title from "I, Claudius." : What can a dead man do? Go get yourself buried.
Only the people of the river could have given Anbuis life. Head of a Jackal, suit of gold, heart of an over-eager super-market clerk.
While he was actively employed was the most fun my job has ever been.
People have the wrong idea about Anubis, primarily. They think "death god" - not the case. Anubis didnt preside over death. Death is me. They also say "well alright, God of the Dead." No. Wrong. Osiris was the king of the underworld. Good guy, but a good deal stuffier as well. Anubis's techinical title in the land of the desert was, and I quote the book of the dead's latest translation: "God of Mummy Wrapping."
Let's all go ahead and admit, that's really. Really funny.
Now, to anyone else that's just stupid. People today in the east, in the west, wherever, think it's absolutely ridiculous to have a god that doesnt rule death, or the dead, but rather the binding of corpses in cere cloth. Even back in the day the Egyptian's neighbors were pretty skeptical of the idea. But to the Egyptians it was important, it was worth an entire deity to take command of the Rituals attending death. God of under-takers, god of treating and preserving and chanting the chants of the newly deceased.
Anubis was so -happy- to see new people.
He couldn't wait for people to die. It sounds morbid, but this was Egypt. He looked at a child and he started, from the moment they were born, to plan for meeting them on their deaths. Choosing the cloths, the jars, the jewels he would put in their hair, the waxes he would use to seal their lips and eyes. He made it his personal task to find the perfect place for everyone in the Duat.
He didn't have to, they didn't envision that for him. He just -wanted- to. He looked like a child with a new toy every time one of his people came to him. He showed them around, laughed with them, joked with them, this big tall, strapping figure glowing with his own divinity, barking out his jackal-laughs as Thumose this or Seneb that wandered with wide eyes just behind him, not really quite sure what to make of being dead.
You have to understand, nobody wants to die. The norsemen, Woden's folk, the hammer-and-ice kids in the frozen lands - they Tried, very hard, to make death a celebration. But in the end they were still afraid. No matter how many bards sang songs of glory and blood and made their harps dance to the tunes of the heroes conquests, they were still kinda scared. They werent absolutely sure they wouldnt wind up like the babylonians, wandering around eating dust for the next eternity. They couldnt know, and that bothered them like it bothers everybody.
But in Egypt Anubis spent your whole Life watching you and waiting to meet you on the other side. He held his breath during every battle, every time you crossed the road, because he wanted so much to be able to give you heaven. And that much dedicated yearning leaves its mark. People in Egypt were scared, I guess, of dying. But I think they were mostly scared about it hurting. There was too much love to really be frightened, it was too obvious, in the air and the sand. Anubis didnt' let his people shiver in the dark. He made scorpions seem downright friendly.
Not that everyone made it to heaven. I mean, there was the test. The heart of the dead was placed in the scales by Anubis himself, and it was weighed against the feather of Maat. The feather of Truth. If it was lighter than the feather, the deceased was free to travel with Anubis to heaven. If the heart was heavy with sin, it weighed more, and the heart was eaten by the Beast, the soul cast into.. into... I.. don't know what they called their hell. Anubis never mentioned it. It was bad, I remember that. It was all fiery and.. bad. But I mean, you had to Screw Up to get sent there. They even had a saying in Egypt: "The feather of Maat, is heavy indeed."
I'm talking more than I usually do because I'm sort of the last person who can say it. Anubis is not himself these days. He's taking it better than most, but there was desperation in his stake on Lucifer's Hell. Grasping at straws. I would have liked to see him back in business, but I could see it in him all the while. He knew he wouldn't have the chance. I think it really Hurt him when Islaam came. He talked once, with a servant of Allah, I think, but he never told anyone. I was.. I was kind of snooping around when I heard the end of the conversation. "...look after them?" There was no answer from the servant. But his smile wasn't nice, it was brass.
To be honest I hope he gives up the ghost sooner rather than later. I want the chance to wind him in cloth, and place the jade I have set aside for him on his temples and eyes. I want to be able to tell him that I truly liked having him around, and talk about old times as I pour the resins over him. I want to see him smell the spices, and get Excited again. It's not often that I wish for something. But then it's not often that people look at me and laugh, and he gave that to me. So I guess I just think that I owe him a few. I guess maybe I mean that I really, really liked him. A lot. And I don't know when or how to say that except when I know he'll understand.