The Scribe and the Serpent
The summer sun beat down on the stone streets of the Egyptian city, rising to the point when everyone would begin flocking indoors to avoid the heat. It should have stunk horrendously from the dung of camels and horses. But, that was what the street cleaners were for. Eiran wasn't sure what was worse, this work or the grueling task of building the stone structures packed tight in this city. Not that he had a choice in the matter. He was a slave and his current work was cleaning the streets.
But it might not be that way for long.
As he hurried along the streets, he felt like the eyes of everyone were on him, waiting for the slip that would get him in a world of trouble. Eiran kept his head down, one eye ahead so he didn't bump into anyone and one eye on the bag he carried. What was inside there could change his life, either in letting him become a free man or getting him jailed, or worse. He didn't want anyone to realize he had it. However, he did need at least one person to see it before he could make use of it.
He didn't relax when he got back to the slave housing, or even into the shop that lay on the outskirts of the market a couple streets over. As a scribe's office, it was full of vases stocked with scrolls of papyrus. The walls had samples of writing that were available here: government documents, letters, permits. This particular scribe offered quite a range of languages too, including some Eiran had never seen outside this shop. Of course, he could only read his native Hebrew and that was only because his meddlesome grandfather kept records of the tribes.
Eiran had expected to wait behind other customers. However, only the scribe was inside, carefully at work at the low table. Behind him, a cabinet stored bottles of ink and pens. The scribe seemed perfectly at home here. "Hello, may I help you?" he asked, putting his pen in a holder and setting the scroll with wet ink aside.
"Yes, I need a passport filled out," he said, taking out the dangerous paper out. Once it was properly completed, it'd be official. It could be more dangerous then, at least until he got out of Egypt. Hopefully he had the right amount of money for this.
He took the paper and looked it over. Then he looked across the table at where Eiran sat; it wasn't a harsh look, but a studious one that seemed like it could pierce right through any lie and spot the truth. "Where did you get this?"
Maybe this was a mistake? But then, among the Hebrew slaves, people said that this scribe was most friendly with them. He even charged them less when other scribes, nearly all of them of Egyptian blood, would treat them with disrespect and charge more. Eiran had a story prepared about how he got it. Yet even before he could start on it, he knew it would be flimsy to this man.
"I, um, picked it up off the floor in the work center," he admitted, his face warm with admitting to it. "B-but it's blank, right? So long as it gets filled out right, does it matter where it came from? I recognized some of their pictograms so I'm pretty sure it's a passport."
"Which of them do you recognize?" the scribe asked, setting the paper on the table between them.
Looking back at it, Eiran briefly wondered if there was a mistake. Was this the same paper? It had to be; it had been in his bag since he'd picked it up, and then it'd been out in the open in this short while. He pointed out some he recognized. "That's 'work', and this set..." was it right? "It's 'going to a place'? And I think this one is 'study'. I only recognize a few of their pictograms that I see often."
"This is a permit to begin an apprenticeship," the scribe said. He pointed out a line and read it aloud. "'This permit recognizes a merit of good work to allow the recipient,' and that is blank for a name, 'to begin study towards,' and then it's blank again for whatever work is being studied."
"Oh, sorry," he said. Now what? He wanted to get out of this stinking city, away from the burdens of being a slave and away from his stubborn family. They kept believing that God would get them out of this land, but they'd been here for many generations. When was God going to do anything? Eiran had begun to suspect that He didn't really care.
"It's fine," the scribe said. "Would you like to start an apprenticeship as a scribe?"
He'd do that? "I hadn't thought of doing that."
"I hadn't thought of taking on an apprentice either, but an extra set of hands would be helpful," he said. "Unless you bring another master willing to take you in to me, that's the only way I can fill out this permit legally. It appears as though this was meant to be a blank reward to a slave someone felt deserving of earning a free man's life. And this wasn't made recently judging by the ink. I don't believe anyone will suspect it. Do you want the position?"
He could earn a free man's life… well, it wouldn't take him out of this city immediately. But doing this could appear less suspicious than suddenly having a passport to leave Egypt. "All right, I'll take it."
The scribe smiled at that and took the pen to start working on the form. "Good, I hope this works out well. My name is Azirah; what's yours?"
"Eiran," he said, then answered other questions to help Azirah fill out the permit.
As he left the shop to give his wife the good news, Eiran spotted a sand-colored horned viper slithering alongside the building. It was one of those things that should be left alone, so he moved quicker by it. Yet he had an eerie feeling that the snake could give him the same kind of piercing gaze as Azirah.
Aziraphale really hadn't considered taking on an apprentice. He was here in Egypt to help support the Hebrew people through this enslavement. Not to free them, and he had some occasional thoughts about why these people in particular were favored. All humans were God's children, weren't they? But then, this was a country of polytheism and as an angel, he was obligated to help out those who worshiped the true God.
Eiran was having a crisis of faith. That was clear even though the young man hadn't mentioned it and they'd only just met. If he'd gotten the passport he wanted (and it had been a passport until it became an apprenticeship permit), he might have denied his faith to get the freedom he wanted. Maybe he would abandon faith completely. While Aziraphale could speak to him as an angel, it would mean breaking his cover as a human.
Many others were counting on him as a scribe, to smooth out communications between the Hebrews and Egyptians. Besides, staying as a scribe meant he had access to the library where many written works were being copied and stored. It was an interesting idea the humans had, and he could sneak in works to push monotheism and the true God into the awareness of the lost Egyptians. Thus, staying a scribe was priority in the general sense.
But in the specific sense, to help Eiran before he too got lost to the lies of demons… this could work out. Aziraphale was sure he could find ways to restore Eiran's faith even through mundane work. If he could be a good master and friend to him, he could find out specifically why he was losing faith. That would lead to the answers to bring him back. Although he had to wonder why Eiran didn't have an angel watching over him already.
Then a voice near the floor spoke up in the language of the Egyptians. "Sssay, you wouldn't mind doing a little favor for an old acquaintance, would you?"
How did he not notice? Aziraphale tensed and looked down at a sand-colored snake that had his head lifted off the floor a few inches; most of his banding marks closely matched the stone floor, but the little curling horns on his head were darker. The snake's red eyes were clearly the eyes of a demon. His presence was muffled, but he still should have noticed. "I would mind. I'm not to be helping your sort, Crowley."
