Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Author's Note: Many, many thanks to my betas, Anjali Organna and Acadine.
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The Names of Apep
Prologue || Passage Through the Gates of Night
Dawn was approaching. The great expanse of sky above Egypt was still dark, but the stars had begun to fade and the slightest hint of pink glowed in the east. Re would soon emerge from Duat and be born again as daybreak. The solar bark, mandjet, awaited him just beyond the eastern horizon, and he would begin anew his daily voyage across the body of the sky goddess, Nut.
The east burst with color now, soft reds and pinks reaching out to streak the dim sky. Leading the dawn was the distant mandjet, the faint outline of Khepri, the sun god's scarab form, at the head of the vessel. The sun rose as one with the bark and soon the dawn had melted into the bright day.
Noon came and Re assumed his most common form, that of an immaculate falcon-headed man. The sun rose to its highest point and scorched the desert land below. The creatures of the earth sought refuge from the sweltering sun and even the delta lands were bare of any living things. Re continued on.
Another bark, mesektet, awaited Re at the end of his daily journey. The high noon passed gradually into dusk, the colors of day fading into the west. He became Atum-Re, taking the appearance of an elderly man at the end of a long life, and finished the voyage through the evening. As he left mandjet for mesketet, night enclosed the world.
He was to travel through the underworld now, and emerge at the end of the night as dawn again. The cycle was nearly as old as time itself, the routine never faltering since Chaos had been sorted out into an orderly universe.
As Re entered the realm of Duat, something stirred. In the primeval waters of Nun a force angrily churned the ancient ocean about it. It was a terrible creature, great in power and greater in cruelty. It had spent its existence biding its time in the primordial ocean, feeding off its hatred and growing stronger with its desire to overthrow its converse. It finally left Nun and slithered to Duat, hiding itself in a dark cavern of the underworld, waiting and watching....
Re navigated on through the underworld, accompanied by an entourage of pharaohs who had fashioned themselves Sa Ra, sons of Ra, in their lives. The company was silent and tranquil, unaware of the embodiment of chaos and turmoil that awaited near the end of the passage through Duat.
Twelve gleaming, obsidian gates marked the interior of Duat. The souls of the pharaohs stirred as the first gate opened, but Re remained still. He knew what lay beyond each gate, and now was not the time for unease.
The mesektet glided noiselessly through the gate, entering a fire-filled chamber. Anguished wails of lost souls resounded through the chamber as Re passed easily through the lake of fire. The second and third gates differed from the first only in the feature that tormented the grief-stricken souls: one holding a perpetual winter, the other a parched land of eternal drought.
The fourth chamber was as desolate as the previous three, and yet hope lingered here. Newly deceased souls, the ba, wandered alongside the shadowy river of Duat, searching for the Hall of Judgment. When they perceived the mesektet of Amun-Re, they followed it at a distance from the river's banks, recognizing the powerful god they had worshipped in life.
The fifth gate led only to another stretch of land resembling that of the Nile valley. The ba hesitated when they caught sight of the sixth gate, much taller and grander than any of the preceding gates.
Amun-Re stood as the mesektet passed through, his ram-head held up regally. The pharaohs knelt respectfully behind him, their heads bowed in silent prayer. They were entering the Hall of Judgment.
The Hall of Judgment was more magnificent than any room of any earthly palace. The highly-polished stone of the chamber gleamed in the light of torches lining every side of the hall. The river through the underworld cut narrowly through the far side of the chamber.
What made the space so resplendent were the divinities within it. Osiris sat upon his throne, dressed as a king with a tall crown adorned with ostrich feathers. He was flanked by the goddesses Isis and Nephthys, who gazed pensively at the dead awaiting their judgments.
Before the three was a scale weighing the hearts of the ba against the feather of truth. The jackal-headed Anubis carefully checked the scales and the results were recorded by Thoth. Hearts of sinners would weigh the balance down over the feather. Ammut, a monster that was dog, lion, and hippopotamus, lurked beneath the scale, waiting to devour the hearts of sinners.
Amun-Re stepped out of his bark for the first time that night. Osiris arose from his throne and went to meet him. The two embraced, replenishing each other's life sources. When they broke apart, they inclined their heads respectfully to each other but exchanged no words. Osiris returned to his place and the sun god set off again in his bark.
