The Book of the Dead

A Divergent Fanfiction by Sarah Sanderson

It should be noted that I wrote this chapter under the unfortunate influence of the worst hang over I have ever had, although I would like to point out that this is more a result of my negligence to eat enough food and drink water rather than an overabundance of alcohol consumption. As it is I find I rather enjoy the windy and overly wordy writing style the hang over induces in me, and it is strangely appropriate for this opening chapter as our story starts in the waiting place between life and the afterlife where things are often distorted beyond recognition as the space of nothing warps around the something that is paradoxically there. Waiting.

Here I shall leave a disclaimer for anyone who is as muddled in the mind as me on this bitter day or would simply like some reassuring though the reaffirming of the facts: The Author of the Divergent Series is Veronica Roth, so therefore I do not nor shall I ever lay claim to the series as my own for I am not her and she is not me. And I'm surprisingly happy that way. I am also not claiming to the be owner of the religion of the ancient peoples of Egypt referenced within this story, because frankly that would be absurd. A person cannot own a religion, especially one that pre-dates their birth by at least two millennia, and the closest a person could ever come to owning or laying true claim to a religion would be the Pope, which I am sure you can tell from my present state of hung-over-ness I most certainly am not.

Chapter 1: Osiris Waiting

Osiris stared though the bleak nothing that filled the space to the girl just beyond it who was most certainly not nothing. She was curled up in what might have been considered a fair approximation of a dark corner, could such a thing as a dark corner exist in the place of waiting. Her long blonde hair fell over her down turned head and spilled onto her knees like a crashing wave of sunlight. She was trying to ignore the wait. They always did. It is a strange thing to wait for something in a place where time is not only not a constant force but most often does not even both to exist at all. She could have been waiting for a mere few seconds, or she could have been waiting a millennia. As it was Osiris, the only other current occupant of the waiting place knew exactly how long she had been there, because he had seen her leave the living place and had waited for her in the place where the dead go. He had waited years but still she had not come. He soon learned why, but saw no reason to inform her of that until now.

He moved closer to her though the nothing, trying to pierce the layer of hair over her face with his sharp eyes. It was a very unusual thing for someone to be waiting here, because in order to wait a person must be waiting on something to happen, and after death the only thing that really happened was what came next. Waiting was never really part of the equation – until her.

She wanted to go through the Trials with him Osiris thought in her direction. Yes, she thought back, almost like a plead for help. Osiris was not in the business of helping the dead. At least not anymore. And certainly not her. She must have heard him because her head shot up and suddenly she was staring straight into his green-skinned face. Her eyes where both blue and grey, like a storm at sea. The kind that sends sailors to Osiris and the survivors mad. Most people would not stare like you stare at a God.

I'm not most people. Then a pause, like she was pulling all her strength together like strings in a knot. Is he coming?

Yes Osiris replied in the same hissing whisper of a thought as she had used before. Like the affirmative was a great secret somehow. One word can hold so many meanings. Many of which should never be thought of loud where others can feel them. Tobias Eaton was coming. Osiris had gone to the place the living are to see him die himself. He would pass this way and take the girl with him without even realising. It is good that she waited, for him. Osiris doubted the boy would survive the trials without her help, or more importantly without her Book. That was another thing that should never be thought too loud. The thing everyone knows about but to acknowledge it means the end. Like imaginary friends and fairies a child sees with their eyes closed, or whispers too behind the adults backs. Acknowledge it and it's gone, it cannot be. Acknowledge the girls book and it will be gone, and more importantly so will she. Osiris would have to trend carefully with this one. Making her more of a nuisance than before.

He will not remember you Osiris told her, more for spite than to be informative. The girl gritted her teeth and hardened her stare, but seemed to be seeing past Osiris to something more. But he will find me, or I will find him. We shall have new memories together. Osiris began to fade away, time long since passed for him to be gone. But what are memories in the oblivion? He could not help but ask. Her reply was swift, and he was not sure if she even meant him to hear it, or she just thought and believed it with such force it seemed to echo in the empty spaces around them. Everything.

Osiris watched from just beyond the edge of the waiting space as the boy Tobias passed though and the girl went with him – his guardian in the trials to come. Unaware that by protecting her he had endangered her twice over with the Book. Osiris felt rather than saw their minds and beings entering the shells of them who had been inhabiting the place of the trials until now, props in other people's stories. It was a human sentiment and he was not sure whether he even meant it but considering the obstacles she was about to face the thought escaped Osiris before he could even really acknowledge it. Good Luck, Beatrice Prior.

Sorry for the short chapter, it's really more of a prologue. I will update soon I promise, and there will be actual speech and actions and so forth in the following chapters I swear. I'm not making it too obvious how this whole scenario works but that is on purpose I assure you, and all will be reviled in time…

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