He flicked his tongue out. "I know, I know, but I haven't got many options. I can pay your scribe's fee. It'll just be an ordinary business transaction, for the most part."
On one hand, he shouldn't be helping a demon. On the other hand, he was offering a service and it wasn't right to turn a paying customer away. "Just an ordinary one?" he asked skeptically.
"Well maybe not that ordinary," Crowley admitted. "Look, I'm in a bind and there's nothing else I can do about it. I've got no hands, the world's a mess of languages..."
"That one is on you since you were involved in the Tower of Babel incident," Aziraphale said.
"How was I supposed to know that would be the result of suggesting they build a really tall tower?" he said, indignant about it. "And that the thing would end up destroyed before it was even finished. That was a real tragedy; the place was incredible, and the humans designed and built it all on their own. Besides, it seems to have helped you out since you support yourself by knowing all those languages."
Ignoring the last bit for now, he replied, "It wasn't just building the tower, it was suggesting they do it to prove they were as great or greater than God."
"Hey, that was just what they thought. I didn't have to encourage that at all. But back to my problem, no hands, most other demons won't speak to me, and what other scribe is going to accept business from a snake?"
"You could just use the human form you have," Aziraphale suggested. "I've seen you as one before. Or even a demonic one and steal knowledge of what language you need."
"But that's the problem! I'm stuck like this right now and..." then he paused, flicking his tongue out to sense things.
Aziraphale had felt it too. If he was discovered with a demon hanging around like this, he'd get in trouble. "Go hide behind one of the pots and keep still," he whispered. "If they spot you, I'm not doing anything to help you."
"All right, all right," Crowley said, trying to act like he wasn't worried. He slithered off as instructed, behind one of the scroll pots near the wall.
Moments later, a pair that appeared to be possibly men walked into the store. One might think them possibly women too if they were dressed different. But their eyes had a shine that human eyes didn't. While most humans wouldn't see it, their auras were clearly angelic in nature. They even addressed him in the words of angels. "Hail, fellow, blessings to meet with thee."
Aziraphale greeted them in kind, bowing his head. It was mere formality. As he could see them for who they were and how humans would see them, he was fairly certain of their purpose here. "What do you guardians seek from me?"
"We're here to help with the calling given to Moses," one of them said. "But we need understanding of the language of the Egyptians to do so. Would you pass it on to us?"
The moment the guardian angel spoke the request, Aziraphale knew it was orders from God. "Certainly," he said, getting up from the table so he could transfer the knowledge. It was natural for angels to have the gift of tongues, but that was more useful for infrequent encounters with humans. For the job they were getting into, they needed a command of language that didn't look off-kilter when they used it. He touched the neck of one, enabling that understanding in him.
As he worked on the other, the first angel closed his eyes and thought over the new knowledge. Before long, he got puzzled. "Wait, what are these… hybrid forms of Hebrew? The language of God's people shouldn't be tainted."
"If you're working in human form, you'll need those hybrids too," he said, gesturing in the direction of the marketplace. "The Egyptians won't bother to learn a slave's language, so the Hebrews had to find a way to communicate for daily business. It will help you understand what they're doing, and hear potential threats." Although really, they were guardians so they should be capable of knowing that innately.
"The only business that matters is God's," the second angel said.
"Yes, but they also need to eat every day," Aziraphale said. "Their masters don't provide meals for the most part. And getting food and other daily needs requires dealing with merchants, who are nearly all Egyptians over here. Most markets won't have any merchants that can understand Hebrew. Also, do you mean to pass as eunuchs?"
"No," the second angel said, puzzled on why this was brought up.
"We're not supposed to stand out," the first angel added. "Yet we and a few others were required to have a physical presence." He seemed uncomfortable with that.
Then there would be more like this. At least the angelic commanders were being discreet about getting them the appropriate language skills. Aziraphale pointed to the first angel. "Then you should appear definitely like a man or definitely a woman, not averaged out like this. That will stand out, as will your pale skin and eyes with heaven's glow."
"I suppose the eyes are a bit much towards hinting at our true selves," the first angel said, trying to look more ordinary. "But what about the skin? It would look strange."
Taking the angel's hand, he showed how his skin was brown with sun. "You'd look strange or deathly sick to the humans like this even if you fix your body shape and eyes. I'm a scribe, so they expect me to be paler than others for being indoors most of the time."
"You're not pale," the second angel said.
Aziraphale nodded. "It's the sun that does it, causing the skin to darken to protect itself. If you mean to blend in with the slaves, you need even darker skin to look like you're outdoors all the time. And in doing that, you keep yourself from sunburn, which is a pain to deal with."
After getting a few more tips to blend in with, the other two angels gave him a formal thank you and left to get to their assignments. Couldn't they learn some basic things before coming down for work like this? Then again, the guardian angels often worked in intangible forms, tweaking things to protect their charges. They could subtly turn a person's attention to a sign of danger or even turn chance just a bit so that a bad coincidence caused no lasting harm. Having orders to do their work in tangible forms was somewhat like making a person who'd never seen a camel ride a particularly stubborn one across the desert.
And as far as Aziraphale knew, he was the only angel who lived entirely on Earth rather than going back to Heaven whenever a job was complete.
Egyptian words near the floor reminded him of his other visitor. "Awfully naïve folks your side is sending out on what seems like important business."
"They're sharp, they just haven't been human before," he said, going back to his work table.
"Not sharp enough to spot me," Crowley said, coming back to the table too. "Bah, I want to keep out of this Moses business anyhow."
"He's marked as important, so I thought he'd be a big target for your kind," Aziraphale said. Since he didn't want to crane his neck down the whole time, he picked up Crowley and put him on the table.
"And because of that, others will get mad if I do anything more," the snake said, taking a moment to settle into a comfortable poise of keeping his head lifted. "I didn't mean to in the first place. I was slowly wearing down a guy and he lost his temper one afternoon. He beat up some slave, which made somebody else get mad and kill my target. Since he died like that, it didn't seem like a big deal. But then I got praise for it from Ra because the other guy was Moses and that incident drove him out of Egypt."
