The Anunnaki Purse

Chapter One

Ancient Times on Earth

The man’s head shot up like a startled animal in the deep woods. He straightened up as did the other six men who were tilling the small plot of land. His eyes went wide with concern. The noise he heard was the village alarm.

A flock of pigeons appeared in a tight knit group above the forest in the distance. They were the alarm.

The man, named Ras, knew the pigeons took to the air whenever someone or something entered the only pathway to his small village. His ancestors had trained the birds many generations ago by feeding them near the entrance to the trail. It was something the villagers did even to this today.

The tiny village was two days walk from the city of Qa’im in the fertile Mesopotamia valley. No one knew how long the settlement had been located near the small spring-fed river. Ras only knew he lived in his great-grandmother’s home.

In recent years there had been a series of conflicts among the many city-states in Mesopotamia and several villages had been ransacked and destroyed. These villagers did not want to be another casualty and had a plan to defend themselves.

Was it a bear? Ras pondered. Was it a friendly visitor or was it a raiding party from another village? All had entered the small valley during his lifetime.

Ras steeled himself for the worst case and raised his old wooden pitchfork. The other men did the same, just as twenty other people came running from their nearby homes with knives, axes, and any tool they could use to defend themselves. They had long ago resolved to not go down easy.

One of the women yelled out that, the children, old people, and most of the women had retreated to a hidden cave farther down the valley. Ras knew they would be safe, at least for a while.

Ras directed them to form a defensive line shaped like an arc in the open field. Their only archers were positioned on each end. There was only two of them. The women placed themselves directly behind their men. They brandished knives. The women would attack anyone who engaged their men in battle and stab the intruders while they were fighting with their men. The defense was an age-old strategy which sometimes worked. But it was the best the villagers could muster.

They were careful not to trample the fragile plants that would provide them with food—if they survived, but their movements kicked up dust from the arid soil. This caused visibility problems and caused everyone to choke. The farm land was not good for a battle, but it was what they had at their disposal.

They knew it would take some time for the invaders to navigate the woods. The forest was too thick to traverse and the path had several well positioned sharp turns and rocks forcing anyone using it to be extremely careful. Large rocks were also placed by the exit to slow down and hinder anyone from trying to rush through. They could only exit one at a time. The plan was to wait until a few invaders came through the opening. On the leaders’ mark, the archers would attempt to put them down, blocking the pathway. Then the rest of the people would attack.

Sweat began to form on their open skin while they waited their fate in the hot desert sun. The nervous villagers could do nothing but wait to see who emerged from the forest, be it friend or foe.

The fastest runner in the village, a woman, made her way to the edge of the path and positioned herself so she could see the last turn. She would be able to tell the villagers when and how many men were coming, then scoot back to the line.

Ras turned his head when he heard a noise behind him. It was six more women. They came rushing on to the battlefield. Two were just teenagers and one was his wife.

“What are you doing here?” he demanded. “You were to protect the children in the cave.”

“If the invaders break through our defense, all of us will die anyway. Better to go out fighting,” she calmly replied. Ras knew that death would not be easy for any women who survived the battle. They would be beaten, tortured, and raped before they were allowed to die. He nodded his head in agreement.

The woman spotter heard the sound of a horse snorting and the unmistakable rumble of at least one cart. She took a peek.

“They’re coming,” she frantically shouted and ran back to the defensive line.

The farmers and their women moved closer together as the archers pulled back on their bows. No one heard any sound but the thumping of their own heartbeats. All were focused on the end of the path and wondered if this was their last day alive.

A white horse soon appeared. It was followed by an ornate white carriage with a huge figure seated inside. It stopped as soon as it cleared the pathway entrance.

“Wait,” shouted Ras as he raised his arm. “It is our friend.”

Everyone dropped their weapon with a sigh of relief and rushed to help their visitor off his chariot. He had graced the village with periodic stopovers for many generations.