The seventh chamber of Duat was much the same as the fifth: an Egyptian landscape with wandering ba along the river. The pharaohs began murmuring and even Re tensed as they entered the eighth gate. Their murmuring grew louder and more fervent.
A shriek pierced the air as the eighth gate swung shut noiselessly behind them. A black, shapeless thing swooped over the bark, screeching at a pitch that would have destroyed any living mortal's ears. The chanting pharaohs did not falter though their words were indistinguishable. Re's voice suddenly rang out, booming powerfully.
"Be gone! Demon of Duat, dare not come near the God of the Sun!"
The demon screeched once more but disappeared into the dark depths of the underworld. Anything else lurking within the dim eighth chamber must have feared the god's power because nothing else challenged him as the bark sailed on.
The pharaohs continued chanting their invocation. They knew that beyond the ninth gate were the most malevolent creatures they'd ever encountered in the underworld. The mesektet propelled them into the ninth chamber of the night.
The chamber had the stagnant, rank air of a tomb that had been sealed for years. Quite unlike a tomb, however, the chamber was neither dark nor silent. It was filled with a blinding white light and whispers of a thousand grievous memories echoed around the room.
As the whispers grew louder, so did the chanting pharaohs. The chamber grew cold and the air seemed to smother the bark. Unseen walls seemed to slowly close in on them. Re stood as the whispers became a horrific cacophony of wailing children, screaming women, and weeping men.
The god swept his right arm into the air, forming the symbol for life. Tracing the ankh, a cross crowned with a loop, seemed to slow the closing in sensation though it did not cease.
There was a clang of metal, as of two swords clashing together, and all sound stopped immediately. The silence was complete; even the pharaohs were mute though they still chanted with all their strength. The intense light faded somewhat though still nearly blinding. All that could be discerned was a thick pall of fog, obscuring the sight of whatever else lay in the chamber.
The wail of a babe rang out, breaking the fragile silence, and suddenly, the bark was rocked violently. Thin, skeletal hands crept over the sides of the vessels, reaching out to the pharaohs, who desperately imitated their god's gesture of the ankh. A cloud of silver mist enveloped the mesketet and the hands recoiled back to the depths of the river. All sound flooded back abruptly and the mesketet navigated quickly to the tenth gate, out of the Alcove of Fear and Death.
The atmosphere beyond the tenth gate was unusually calm and still. Re did not sit as the bark floated gently along the tranquil tenth chamber. He gazed around, clearly mistrustful of the apparent serenity. He did not relax until the mesketet advanced through the eleventh gate.
The eleventh chamber appeared as peaceful as the tenth. Re's entourage eased as well, knowing that beyond the next gate was safety. The twelfth gate led out of Duat, into the sunrise. The mesketet was nearly halfway there when something glided beneath it. The thing barely caused a ripple but it alerted all of the bark's passengers immediately. Re stood at once and as he did, a horrible shriek ripped through the air. Scarcely a moment later the shriek was accompanied by a massive serpentine creature, easily twice the size of the mesketet. It rose from water's depths, rising to directly strike Re from the front. The serpent opened its jaws, revealing jet-black fangs. Re, taken by surprise, raised his arms to deflect the beast but it was too late. . . .
***
A young man raised his bowed head suddenly. He had been performing his daily catharsis, kneeling before the pool in the temple's courtyard and praying. The perfumed smoke coming from a small chamber behind him had made drowsy, but he did not think he had fallen asleep. But the dream… if he did not fall asleep, what had that vision been?
Before he could ponder this further, he noticed the water of the pool growing darker. It no longer reflected the sun's light, but resembled the sea during a great storm, murky and seething.
He shifted his inquisitive gaze to the sky and realized that it wasn't just the pool. Though it was midmorning, the entire sky grew dark. It was if a heavy shroud had been thrown over the sun. Within seconds, total darkness had swallowed the land.
The young priest faltered as he tried to stand. He heard the footsteps of someone racing through the temple's halls towards the courtyard. Moments later he felt a tight grip on his arm, though he could not make out the person in the total blackness.
"Nakhti, come!"
Nakhti hesitated as the man tried to tug him away from the pool.
"Nakhti, we must go at once! My son, the great god Re has been overcome!"