"How is that a problem for you?" If he could claim a soul for his side, then he was doing his job (as much as Aziraphale didn't like it because his job was the complete opposite).
He flicked his tongue out; there was frustration in his words. "Because not even a day passed when I suddenly got my ear chewed off for the same thing! And by Ra too, he was unreasonably pissed off. Apparently your side was expecting him to get driven out, so they had guards and arrangements already waiting. They thought I was backstabbing them by working for Heaven still. Hmph. that's why I'm stuck like this right now and why I need somebody to write up a challenge to that punishment."
Checking out his demonic presence, Aziraphale did notice that he was currently bound with a curse. "It looks like the kind of thing you could wait out."
Crowley snorted. "What, and spend a couple centuries like this? There are some good points, like dozing off in warm sands since digestion takes a while. But it means my diet is all rodents and humans want to keep away from me! Come on, please? You just have to write a thing; I won't tell anybody it was you who helped."
"I really shouldn't be doing work for one of you, much less talking to you," he said.
"We've talked plenty of times before," Crowley said.
He rested his chin on his hand. "Right, but there's a large presence of the heavenly host in this land right now. I'm sure those two aren't going to be the only guardians sent for language skills. Usually we end up talking when there's nobody else like us around. You'd be in trouble too because there's an awful lot of your kin posing as gods on Earth."
"Tell me about it," he said grumpily. "And an awful lot of them, even the big names, are about as clueless as those two were about humans. I could do a far better job than them."
Before he could stop himself, he asked, "Why don't you?"
Crowley's tail twitched. "Because it'd be too much work for what it's worth. Even if I got the humans to do most of it, then I'd have to deal with other demons turned to gods who'd want to fight for believers. They'd be suspicious of my sudden ascent too, cause if I'd stuck with your side, I would've still been one of those guardians."
Aziraphale raised an eyebrow. "Really? I'd think you'd have been clever enough to rank up."
"Whatever, doesn't matter. I mean, there's one guy who blazed up with the god business, but that's because he got in on it early and has a huge presence in many lands under many names. They've even got word going around that it was Satan who handled the Eden business. Hmph! I don't want to bother; I just want my human form back so I can stop eating mice."
He had been hearing that story with the Hebrew slaves. "It was definitely just you in Eden," Aziraphale said. Was that why Crowley kept stalking him? Sometimes he wondered why, no matter where he went on Heaven's business, this snake wasn't far behind.
Forgetting himself as a snake, Crowley nodded. "Right, you know what's what. The odds are stacked against me, but I've got proper money to pay you for this little favor."
"I know it was you, so I've got no reason to pity you," he replied.
He grumbled for a bit, then said, "Okay, look, if you do this for me, I won't mess with that human you're taking on as an apprentice. I swear, I won't trouble him."
"You won't trouble Eiran?" Aziraphale asked, surprised enough that he dropped his hands to the table. It was like giving up a salt or gold mine for a demon or angel to swear not to try for a human soul. Actually, more so since souls were invaluable, incomparable to material things.
Crowley nodded again. "I won't. I mean, you have a rough task ahead of you trying to sway him, I could smell that of him. It wouldn't take much for me to corrupt him away, almost too easy. But I will not try to claim his soul, that Eiran, as long as you write this letter for me."
On one hand, he really shouldn't be working with a demon. And protecting the soul of a single unmarked human wasn't in his duties. His current job was watching over Egypt, in particular the Hebrews who were enslaved here. He should leave the guidance and protection of an individual to the guardians. But on the other hand, Heaven was going to lose Eiran even though he didn't seem to be influenced directly by a demon. He didn't have a guardian angel either, so it was just his own doubts and thoughts corrupting him. It seemed horrible to leave him be.
"Alright, I'll do you a favor this once," Aziraphale said, taking out a fresh scroll.
"Yes! You have no idea how much I appreciate that!"
He pointed the roll of papyrus to the snake. "But if you do mess with Eiran, I will not hold back with you."
"Right, I understand," Crowley said. He even slithered aside so the papyrus could be unrolled.
"Then I'm going to have to use the language of Hell, right?" he asked. That was going to give him a headache, especially trying to keep angelic touches out of it.
"Yes, and Egyptian because that's the primary language I'm using right now, and Sumerian because that's the primary language for the guy I'm supposed to make the request to."
Aziraphale nodded, used to official documents requiring multiple languages due to all the work he did with humans. "Fine, then how should this request be worded?"
While his physical form was restricted, Crowley still had full control over his intangible forms. He wouldn't have minded using his human appearance like that when dealing with other demons. It was simple and practical, with enough extra touches to make it clear that he wasn't human. However, he knew better than that for dealing with the group that currently styled themselves as the Anunnaki. A human form with them was just asking to be humiliated. He traveled to the temple of the god-demon he had carefully chosen for this protest.
The letter was a tangible thing, so he had to appear as a snake once he arrived. "Hey there, it's Immut, right?" He then followed up with the actual name of this demon, since this business did require some formality.
"Hmm?" Gold decorations clattered, standing out against his dark red skin. He'd even made his eyes golden. In this hidden interior room with torches lighting up the grand stone throne, it made him glow much like the setting sun. "Who are you?"
After giving his true name, he added, "But just Crowley is fine. I've come here before you to protest another demon's binding curse. You know Ra, right? He was being fussy about something I had no hand in." He'd really had nothing to do with Moses leaving Egypt, nothing intentional. With the leaders in Hell more interested in working on Earth itself, it was dangerous for a demon like Crowley to mess with humans marked by God. All he'd been doing was getting the soul of that one supervisor of slaves, and he'd definitely accomplished that.
"Ra, huh?" Immut said, interested. "Would you know if he's taken full control of that sun cult yet?"
"He hasn't secured his hold over them," Crowley said.
Although they were in different mythos, the way demons arranged pantheons meant that Ra, a sun god, was ranked over Immut, a god of one city-state. Immut didn't even have a desirable city-state, especially as it was falling into decline in recent decades. However, there was an Egyptian cult of the sun that had sprung up without any direction from demons. It was surprising that humans could manage that all on their own. It was also worrisome that it was drifting back to monotheism, as the cult believed that the sun was the sole god that was.