Only this time he seemed to move more slowly and needed help to get down from his chariot and even stand up.

The visitor was an imposing figure. He stood one and a half times taller than anyone in the village and had a burly build. A huge yellow tunic covered his entire body and scraped the dusty ground where he stood. In his large left hand, he held some sort of purse and in his other hand he gripped a pinecone shaped object. An ornament graced his left wrist and he had a necklace around his thick neck. He wore no other trinkets or baubles.

He had two additional features—they were remarkable. First was a set of feathered wings attached to his back. He also wore a large headdress that looked like an eagle’s head. Some believed he could actually be a man, but to all of them he was a god.

While he was very imposing, the people knew him to be gentle with them. His booming voice was frightening, but his words were filled with wisdom. He was a mentor to the village.

“Come,” he bellowed as he raised his large arm and pointed forward. “There is something I must tell you.” He then began shuffling slowly towards the center of the village. Everyone followed.

Soon, he was seated on a large platform which had been built for him many generations ago. He waited patiently for the children and elders to arrive from the hidden cave. The rest of the entire village stood in awe as they awaited his wisdom.

“Sick,” he announced without preamble. Five children and three others lined up in front of the god, just as they had done many times before. He waved the first child forward and examined the open sore on his shoulder. The god consulted his wrist ornament, turned the base of the pinecone and dipped it into his purse. He then touched the pinecone to the child’s arm while rubbing his head. The child didn’t flinch.

“It will heal in two days,” he said and waved the next person forward.

“I have a bad cough,” the small girl offered. The god checked his wrist band and adjusted the pinecone then dipped it into his purse before touching it against her tiny arm.

“You will feel better in three days,” the deity announced.

“Thank you, your highness,” the girl replied politely.

The deity responded sincerely. “My name is actually Enki. I am the last of the seven Anunnaki.” This stunned the whole village. He had never spoken anything personal before.

Every person in the vast land believed in the Anunnaki. They were known as the seven gods who seemed to be everywhere at once, dispensing wisdom and healing all who were sick or broken. In the cities, there were statues of them. Walls of buildings had carvings of them and many people had a stone tablet in their home with a depiction of one of the gods. They seemed to be everywhere all the time—until recently.

Their activities had decreased according to the people in the city of Qa’im. The city dwellers suspected something was not right. But the villagers noticed no difference as they watched the god perform his service.

When Enki was finished treating all who were damaged, the villagers got ready to leave, but the big man motioned them to wait and sit. Everyone complied.

“Usually, I would continue on my journey now,” the deity said. “But I have things to tell you.”

“We are all ears,” Ras replied encouragingly.

“Very well,” Enki acknowledged. “This is my last visit to your village.”

A huge gasp came from the crowd. The Anunnaki were a fixture in their lives. They had always come to their village.

“Who will protect us?” one woman wailed.

“I will teach you how to protect yourself for at least a generation before I leave here today,” the god responded.

“But another Anunnaki will surely come and replace you, right?” One of the women whined.

The god leaned forward with his arms on his knees in a relaxed manner. “There are no more Anunnaki. I am the last one. Our mission is over.”

“But why must you abandon us now? These are troubling times with war and disease everywhere,” another woman howled.

“When my brothers and sisters arose from the underworld, we found people were not complete. They were weak, sickly and barely able to cope with staying alive. We have watched over you and made you much stronger and capable since then. Unfortunately, your growth has also brought war and conflict. You will have to deal with it from now on.”

The shock from what the god said was reflected on everyone’s face. No one knew what to say.

“May we ask you some questions?” Ras asked.

“This is your time to speak,” the mentor replied in agreement.

“We have followed you from our village many times,” Ras admitted. “Your tracks just end. Why is that?”

“I’ve had many villages and cities to watch over. My cart flew me to them.”

“So, you are a real god with magical powers?”

“We were simple men of our land and were chosen to watch over you and given the means to do so.”

“From the underworld?”


“How do we get there?”

