THE SHAPE-SHIFTER

𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗦𝗛𝗔𝗣𝗘-𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗙𝗧𝗘𝗥

It all began way before I became the monarch of the most powerful empire in the world. When I was just a child, my father was cold, impassive and unwilling to care for anything but his inflated ego. I think I gleaned all my traits from him. My mother was no better. She was a pompous recluse who only wanted what would benefit her flawless skin and never-satisfied belly. Thus, I was a neglected child, though under the guidance of caretakers and tutors in different languages and skills. I vaguely knew I had siblings, but I was never allowed to interact with them. It was as though my father had set me aside for a bigger cause. I was barely fourteen when he began to take me alongside him to the battlefront and to witness the most gruesome executions. Each time I would whimper or shut my eyes or retch my meal on my boots, after squashing my mind with hurtful words, my father would order me to be given painful lashes on my bare back. In his own words, a crown prince needed to learn how not to be a coward. Slowly, I learnt the intricacies of cruelty and emotionlessness, coating my heart with layers upon layers of steel and stone. The moment I was crowned king at age eighteen after my father mysteriously died in his sleep, I ordered the massacre of my three brothers who I now saw as threats and thereafter promptly married off my younger sister to a distant ally.

Before I spiral further down the wormhole of casting blames and regrets, let me do a little bit of back-tracking to when the mess that is the focus of this humbling tale began.

I had just gotten back from leading a successful raid against rebellious Egypt and was in rather high moods.
A month before that, I got a Mede princess as a treaty gift. Princess Amytis was an alluring beauty, with an enchanting smile and the voice of an angel. I wanted to keep her as one of my many concubines, but then, I was rather intrigued by her intelligence in matters of war strategy and I knew immediately that she would make a formidable tool, so I took her as my legal bride. It was her advice that resulted in the success I now basked in, but I refused to give her credit for what I had done—hacking down both Egyptian royals and commoners alike, and raiding Egyptian storehouses. After all, Amytis was now my wife and I’d done for her what I hadn’t done for any one else—I commissioned the best architects in my entire jurisdiction to design and construct an architectural marvel, a stepped garden filled with lush flora and fauna. That should be enough recompense, enough proof that she was worth the exorbitant effort.

The night I returned from Egypt, after spending time unwinding in the soothing arms of my bride, I drifted off into a fitful sleep and I had a dream. Now the thing is this, I rarely dream. But on the few occasions I do, I always wake up with a gnawing sense that it is of utmost importance to me. As expected, I was quite suspicious that there were countless people plotting my assassination, so perhaps the gods were trying to warn me ahead of time. However, things were more complicated this time around. I couldn’t remember a single scene of my dream. Without wasting time, I summoned all the magi and wisemen in my realm and ordered them to tell me the dream and its interpretation. It was insane, impossible even, but I was relentless. The so-called wisemen fidgeted and confessed they couldn’t do anything unless I recalled and told them my dream. I was repulsed by their incompetence and flew into rage, ordering their immediate annihilation. If they couldn’t do this little task, they were all useless grasshoppers. But then, Beltshazzar showed up and pleaded for time. I obliged. The next day, he was back to my court and he narrated my dream in such accurate detail then proceeded to give me the disturbing interpretation—that unless I repented, I would live amid wild beasts for seven years.

Beltshazzar, or, as he insisted we call him, Daniel, vehemently warned me to humble myself and turn from my wicked ways. I was tempted to make an example of him for such treasonous words, but I couldn’t bring myself to incur the wrath of the council who considered Daniel the direct mouthpiece of the holy gods. Besides, I had huge respect for this man called Daniel, having seen the countless wonders he had wrought during my reign even from the time my troops carted the royal boys from Judea to indoctrinate them into Babylonian ways. Instead of getting on his wrong side, I offered him gifts, a subtle oblation to appease the higher power I had annoyed.
I tried to ignore his warning and even eased my cautions when after twelve months, nothing happened. Perhaps I had been worried over nothing.

Then, on the last day of my triumphant year, nemesis struck. I walked through the corridors of the newly completed hanging gardens of Babylon and looked at the expanse of my glorious kingdom.
‘This is my empire, the work of my hands,’ I thought. Swelling with thoughts of my accomplishments, I opened my mouth and uttered the most prideful statement ever which I thoroughly regret till this day.
I said, “Is not this the great Babylon I have built as the royal residence, by my mighty power and for the glory of my majesty?”

Like thunder, I heard the voice of a Watcher, akin to the one I’d heard in my dream, echoing from above and pronouncing judgement upon me. I have no idea whether my personal guards heard it too but they must have been frightened when they saw me fall to the ground, trembling like a leaf in a storm. In a matter of seconds, my body changed. The transformation was painful. I screamed and trashed but what came out of my throat was a mournful howl. My fingers curved and claws grew in the place of my manicured fingernails. My back hunched and long fangs grew where my canine teeth had been. I felt my hair follicles expanding at an alarming rate. Feeling uncomfortable, I ripped off my kingly robes from my fur-covered body.

I had never believed the mystic tales of werewolves and full moon shapeshifters that were circulated throughout Babylon. But, being a first hand partaker in broad daylight, I became an ardent believer in the supernatural.
My guards tried to hold me down but I must have slashed one or two in the face and drawn blood so they let go of me. They must have been very perplexed, laden with epic tales to tell whoever would believe them.
I bounded for the thickest and most treacherous forest in Babylon. I was stuck there for seven years with the wild beasts, eating grass and having the rain and sun beat down on me.
Throughout my ordeal, my mind was intact, sort of, but my body was not in my control. It was as though my body took a will of its own. I was miserable. I was repentant.

After seven years, I came to my senses. I returned to the palace a broken man and was quite surprised to see that my throne had not been usurped. Rather, my queen, Amytis, had done a fantastic role of filling the gap in my absence so much so that even the kingdom’s subject barely registered my absence. Amytis had cooked up a believable tale about me going on a long quest at sea.
And guess what? When I returned, I was greeted by my seven-year-old son—I gave him a new name, Belshazzar (you can guess why). It seemed Amytis had been with child before my punishment. She was so relieved to see me alive and later told me how she’d secretly sent out search parties to scour the entire region even going as far as the seaside borders and desert borders.
I realised that indeed Daniel’s God was the sovereign Lord of all, above all the measly gods I had devoted my heart to, who did nothing to help me. I vowed to pay my last obeisance to this God who had shown me that the hearts of kings are in his hands. So, in the royal annals, I wrote: “Now I, Nebuchadnezzar, praise and extol and honor the King of heaven, all of whose works are truth, and His ways justice. And those who walk in pride He is able to put down.”

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Author’s note: This, if you weren’t able to tell, is the fictionalised personal account of King Nebuchadnezzar in the Bible. I knew that his story told of the drastic measures God had to take to change a man’s heart beyond mere words. I hope this story enlightened you and made you understand that God’s ways are not our ways. Thanks for reading. I’ll appreciate your likes and comments.