The sun cult was a risk of losing control of Egypt to the angels. But on the other hand, if a demon could sneak into the position of that sun god, they could shoot up in authority with Hell. Beelzebub, for one, had made a solid claim as one of the most powerful demons by getting himself worshiped as a leading god under many different names. Ra was a safe bet of who would control the sun cult, but Immut had ambitions to snatch the position away.
"He must be making motions to do so," Immut said, thinking it over.
Acting disgruntled, Crowley said, "Of course he is. He's been influencing the dreams of the cult's leader trying to get himself identified as their sun god. However, I overheard that he's been having some trouble due to the leader's preconceptions. There's a number of scholars within the cult who are codifying their beliefs, even an artist who's trying to make a mural of their god."
"The scholars could override the ruler if enough of them believe," he said, trying to quietly think aloud. Crowley held his tongue at that. "Could you give me the names of the scholars?"
"I wouldn't mind, if you would grant my request of unbinding," Crowley said, then made the letter Aziraphale had scribed appear. "I've got the required documents and all, exactly as they should be."
Immut raised a hand to gesture the letter to him so he could read it. His eyes skimmed over the scroll until he found the Sumerian section. Then, he glanced back at the language of Hell there. "Hmm… there's some peculiar quality to this writing."
Cursing silently, he hoped the angel's presence wasn't coming through too strongly with the writing. But it was true that outside of hypnotizing a human, there wasn't another person who would act as his scribe. Even if he went with hypnosis, the human wouldn't be capable of writing the language of Hell properly. "Why, what's the issue?"
Immut narrowed his eyes. "I don't believe I've ever seen anyone write the language of Hell this neatly. Usually there's shakiness or slips from the evil one feels just using it. This is incredibly precise and clean."
While he had complained about getting headaches from it, it was rather impressive that Aziraphale could manage using the language of Hell at all. "Well there are some folks up in Greece who've been arguing for a complete break from passion," Crowley said, mentally trying to find another excuse to go along that one.
"True," Immut said, taking that for now and rolling up the scroll. "Everything's in order and you have wisely decided to come to me with this issue."
"Of course, Immut, wouldn't dream of asking anyone else," Crowley said. There were others who wanted authority over the sun cult and would do something to go against Ra. But Immut was particularly desperate due to the imminent loss of his city and thus his godhood.
The red-skinned demon made some motions in the air with his pointed fingers, undoing Ra's binding. "Then, you are unbound. You may take whatever physical form you have access to again."
"Ah, thank you very much," Crowley said, bowing his head. But he declined to revert from a snake immediately. "If there's one thing I can't stand about being a snake, it's the diet."
Smirking, Immut agreed, "That would be a pain. Say, Crowley, how would you like to join us Anunnaki as one of us?"
This was unexpected. "What do you mean by that?" he asked.
"I just feel like a simple unbinding is not quite enough for the valuable information you've given me," Immut said. "It's a great position. We have the humans of this land believing that they are innately and unquestionably our servants, so you are guaranteed every soul that is born within your city. And if the humans decide to go invading each other, it's no problem to us as we'll simply become the god of the winners. The other Anunnaki will back you up on that."
"Sounds good, but I'm not sure," Crowley said. The pantheons were very good business for Hell, true, but he had a sneaking suspicion that it was all going to blow up in their faces one day. And he had a greater suspicion that Immut would try to thrust responsibility of this dying city onto him if he agreed to join.
"Have you ever been a god?" Immut asked. "If not, you're missing out. You get praise and souls for a pittance of work. The humans here all believe that toil and labor is their natural lot; we've got it ingrained into them."
Since he sounded proud of that, Crowley decided to curry some favor with him just in case. "Oh yeah? How'd you get that done?"
Immut smiled. "The humans want to be led around like that, believe it or not. In some cases, all you have to do is suggest unconsciously that you are superior to them and they'll come up with all the reasons behind that. They don't like being wrong, so they'll keep believing like that. If you're clever, you can make them thank you for controlling them.
"Or we fool them with divination. That's easy. Heck, Beelzebub has people believing they can divine the truth with a swarm of flies. You have to fulfill such prophecies every now and then, but you can solve some sufficiently vague ones and make them forget the more exact ones. The main trouble we have in this land is that our leader Enlil sometimes gets cranky at the noise humans make and calls for their numbers to be cut down. You don't want to get picked out as the scapegoat for such a culling."
If he was going to try being a god, he'd do it in his own way and try not to lose it immediately. "I'd imagine not. But I'll hold off. I'm so lazy I don't even want to think of taking on responsibility like that."
Immut sighed. "Fine, it's your loss."
After saying goodbye to him, Crowley flew back to Egypt. He could form himself physically as a human again. But, it might be better to lie low a while. Wait until Ra forgot about it. It might even be better to just avoid Egypt altogether when he was one of the lead god-demons around here. Still Crowley was curious. Was there something actually special to that man Eiran?
He'd made the offer on a hunch. He shouldn't have left a soul, especially such an easy one to tempt, to an angel to claim. However, the loss of one soul was fine exchanged for getting the binding off him. Besides, Crowley only said that he'd not mess with Eiran himself. There was nothing saying that another demon couldn't. That could be trouble if Aziraphale blamed him, though.
The houses for the Egyptian slaves were easy enough to find holes in, especially when he entered as a snake. Now, Eiran… there were so many humans around these days. Crowley wondered briefly if it was only the noise that was annoying Enlil about humans. It used to be easy to keep track of a human one was corrupting; knowing their name had once been enough to locate them. But in a crowded city like this, there could be multiple humans sharing a name. It got noisy and chaotic on a spiritual level too.
But if Crowley had one advantage over the other demons, it was that he had grown used to the noise and chaos humans presented. They frequently went back to Hell claiming that they wanted to; Crowley thought they were weirdos for that, while they thought he was a weirdo for liking Earth. Navigating through the crowd of humans, he searched not for Eiran but for the apprenticeship permit Aziraphale had filled out for him. As long as he hadn't turned it in to the slave masters…
He hadn't. It was there on a tiny table in a tiny slave apartment. And, it wasn't just the man. There was a woman here too, his wife from the smell of things. Her faith was wavering too, not as much as his but both of them were vulnerable. Neither of them were marked as anyone special, not like that Moses who'd been chosen by God for some reason.