“None of you are invited there. It is only for us Anunnaki.”

“How long have you helped people?”

“When I started my mission, this village didn’t exist. In fact, there were no villages back then.”

“You are clearly dying. Will you die here in our village?”

“As soon as we are done here, I will return to the underworld like my brothers and sisters. I will remain there to die.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“It has all been ordained. I have no control over my fate. Now, send me your wisest person,” the deity asked.

Ras was voted to be the one to represent the village. He rose and approached the god with his head down in reverence.

“The rest of you should return to your homes now. What I have to say is for Ras only. Stay there until summoned.”

As soon as the villagers left, Enki added some omissions. “I am not actually dying, but rather changing. My brothers and sisters and I will still watch over people, but we will do less to protect you. You are complete now.”

“What do you mean?”

“We have taught you all we can. You have learned how to grow crops, use tools, write, and have expanded your mind. There is nothing more I can teach you.”

“But what about your magic?” Ras asked. “Who will teach us that?”

“There is no magic. What you believe is magic is actually science. Your race will understand it soon.”

Enki told Ras to remove his headdress. The farmer went to lift the object, but found it too heavy for him. He stood in shame in front of the Anunnaki.

“It is too heavy for me to lift alone,” Ras said quietly.

“That is because you are a mere mortal,” the deity replied. “You are not an Anunnaki. It’s a lesson you must never forget once I show you how to use my parting gift.”

“But you said you are changing. Can I see your actual face?”

“I’m afraid it will frighten you.”

“I can be no more frightened than I am already,” Ras replied. “I want to know what your face looks like.”

The Anunnaki said nothing for some time as he debated the proper response. “Very well, but just for a second.”

He grabbed the headdress on both sides and lifted. What was revealed made Ras step back in horror and stare. It was the head of the most feared creature he knew.

The mask hid a reptile head, complete with yellow eyes and a forked tongue. Dark green scales covered the skull and neck. The monstrous eyes seemed to look everywhere at once.

The Anunnaki quickly lowered the covering and set it back in place. He said nothing and waited for Ras to absorb his strange features, or run away.

After a few minutes, Ras said, “no wonder the statues and carvings of you and your brothers always show you in a headdress.”

“Yes, that is correct,” Enki said with a nod. “However, this is my true body. The morphism to a reptilian form has just begun. Soon, I’ll become inhuman and cold-blooded. I must be back in the underworld by then. We do not have much time.”

Ras thought he detected a slight lisp in the god’s statement and believed the change was affecting his speech. “So, why do you always wear a headdress to cover your features?”

“We are often worshipped as gods in not only this fertile valley, but in many faraway places by people with very different features and colored skins. The Anunnaki had been everywhere there has been people and villages. We never wanted people to be afraid of us, so we wore headdresses.”

“But where are you actually from?”

“As I told you,” the deity patiently replied. “We are regular men and women who were chosen to help the people. We were whisked away to the underworld and our bodies were changed to enhance us and give us powers. The change in our bodies is part of the plan.”

“By whom? Who changed you?”

“Our creators,” the old man responded. “They are not from here.” Enki said then looked toward the sky.

“Are our village people made by the same creator?”

“We are all from the same deities, but man has had many flaws. The Anunnaki were sent to help correct them.”

“So, someone or something controls everything we do?”

“I wouldn’t say that, but they surely know what you do. Now we must proceed, time is running out.”

“I am ready,” Ras announced as he stood up straighter.

“First of all,” Enki started. “You may have noticed that almost all of our statues and carvings are the same with some different headdresses. We always wear a bracelet on our wrists and carry a satchel in one hand. In the other is a device disguised in the shape of a pinecone.”

“Yes,” Ras responded positively. “And you use it every time you come here. We don’t know why.”

“These devices are not magic and you should be able to use them too Ras.”

“What do they do?”

“They are meant to heal people. Look at the bracelet. It has four sections in different colors. Red is for fever, green is for broken bones, blue is for open sores and yellow strengthens the body and the mind.”

