⛓️ Anubis’ Prisoner: The God of the Ancient Forests Anubis, the Egyptian god of the underworld, lay by a sacred sarcophagus in the Duat, listening to a strange, rhythmic thud that vibrated through time and space. As the jackal god’s immortal attention slipped away, he fell into a deep sleep. He awoke abruptly to a sharp pain and an overwhelming light. He was not in the Duat, but lying on his back under an unknown, alien sky. He was still Anubis, with his black jackal head and his mighty divine form. But he could not move. During his sleep, he had been captured. Thick, braided ropes made of strong plant fibers and animal sinews were tightened around his arms and legs, holding him down to the damp forest floor. Above him stood a group of men. They were dressed in skins and feathers, their faces painted with red and black stripes – Indians. They carried spears and bows, and their eyes were wide with a mixture of fear, awe, and warlike respect. "A demon, sent from the West Winds!" cried one of the younger men in a language that Anubis intuitively understood through his divine essence. The oldest man, the leader, Standing Bear, stepped forward. His gaze was fixed. He had never seen anything like it: a figure with the body of a man, but the head of a wild, black jackal. He knew this was a being of great power, either a Spirit or a powerful enemy. "What spirit has brought you to our land?" Standing Bear demanded. Anubis tried to break free from the rope. Even though he was a god, the ropes held him—they were woven with herbs that resembled the magical curses he knew from Egyptian sorcerers. "I am Anubis!" he growled, his voice a deep, resonant sound that made the earth vibrate. "I am the master of mummification! I am the leader of the dead! Release me, mortals!" His words only made the Indians more convinced that they were facing a powerful but malevolent being. They lifted him, still bound, and carried him through the forest toward their camp. He, the god, was carried like prey. When they arrived at the village, the people fell to their knees in shock at the sight of the black jackal-man. They tied Anubis to a large totem pole in the middle of the square, close to the sacred fire. Anubis, the God, was confused and humiliated. He stared at the flames, the unfamiliar symbols on the teepees, and the fearful faces. He who guarded souls was now a prisoner of the living in a time and a land he had never known. He knew he had to use his wisdom, not his power, to escape. His survival—and his return to the Duat—now depended on his understanding of the customs and beliefs of this people.