The Rev Septimius Sidebottom was restless, his wife Wilomeana had gone to sleep, but Septimius was wide awake. He had spent last week down at the Bodleian Library in Oxford undertaking research. For years he had been attempting to understand a language that had been imprinted on clay tablets. The tablets had been found alongside a child’s sarcophagus, each tablet had been painted a different colour then wrapped in gold.
Septimius could not bring himself to get out of the warm bed, instead he allowed his thoughts to wander back to the tablets. The richness of their colours had been what first attracted him to them.
If such tablets had been given to a child, the wealth of such a family must have been beyond belief. Yet no element on any of the tablets related to what was known about ancient Egypt. So Septimius now wondered if perhaps the child and its family had been visiting Egypt. Frustrated Septimius gave way to thirst and went downstairs to the kitchen. Whilst waiting for the kettle to boil, he stepped into the garden. As he looked up at the night sky a display from the Aurora Borealis gave him his answer.