“I think I understand,” Ras replied. “I have seen you consult the bracelet before.”

“And used it to heal your people,” Enki added.

“But I have never seen you use the yellow color before.”

“That’s because I haven’t used it in a long time, but I will use it on you.”


“To make you better able to cope with the task ahead you need to be smarter and stronger.”

“The liquid will do that?”

“Yes, and more. Your mind will expand and your strength will double,” the god explained.

“That is unbelievable,” Ras replied in awe.

The deity didn’t waste time with details. “Now once you determine the illness, you use the other device. Notice the symbols on the bracelet? You turn the back end of the device to match the same symbol. A fine needle will appear. See?” The god turned the back of the pinecone to the red symbol and showed the needle to Ras.

“We never noticed the needle,” Ras said with astonishment.

“You were not meant to,” Enki replied. “I diverted your eyes by touching the forehead of the ill people.

“I didn’t know…”

“Next look into the purse,” Enki said with a hint of a hiss as he interrupted.

When Ras peered into the purse, he saw four colored round balls. Each had what looked like a liquid inside. “I see four round objects.”

“Correct,” the god uttered. “Push the needle into the properly colored balls and then pull it out quickly. The seal on the ball will always prevent the liquid from escaping. Next, take the pinecone and insert it into the arm of the person who is ill. That is all you must do to heal the person.”

“It seems so simple,” Ras admitted.

“Yet it is a most powerful healing tool.”

“And I can use it over and over until the liquid is gone, right?”

“It should last you a long time Ras, but use it wisely.”

“I will,” the farmer promised.

“Now, let me now raise your mind and strength,” the god said. He dipped the pinecone into the yellow liquid and pressed it against the farmer’s arm. Ras immediately felt more powerful and mentally sharper.

“But people will want to steal something this powerful,” Ras admitted.

“Which is why I have built you a hiding place,” Enki told him.

“A hiding place?”

The god reached into the purse and extracted a small trinket on a necklace. “You will wear this at all times, never take it off.”

The trinket glittered in the strong sun. Ras had never seen anything like it.

“It is made from the most precious metal on earth. It is called gold. You must find more and keep it. You can use it to barter and trade.”

Ras took the small shiny object and looked at it. It had no external markings. “What is it?”

“Rub it with your hand,” the god explained.

When Ras did as was asked, a flap opened at the bottom of the rock platform. It was big enough to fit the purse inside. He looked at Enki and started to ask a question.

“But when did…?”

“I built it some time ago,” the god said as he cut him off. “Put the purse in it. You need to put the purse in its hiding after you use it. No one can know where it is located. I must go now.”

Ras helped the old man up feeling his new strength and walked with him to the edge of town. The white horse and carriage were already there. The deity seemed to make a colossal effort to climb aboard and collapsed on the seat.

“Goodbye my children,” Enki said in a very weak raspy voice. The white horse immediately took off running and soon entered the pathway out of the valley. Ras ran after them, but when he reached the exit, he found the cart was but a speck in the sky.

On his way back to the village, Ras was sad, confused, but also elated.

Nonetheless, he vowed to take care of his people. He had already decided to inject all of them with the yellow liquid to also make them stronger and smarter. He would go to every individual home and explain what he knew. This he did for several cycles of the sun. When Ras realized the liquids would last longer than he would live, he took it upon himself to write everything he knew down on a small stone tablet He had also given himself a second injection. He kept the writings he made with the purse. That way he could pass on the gift even after he had died.

The village prospered and soon was the envy of several other villages in the area. They built new homes and expanded their farmland while educating their children. This made them the envy of the known world and also a target.

One day the hordes came and slaughtered every man, woman, and child in the village. They took the land and the homes for themselves. In the end, no one knew about the secrets of the Anunnaki purse. Its protectors were all dead

No one looked nor found the hidden purse. It stayed buried under the platform for thousands of years.