But there were religious scrolls in a pot in the corner, an ink set for writing that was well used. Eiran was already a scribe, it seemed, so it was strange that he'd become an apprentice scribe to someone else. However, the Hebrew slaves weren't supposed to be literate. He might have inherited the position as a scribe within their tribe, though. That explained the scrolls; it would be his duty to copy and preserve important records and teachings.
"What are you going to do as a scribe's apprentice?" the woman asked.
Sitting against the wall on their shared bed, Eiran closed his eyes. "I don't know. Probably learn Egyptian so I can be an official scribe in their eyes."
She was sitting on the edge of the bed, toying with her short hair. Her hands were worn; perhaps she was a cook somewhere? "But what about Grandfather's work? Aren't you helping him?"
Eiran's fist tightened. Yeah, this guy would be easy to claim for Hell, not so much for Heaven. "But this could lead to actual work! A freeman's work, enough for both of us." There were thoughts in there already of working for himself too. In a tangent to that, Crowley learned that they were recently married. That relationship too was shaky.
And in his wife, he smelled a fear of that as well as a lonely desire to make it work out. Whatever would make it work out. "But he's counting on you, although..."
"He's just leaving his work for me to do," Eiran complained, although he had awareness that he was exaggerating it.
"It does seem like it some days," his wife said, uneasy with agreeing to it.
Eiran looked at her back, then leaned forward and took her arm. "Yiskah, I just… I don't want my children to be slaves from the moment they're born. Our children; that would be cruel to them."
She wasn't pregnant yet, but there was every indication that she would be sooner or later (probably sooner, very sooner). It wasn't that they weren't getting along. While there was real attraction, it wasn't strong enough to keep as a foundation of marriage at this time. Crowley figured that the right suggestions would break them like glass, or twist them into an unhealthy couple that dragged each other into Hell's grasp. But, he'd given his word not to mess with Eiran and messing with his wife was tantamount to messing with him. And the angel really was the only one who recognized his significance these days, so Crowley would leave them be.
However, he hadn't slithered out of the apartment before he sensed another demon creeping around. This one was showing off, being tangible and yet being a shadow that slipped around mostly unnoticed. Crowley would have been simply annoyed with it, but then he noticed that the shadow was headed right for Eiran's apartment. "Really?" he grumbled to himself.
He considered simply identifying this demon to let Aziraphale know that he was definitely not the one messing with Eiran and Yiskah. Instead, Crowley opted to bite the other demon. The shadow was in fact tangible and let out a pained wail. His fangs held a potent venom; this demon would suffer for quite some time.
Crowley then slithered out of the building as quickly as he could, before the stronger believers among the Hebrew slaves could attempt to banish them as demons.
During the early afternoon, Aziraphale had met with several of the guardian angels who needed to know the local languages for their current duties. They stopped coming as the afternoon wore on, when his normal customers came in for things read, recorded, notarized, or written. But there were more of the angels once the night was old enough that most of the humans were asleep. He gave them the skills they required as well as similar advice on how to fit in better.
Then came an angelic visitor that he was unfortunately familiar with: Hieremias, another principality who was watching over the Hebrews in Egypt. He was not using a human form. If any human did stumble upon them like this, they would see a glowing form of light. Aziraphale quickly snapped his fingers to draw curtains over the windows and door, to try obscuring that.
"I won't be here long," Hieremias said once they exchanged greetings.
"I figured not," Aziraphale said, not bothering to shift out of his human form. "Are there going to be more of the guardians that need assistance?"
He nodded. "We need to start gathering the Hebrews in preparation of their release. It will mean using the Egyptian work orders to shift more remote groups closer to the rest. That is also part of your assignment for the next few years." He made a long scroll appear, then passed it over.
"Very well," he said, accepting it. "I am worried for those guardians, though. For those who watch humans closely all the time, they were ill-prepared for blending in among them."
"Their focus is always on individuals," Hieremias said. "They rarely see the big picture. Although, I have a difficult time blending in as well. That's partly why I sent them to you."
Aziraphale might have felt some consolation in that, except that he knew Hieremias thought humans forms were a bother and only ever visited him if they had vital business to take care of. Not even their dominion boss would visit Aziraphale; that one would always give the orders to Hieremias, leaving him to get word to Aziraphale if necessary. They were always cold to him ever since he'd been replaced as one of the guards of Eden.
But, they were both to serve Heaven unquestioningly. "I'll do what I can to continue advising them. I suppose they'll have other guardians watching over them too?"
"That and we have a number of archangels in the field," Hieremias said. "These are important times, so make sure to complete your tasks diligently."
"Of course," he said, trying not to seem resentful at the obvious reminder.
"Then I need to get back to my own tasks," he said, starting to fade away to move elsewhere.
"Excuse me a moment," he said, since there was something he wanted to discuss with one of his peers.
"What for?" Hieremias asked, not hiding his resentment of being delayed.
"What about the monotheistic cult of the sun that's been building up?" Aziraphale asked. "I've had to do some of my work for its members and in speaking to them, I could tell that they aren't yet influenced by a demon. They could be coached into seeing the true way of things. But if a demon does claim authority over them, that demon will become very powerful very quickly. That could be dangerous for those we watch over."
"God's children will be leaving Egypt in a few years, so it won't matter much to us who watch over them," he said.
"Aren't all humans God's children?" he asked.
Hieremias gave him a hard look. "In a generous view, perhaps. But those who are born under the false gods, especially in these polytheistic regions, are almost immediately lost to us. We are in charge of protecting the true believers."
Aziraphale looked back at him, not liking that. True, the demons got hold of the majority of human souls early thanks to their invention of beliefs in multiple gods. "It feels dreadfully unfair to the humans, though. We have a chance here to teach this sun cult the truth and save them at least."
"As far as I know, there's no plans to deal with them," Hieremias said. "And our priority is keeping the Hebrews safe, don't forget that."
"I won't," Aziraphale said.
