach. "Sargon is far too lenient on his duties to ever pay mind to our supplies. Always going off to war or to kill another enemy. How can he rule the cities if he's never here? Does he think the grain grows by itself? Does he think the sheep tend themselves? The bread his soldiers eat comes from our fields, his army feasts on the mutton that is stolen from our mouths."

Whether it was the tone of his voice or his sickening smile, I couldn't say, but it made me boil with anger. "My father's heart is always with his people. He was born a commoner and has seen every tier of our society. More than any of you will ever see."

An eerie silence filled the room, and too late, I realized I was screaming. Suddenly, all the eyes felt like fire on my skin. Kituzda's gaze was venomous, and even Idal was shaking his head. 

"What is the meaning of this? Are we to stand down while the daughter of Sargon pretends to be our new En-priestess?" Lugal-ane fumed, spewing his fire towards Kituzda. 

The priestess held her composure. "She completed the ritual without fail. Nanna has chosen her."

"Am I to believe that? Anyone here can see that we are betrayed by that Akkadian tyrant!"

The fire-haired priestess took a step in front of me. "I personally oversaw each and every step she took. I swear upon my devotion to Nanna and An himself that she is chosen. Enheduanna even showed her a vision of a coming plague of crickets. Isn't that right, Enheduanna?"

The name sounded like a warning, a final warning. I was Enheduanna, a high priestess, not the princess of Akkad I used to be. I had to act the part. A part of my enthusiasm died as I sat down on the throne that felt more like a cage now. "I saw the crickets black out the sun, wither the crops in a matter of moments."

I could hear a collective gasp throughout the room, more from the slaves than their masters this time. "But Nanna promised me that as long as I wrote, famine would not touch Ur." I swallowed, not daring to speak Inanna's name within this presence. 

"Of what shall you write, oh great En-priestess?" Lugal-ane asked.

Kituzda opened her mouth, only to turn around towards me before she could utter a word. I swallowed a lump. Inanna didn't tell me what I had to write about. What does one write about? For a moment, I was back in the palace. Back in my guarded room, where I would read about Gilgamesh or the conquests of Sumerian kings in the light of Nanna's moon. Stories in which I envisioned my father or brothers, but never myself. 

"The records of our history are filled with the exploits of great men, mostly kings, warrior, military leaders. This makes sense, as many of the monuments and documents that we have were, if not written, at least commissioned by them," I responded hesitantly. 

Lugal-ane picked up on my tone, "your words savor of discontent, Enheduanna. Care to elaborate?"

"I think that by writing only the exploits of great men, we forget the exploits of women." I voiced, before thinking the implications through. Another gasp, and this time both the lords and the priestesses look like they witnessed their deaths. 

But Lugal-ane laughed hard enough to break his beaded necklace. "Washing linens and baring children. Who would want to read about that?"

"Was it not a woman who bore you, lord Lugal-ane? Did she not suckle you when you were a babe?"

"She did. But it was my father who taught me how to throw a spear and handle a sling. Weapons with which I have protected my city more than once. With what weapons have you fought?"

I felt backed into a corner. Lugal-ane had a point. I didn't fight any battles, nor would I ever be of any use in a battle. All else is insignificant in comparison because battles were where our entire kingdom was built upon. Inanna, what was I meant to do? Why do I feel so lost every time I open my mouth? Where are your lions of dominants when I need them? As if on instinct, I glanced at the gilded statue of Nanna for comfort but received none. 

"I will do as Nanna commands of me." I announce, ending the ceremony with another anointment of the statue. 

The murmur among the nobles was loud enough to overpower the drums as I left the altar, Idal on my left and Kituzda on my right. With flushed cheeks and fidgeting fingers, she could barely contain herself until we were out of earshot. "What in the name of An were you doing? These men are the ones who keep Ur safe." 

I snorted, "safe? In Akkad, we call their behavior extortion. As Ningal reborn, I will not stand for this."

Kituzda blocked my path. "Don't act like you're immortal. Even Gilgamesh, he who uncovered what was hidden. He who brought back the tales from a time before the great flood. Even that man of complete wisdom was not immortal."

"This is where I disagree with you, Kituzda. Gilgamesh fulfilled his quest for immortality." Idal chimed in, placing his spear in front of Kituzda.

She didn't back away. "What nonsense do you spew, Idal?"

"The truth. We still read about Gilgamesh. He lives on with all who read his story."

"That is not immortality," the priestess huffed. 

"In a way it is."

Recognition rang in my ears. Immortality. Inanna spoke of immortality and its meaning. As long as I wrote, I would be immortal. Something about that still made little sense, but Idal's words made one thing clear to me. Immortality lay in the tablets.