Okay. Finally I am publishing this! This fic has been sitting in my Document Manager since March, unfinished, because I couldn't find a copy of The Red Pyramid anywhere. But now, with the advent of my friend Apolla Broadpath's audiobook, I can finally get started!
All the gods contained in one hall. Ordinarily the physical being of the architecture would be slightly strained at most, but today, what with the revelry and excitement and the powers of every deity loosened by their joy, it's a wonder the place doesn't blow apart.
I keep my distance, leaning against a pillar, staying in human form, as opposed to the other gods who are fluidly shifting form from one moment to the next. I'm not a reveler. Of course, I'm happy for Isis and Osiris. But I can celebrate quietly, rather than express my gladness in loud and exuberant festivities. I've always been that way. Being the god of funerals does that to you.
I'm lost in thought, so it takes me a few moments to register what has just appeared in front of me.
It's not a physical presence, obviously, I can tell from the shimmering halo of light and the slight transparency, like a mirage on a hot day far from the Nile - and the bird body is also a definite clue. I can only see the back of the head, but this spirit is female, with long golden hair, which - I blink - has red streaks down the sides. As though she smeared cochineal powder in her hair. Who would do that? It's an interesting combination, though, the gold and red. Like a fire.
I feel compelled to speak. "Are you a ghost?"
The spirit turns, and I give a barely perceptible gasp. It's a girl who, by the looks of her, seems somewhat younger than my human form does - perhaps twelve or thirteen. But it's not that that catches my breath. This girl's face, with those regal features, looks like Isis. A faint similarity, perhaps, but it's there. How is this possible? I'd say she was hosting Isis, but Isis is standing in the throne room, laughing along with Osiris. I can see her if I shift my gaze. Yet the two eerily similar faces are both there, defying logic.
The girl shakes her head, seeming as speechless as I am. I wonder why that is. She'd have a right to be speechless in front of Set or Osiris. Not in front of my humble self.
"Not a ghost, eh?" I'm making a supreme effort to act casual. It seems to be working. "A ba, then?" Of course. That's it. I point at the throne. "Watch, but do not interfere." I myself don't find these festivities amusing, but I know that any mortal would pay their soul to be able to attend a celebration of the gods. Without further ado I relax control and allow my substance to drift into the Duat, hoping to dissuade the questions that this girl evidently wants to ask. I only stay in first level though, the thinnest layer that lets me still watch what's going on.
It's lucky I do it. That way I'm invisible when Set arrives.
I feel the hot wind blow through the hall and brace myself a millisecond before the doors slam open and Set enters the room. Through the lens of the Duat, I can see his true form: a whirling column of flaming sand. Chaos. Destruction. I remind myself that he is an essential part of the gods. He keeps the balance by destroying what has grown old, unused, unwanted, and by making sure that nothing becomes monotonous machinelike regularity. But I can't stop a shiver of foreboding. Today of all days, the sand is spinning faster than ever. Something is going on.
Osiris sees it too. "Set," he demands, rising. "Why have you come?"
Set laughs, and I can feel the atmosphere relax. But the column of sand is still spinning too fast for my liking. "I come to celebrate my brother's birthday, of course!" I don't trust this. "And I bring entertainment!"
He signals, and a group of wolf-headed men carry a sarcophagus into the room. I can hear everyone gasp. It's a beautiful thing, inlaid with hieroglyphs and jewels. Even I, who have seen every sarcophagus in history, am appreciative. The hieroglyphs dance in my eyes, and the jewels catch the light and throw it in sparkling reflections... It's utterly mesmerizing. As I stare at the artistry, I lose my train of thought for a moment. What was I thinking? It doesn't matter. This box is surely the most beautiful form of art I've ever seen.
"This sleeping casket was made by my finest craftsmen, using only the most expensive materials." Set's talking again. "Its value is beyond measure. The god who lies within, even for a night, will see his powers increase tenfold. His wisdom will never falter. His strength will never fail." Isis doesn't seem too happy about the way Set is using only the word "he". "It is a gift for the one and only god who fits within perfectly!" Is it my imagination, or did he look at Osiris with those words?