Even after Hieremias left, Aziraphale still felt stifled by the meeting. He took the scroll and headed out to leave the city for a brief time. The eastern skies over the vast desert were brightening with the approaching sun. While he'd need to get back to his shop quickly to handle early morning business and the guardian angels, the silence out here should be enough to think over things. There was a rock on a rise out here that had a good view over the rolling sand dunes; he liked to come out here when he could.
There was a human there when he arrived though, an Egyptian man who was praying silently out here alone. Aziraphale shifted to an intangible form so as not to bother him, then checked over the scroll with the slaves he had to shuffle around. As slaves were considered a commodity, moving them around was normal enough. But he'd have to exchange the Hebrews with non-Hebrews to keep the workforces even. It'd also need to be done carefully so as not to raise suspicion, and he personally would rather keep any families together on both sides…
They were all God's children, though, even if many of them were living under mistaken beliefs.
Sighing, he rolled the scroll back up and checked on the praying man with him. He… he was wearing a scarab brooch that was becoming a sign of the monotheistic sun cult. Unlike Eiran, this man had deep beliefs in his one god. He was an artist by trade; a copy of the Book of the Dead was with him, as something he'd illustrated. He didn't believe like the other Egyptians, but he did the work because the sun cult couldn't pay him as well. Still, he did the cult's work for next to nothing, trying to bring others into their group.
"I've had to do commissions based on that book," Aziraphale said quietly. The man wouldn't be able to hear him like this. "The others don't understand, but it's more trouble to break your cover by not doing that work. I feel… you're a good man. If you weren't born into polytheism, we could protect you." He sighed. "Your group is on the right track. I just wish there was some simple and clear instructions I could give you that could end up saving you. I hope something's going to be done soon to address this problem."
He thought for a bit, listening to the man's prayers and trying to figure out something he could safely pass along to guide them to the truth. The man was trying to gain wisdom about his god, Amon Ra, by holding this nighttime prayer vigil. It really was a pity that the other angels would already consider him lost. What could be said that wouldn't be mistaken?
As the sun rose, Aziraphale felt a demonic presence approaching. It wasn't Crowley, that much was clear from the fresh taint of Hell on it. They would have a close eye on this cult. Crouching down, Aziraphale took up a smooth stone that was close by. He didn't have a divine weapon at hand like Hieremias did. But, he'd picked up on how to be inventive at times. He closed his hand over the rock, imbuing it with his desire to find a way to save those who were considered lost unfairly.
The demon appeared to Aziraphale's sight, taking on a small vicious form. He wasn't one who could make a bid as a god-demon, but he definitely worked for one who could. At first, the demon had a dark smile while watching the praying man. Then he faltered as he felt the divine presence. Aziraphale didn't give the demon any more time and threw the rock at his head. Squalling and clutching his bleeding forehead, the demon scrambled away before any more attacks could come.
That was one demon driven away, but they'd surely be working with others of the sun cult to lead them astray. And without other help, Aziraphale didn't have much of a chance of keep the cult safe from demons. His priority was to be the Hebrew slaves.
Sighing, Aziraphale looked back at the city. The sun's rays were starting to touch the tallest structures. And so many souls there were considered owned by Hell by no fault of their own. "All these people shouldn't be left to ignorance and suffering with no hope of seeing the light," he said.
After a moment more of watching the city, he glanced back down at the artist here. Something about the dawn had broken his trance of prayer. Perhaps he'd felt the presence of the demon too. The man thought quietly, then hurried off back home. Aziraphale followed him into the city just in case, but soon left for his own shop to begin a new day's work.
In most cases, humans could not see angels and demons in their intangible forms. There were exceptions, of course. Certain times heightened awareness of the mystical, like a solstice or a sunrise. And, certain activities like prayer and trance could make humans more aware of things they usually ignored. And some personalities, hidden talents, and careers helped as well.
As such, an artist highly devoted to the sun who had spent an entire night out in the solitude of the desert who happened to open his eyes at sunrise could in fact see an intangible being, like Aziraphale who had been briefly watching over him.
He had forgotten his sketching charcoal, though! The artist hurried back home, trying to keep the image in mind. It was very clear to him that he had been visited by a divine being. The light that came from him matched the rising sun well. Not only that, but his prayers had been disrupted by a malicious presence that sent a cold chill up his spine. He'd felt the presence of such demons before, even seen them at times. But this time, his god had definitely been watching over him.
When he got home, he quickly located the charcoal. But for a blank piece of papyrus… he checked the pots, his tables, even a pile on the floor… nothing! Not wanting to give up this inspiration before it faded, he started drawing on a blank wall instead.
In a couple of hours, a young man came in in a hurry. "Master, we've been waiting on..." he paused on seeing the various drawings on the wall. "Master?"
"I have seen him," he said, his frantic energy wearing down as he finally got a drawing that was right. He pointed at it to make sure his student knew. "Amon Ra. He protected me; he doesn't want us to suffer, or cause others to suffer."
By the time evening came, he was already at work with a commission to put a portrait of their god in one of their secret sanctuaries.
The beliefs of the sun cult were aligning. They were focusing on conceptualizing their deity. As such, this was the time to claim authority over their souls. But, something didn't feel right to Ra. The beliefs weren't focusing on him well. Was it one of the other demons trying to claim the position before him? Or, perhaps, an angel? That should be absurd; the angels never did things like that. But there were some peculiarities that Ra couldn't explain otherwise.
For one thing, one of his subordinates who'd been chipping away at various members of the sun cult showed up in their section of Hell one day with a head wound infected by divine power. The low class nameless demon hadn't lasted long after that, but he did manage to say that he caught a glimpse of his attacker and it seemed to be a principality. That was worrisome. When it came to the ranks of angels that were commonly on Earth, a principality would be one of the most innately talented fighters a demon could encounter. There were plenty of ranks that would be more powerful in a fight, but they were either few in number or not often seen on Earth in person.
Ra was sure he could handle one. After all, he'd made himself the most influential god-demon in Egypt. The wound was strange in another way: it seemed to just be a rock blessed with divine power. Principalities were often stationed in contested areas and almost always had their own weapons on them at all times. He knew there were a number of them in Egypt trying to wrest back control of the land. But if it was one who just used a handy stone nearby instead of his own weapon… Ra thought he knew who this specific principality was.
