In the ancient days when the gods walked the earth and the boundaries between the divine and the mortal were as thin as a papyrus reed, there lived two brothers, Anubis and Bata. Anubis was the elder, a man of house and land, while Bata was the younger, a youth of extraordinary strength and spirit who could understand the language of the cattle he tended. They lived in harmony until a shadow fell over their household. The wife of Anubis, consumed by a misplaced desire and then by a vengeful spite when Bata rejected her advances, accused the younger brother of a terrible crime. This lie forced Bata to flee for his life, pursued by his brother in a blind rage. It was only through the intervention of the sun god Re-Horakhty, who placed a crocodile-infested lake between the two, that Bata was able to explain his innocence. To prove his purity, Bata performed a ritual of self-sacrifice and declared his intention to leave the land of Egypt forever, traveling to the distant and mysterious Valley of the Pine, located in the rugged mountains of what is now Lebanon.
Upon arriving in the Valley of the Pine, Bata found himself in a land of towering trees and cool, mist-laden air, a sharp contrast to the sun-baked silt of the Nile. He was alone, yet he was a master of his own fate. He built for himself a tower of cedar and stone, and in an act of profound mystical preservation, he removed his heart and placed it atop the highest flower of a great pine tree. He knew that as long as his heart remained safe and elevated, he could not truly die, even if his body were to fail. He spent his days hunting the wild game of the mountains and his evenings watching the stars, but the silence of the valley began to weigh heavily upon him. He was the only human soul in a vast wilderness of green and grey. His only companions were the trees and the wind, and though he was safe from the wrath of his brother, he was a prisoner of his own solitude.
High above the earthly realm, the Ennead—the Great Council of the Gods—observed the world from their celestial barques. Re-Horakhty, the Great Sun, looked down upon the Valley of the Pine and saw the lone figure of Bata sitting by his fire. The gods were moved by the sight of the young man who had sacrificed so much for his honor. They remembered his hard work in the fields of Egypt and his kindness to the animals. Re-Horakhty spoke to the gathered deities, noting that it was not right for a man of such virtue to live out his days in isolation. The gods agreed that Bata deserved a companion, not merely any woman, but one who was worthy of a man who had given his heart to the heights of the earth. They summoned Khnum, the ram-headed potter of the gods, who fashions the bodies of all living things upon his divine wheel using the clay of the Nile.
Khnum set to work with a fervor he usually reserved for kings. He took the finest essences of the divine realm and mixed them with the fertile spirit of the earth. As the wheel spun, a form began to emerge—a woman of such stunning beauty that she seemed to glow with an inner light. Into her limbs, Khnum infused the grace of the gazelle; into her skin, he placed the softness of the lotus petal; and into her eyes, he poured the depth of the midnight sky. Every god of the Ennead contributed a portion of their own essence to her creation, ensuring that she possessed every physical perfection imaginable. When Khnum was finished, she was not just a mortal being, but a vessel of divine artistry. She was the most beautiful woman in the world, surpassing even the queens of old. However, as the gods looked upon her, the Seven Hathors—the goddesses of fate—approached. They did not sing songs of joy, but spoke with a single, somber voice. They looked at the beautiful creation and pronounced her destiny: 'She shall die by the sword.'