There's an uproar as everyone surges forward. I rematerialize and leave the Duat, but as soon as I reappear, I realize it won't work. I know all about sarcophagi, being the god of funeral rites, and I can see that the beautiful casket is too big. Too big for both the jackal form and for the human form. So I hang back, wishing I could rise to the challenge. Something about the hieroglyphs inscribed on the golden metal draws me forward.
Finally Set laughs and turns toward Osiris. "Well, brother, we have no winner yet. Will you try? Only the best of gods can succeed."
Isis laid a hand on Osiris's shoulder. "My lord, do not. Set does not bring presents."
For a moment, I feel a flicker of unease. Is Set up to something?
"I am offended!" Perhaps he isn't. The hurt in Set's voice sounds real. "Can I not celebrate my brother's birthday? Are we so estranged that I cannot even apologize to the king?"
Osiris seems to agree. "My dear, it is only a game. Fear nothing."
Well, if it's only that... I begin to wonder if we have misjudged Set. Then I spot the ba girl, Isis's lookalike, still by the pillar where I left her. Her eyes are wide in - anger? Supplication? Fear? Her mouth is open in silent protest, but she is minding my directive to not interfere.
Something is about to happen. This girl knows it. She has Isis's face and the feeling of a god's power. And for some reason, I trust her judgement. Absolutely.
"All hail Osiris!" cries Set. I'm too late. Osiris is lowering himself into the casket.
A cheer goes up, but it's short lived. Set claps his hands and a golden lid appears, hovering over the box. I just have time to register that it's just as beautiful as the rest of the sarcophagus before it slams down. The boom as it lands is the arrival of a new age, and the end of the present.
Immediately the sarcophagus seems less entrancing, the hieroglyphs less mesmerizing. The jewels no longer throw sparkling reflections around the room. An enchantment, to hold us all blind? Perhaps.
A cauldron appears over the sarcophagus and coats it in molten lead. Nothing could escape now. I am stunned, frozen in horror, like the others, at what is unfolding before my very eyes. Only Isis does something, if only to cry out, "Villain!" The shout breaks the silence, and Set turns on her. Her mouth begins framing the words of a spell, but his reaction is quicker.
With Isis in his hold, and Set gloating, I look around for options. Next to me is a woman in a blue dress, her throat adorned with green gems. Set's wife.
"Nephthys," I whisper.
She turns, as if in a trance, to look at me.
"Do something."
Her eyes snap wide open, and she shoves through the crowd to reach Set. "Husband, no!"
As she plows into Set, Isis lands on the ground. She gasps for a moment, but when Nephthys yells, "Flee!" regains her feet and runs.
"Foolish wife! Whose side are you on?" After dismissing the casket, Set races after Isis, who turns into a kite and takes wing. From the corner of my eye, I see the ba girl look up, surprised, then dissolve into a golden mist that flows towards Isis, who is now flying away. It's barely perceptible, and I don't think anyone else noticed. But it leaves me puzzled. How can the girl be hosting Isis? Yet how can she not be, as all the signs point to it?
The crowd immediately disperses. Everyone is in shock. What has just happened? A hostile takeover to the throne - unexpected - we should have foreseen - what now? Will Isis - will Set - The murmurs travel around the room, yet there's no answer.
Okay, that was VERY hastily ended, but I promised someone I'd finish it by a certain time today, so yeah. Sorry if I depicted the Duat inaccurately, or any inconsistencies with the actual scene. It's been AGES since I last red The Red Pyramid. It's infuriating. I have Book 2 at home, but I can't seem to find Book 1 anywhere. Hopefully the library whose copy I lost will get a new one.
Anyway, you see that button? The one that says "Review this Story?" I want to you to press it. I COMMAND you to press it. YOU MUST REVIEW FOR THE SAKE OF MY SANITY! ! ! ! ! !
Also, I just realized - that king who's called Narmer? NARMer? What kind of a name is that? He must have been really narm-y. If you don't know what I'm talking about, just Google "tv tropes narm". It'll probably be the first result.
Please, review.