And that angel seemed to be intent on messing with Ra's subordinates in other ways. There was a group of them now that had been afflicted or even perished by divine attacks with weapons of opportunity. Ra looked over them with distaste, not showing that he was interested in this case. "Why are you having so much trouble with one human soul, an unmarked one at that?"
"He doesn't have a guardian angel on him, but he has some really powerful guardian that's an angel watching over him instead," one of them complained, trying to obscure the cut on his face with his thin hand. "The guy's just some apprentice scribe and Hebrew record keeper."
"Yeah, he seemed like such an easy mark, so I was going to show up that guy for failing to do so," a second said.
The third grumbled. As a demon of shadows, he had a white scar on him from the angel's attack. "I got bit by a snake the first time, I tell you! I wouldn't have failed to get him then."
"But you didn't fare any better the second time you tried." The third demon scowled at the second and attacked him.
Thumping his staff on the ground to get them orderly again, Ra looked over them. "You shouldn't fail on an easy mark," he said, making all three of them flinch. "I shall send you to the taskmaster to have you clean the wastes of the damned." They pleaded against it, but he sent them off regardless. He wouldn't set them to such a disgusting menial tasks for long. But, they had failed and they had to pay for it. Now, for someone to take care of this matter… "Seshyl."
A cobra demon appeared by his side. As long as he'd been working for Ra, Seshyl had always preferred appearing as a snake. Ra didn't know if he'd always been that way or if it was just to fit into the Egyptian beliefs they used. "Yesss, what isss it?"
Ra picked him up to speak more comfortably with him. "I thought we had a clear shot at controlling the sun cult, but it appears that we have an angel interfering with us as well. We need to deal with that one quickly."
"Of courssse," Seshyl hissed. "Who are we after?"
"A principality named Hieremias; he's been a thorn in my side in that area for a long time."
Seshyl lowered his head. "Hmm? Are you sssure? That's not a rank of angel I'd fight on my own."
Ra nodded. "You won't fight him; I will. He also seems to have some interest in a Hebrew scribe named Eiran; several below you have tried and failed to corrupt Eiran even though they all claim he should have been an easy target. What I need you to do is lure the wretched angel out to me."
For several months, Eiran devoted himself to learning to use the Egyptian pictograms. Azirah often had him working on copies of the Book of the Dead, since that was always in demand among the Egyptians. Oddly enough, the master scribe had a copy of the Book of the Dead entirely in Hebrew. That allowed him to compare the two languages and learn Egyptian quicker. But why did Azirah have such a thing? Wasn't it a blasphemy?
It wasn't clear if Azirah was Hebrew or Egyptian. He would answer that he'd done the Hebrew language Book of the Dead as a curiosity, although he rarely showed it to others. He was very familiar with Hebrew beliefs, but was also familiar with those of the Egyptians. Perhaps he was of mixed-blood, inheriting both traditions?
But the curious matter of his master was only a brief distraction. Eiran knew it was a distraction, but he tried to get back into it again. Copy the lines, this about illnesses… was Yiskah going to get better? This was a terrible time for her to fall ill, when they were expecting a child. And something felt off about the whole thing. She'd seemed fine one evening, then suddenly was barely able to leave the bed and complaining about bad dreams. He'd had a bad feeling in the middle of that night too. What was going on?
Was she going to die with their child? Maybe it would be easier to get out himself… but Yiskah… he wanted to love her, but the whole thing had been arranged without much input from them. He should love her and support her, but could he really?
A touch on his shoulder startled him. "Eiran, what's the matter?" Azirah asked kindly.
"Oh, it's..." what was it to him? "It's nothing for you to worry about. Sorry, I'll finish this."
However, his master wasn't going to let it go at that. He sat down by him. "You are troubled about something, very upset and that worries me. So what is it?"
While there certainly was something strange to Azirah, he was a good man. There was some kind of comforting presence to him too, making him want to speak. Eiran sighed. "Well, my wife Yiskah is expecting a child now, but she's fallen dreadfully ill this week. An older woman who's a neighbor of ours is watching over her, but we need to get a doctor to see her. Only, we can't afford the fees of a doctor I know of, and I've been having some trouble with the rest of my family lately, so I can't ask them. I'm not sure what to do; something seems ominous about this, we both feel that way. I need the work to afford the doctor fees, but I don't know if it'll be enough in time, and I'm not even sure how I feel about the whole situation, sorry, I know i'm not making much sense," he rubbed at his eyes, not wanting to cry here in the workshop.
"It's fine," Azirah said, patting his back again. "Let's close up for a little while."
"Hmm, what for?" Eiran said, looking in surprise as Azirah got to his feet.
"I'll pay for the doctor's fees, so let's go get him," he said.
Hearing that, he was quick to get to his feet and follow him over to fetch their things. "Will you? Thank you, I'll try to get you repaid quickly."
"It's not a loan," Azirah said.
And he kept insisting on that. Azirah even excused him from work for a few days to help take care of Yiskah. While the doctor wasn't sure what was ailing Yiskah, Azirah seemed strangely certain as he assured them that she should be fine. What did he know that they didn't?
Yiskah was under a demon's curse. Aziraphale hadn't noticed for a few days due to getting busy with bringing the remote Hebrews to the rest. However, the demon had made it quite clear they were behind it. The signs only an angel could see pointed to it being a cobra demon and from where it had cast the curse. A cobra… he knew Crowley was still hanging around as a snake part of the time despite getting unbound. But he was sticking to the form of a horned viper.
Before anything else, though, he needed to get the curse undone. The human doctor could only do so much. Humans often blamed demons for misfortunes that happened naturally. Unfortunately, that opened the way for demons to make unnatural misfortunes like this curse happened. If they were more skeptical, humans wouldn't fall prey to such tricks so easily. But if they were more skeptical, an angel's job would be more difficult too.
He could probably undo the curse himself, but as a pregnant woman was involved, it was better to fetch one of the guardian angels who took care of such matters all the time. Leaving the doctor with Eiran and Yiskah, Aziraphale left their apartment and slipped into another that was currently unoccupied. That allowed him to shift to an intangible state without causing much suspicion. This was the housing district for the slaves, so there should be plenty of guardians around.
There was one on the roof of the apartment building, not seeming occupied apart from keeping watch over the area. She chose to appear in a feminine way, so she would be ideal for watching over a woman. "Excuse me," he said, appearing on the roof near her.
If he'd been Hieremias, she probably would have addressed him as sir. As it was, she seemed surprised to see him there. "Hmm, yes?"
"Why aren't you doing anything about the woman under a curse here?" he asked.
She tilted her head, then gave a nod. "Ah, her. The one who was watching over her and her husband was called off because we were losing them."
Frowning at that, Aziraphale said, "So you're just going to leave them to suffer needlessly? They're not completely without faith yet and you leaving them like this will ruin them with certainty. They're part of the people we've been called upon to protect. I've been working with her husband and I know he isn't a lost cause. I would believe she is the same way. Come on, let's uncurse her and restore their faith by helping."
"Mmm..." she thought for a second, then nodded. "I have been concerned, but it wasn't in my orders. But if one of you is requesting it, it should be fine. Let's go."
It turned out that he was needed for undoing the curse. The demon who'd cursed Yiskah expected one of his rank to be the one to respond. Thus, he had to keep certain lines of the curse's structure still while the guardian worked to undo the rest. In doing so, he got some information about the one who'd done this: Seshyl, a follower of Ra. It was odd; what interest would Ra's group have in a Hebrew scribe? That demon, as far as he knew, was keeping an eye on Moses but more focused on claiming control of the monotheistic sun cult. Maybe Seshyl was doing this on his own, but…
"I think they saw us for a moment," the guardian said once the curse was broken. She looked uneasily at Eiran who was looking right to where they were. Yiskah was the same way, although they couldn't see them now.
"That's fine," Aziraphale said, crossing his arms over his chest. "We needed to restore their faith and letting them know that we are helping them should do the trick." And they shouldn't recognize him right off since he looked closer to his angelic self as he was currently. "Would you please keep an eye over her at least? I'm going to look into the demon that cast this."
She hesitated, then surprised him by asking, "Yes, but are you sure of that? It seems suspicious to me how this curse was constructed. If it required your power, I think that demon Seshyl is trying to call out one of you in a trap."
"I'm aware of that," he said. "Also that he may not be working alone. But this isn't something we can just let slide."
"Very well, but please be careful," the guardian said.
This was an encounter to take carefully. Maybe she would alert the other principalities that this was going on since the curse was baiting one of them? Aziraphale prayed quietly that this would turn out for the best.
"Well that's going to be three souls that I can claim to have taken," Crowley said to himself, watching as three drunken men left the bar to take a brawl outside. He hadn't really done much, just nudged their pride a bit to escalate the argument this far. If one of them died from it, then his quota for souls this year was done and he could enjoy himself without trouble from down below. "Now, what to do…?"
He was looking for a place he could slip into a tangible human form to try out the drinks here when he noticed a group of eight quietly discussing the sun cult that so many demons had an eye on. Crowley wasn't all that interested in being one of the god-demons. Given how competitive the god business was, he didn't want to be bothered. But it was something to keep tabs on, to hear who would actually claim it. If Ra did, then it'd be better for Crowley to slip out of Egypt for a long time.
Then one of the men brought out a scroll, revealing a drawing of someone very familiar to Crowley. "One of our artists claims he had an encounter with the Great Sun at dawn. He and his students have been passing around this portrait of what he saw then."
That was definitely Aziraphale. Did he know of this? Most likely not. Crowley smirked to himself, thinking that it would annoy the angel to know that they were visualizing their god as him. And it would really incite Ra to know that if things happened right, an angel might become acknowledged as the sun god in Egypt by those who thought the sun god was the only god. Ra might even lose influence in Egypt, thus losing his overall claim as the sun god in the polytheistic beliefs as well.
Right, this would mess with Ra without him being able to figure out that Crowley had anything to do with it. Crowley had already suffered just getting in his way indirectly. May as well use indirect means to get back at him. And he could report in that he had hassled an angel too by getting Aziraphale involved in something he didn't want to be doing. Something like that could let Crowley coast by with his supervisors for quite some time.
But, could doing this turn Aziraphale into one of the fallen too? He didn't get in that much trouble with that sword business, and this wasn't his intent, so probably not. There was some small risk of it… Crowley shouldn't be concerned for it. He should be eager for such a chance, but it bothered him for some reason.
Well, the point of this was to mess with Ra, which was worth the risk of angering Aziraphale. "Yes, that's your god all right," Crowley said, letting his voice seep into their unconscious. He even followed them to a meeting in a secret place of worship that already had Aziraphale's portrait up on the wall as an image of their god.
This was going to be fun.
Ra was feeling restless. He'd been waiting for Seshyl's trap to be sprung for over a day now. What was keeping the angel? He probably had other duties too, but this kind of thing should draw attention right away. But here Ra was waiting, watching the Nile run along as it always had. As this portion of the eastern bank was higher than the river, it wasn't inhabited like the floodplain to the west. There was a temple to himself nearby, so this was an ideal spot for him to wage battle against a troublesome angel.
At least there was one advantage to the waiting: the leader of the sun cult he'd been trying to influence was currently within the temple, praying for guidance. This was the ideal time to be influencing him. As he got the sun cult firmly in his grasp, he would concrete the growing belief that the Creator god Amon was the same as the sun god Ra. Once he was Amon Ra, he would be the undisputed leader of all demons working with the Egyptians. The other god-demons would be degraded back to normal demons who had to pay proper tribute to him. Then spread those beliefs so that more human souls were tainted with his mark… vanquish other god-demons so that they lost their deification as well…
Eventually, he would have claim to the majority of human souls in the world. Not even Satan would be able to compare to him then. And if Ra could gain enough belief, he might even gain power over the actual Creator. This had been centuries in the making and he wasn't about to let the angels interfere now.
"Lord Ra," one of the lesser snake demons said. "There's an angel coming right for us, should be the right guy."
This plan was centuries in the making; there would be plenty of other chances to gain control over the leader of the sun cult. And this was going to help too. "Good, be ready for your part."
Before long, a principality using the intangible form of spirits flew along the dirt road, following after Seshyl. The angel apparently had only a walking stick with him, one with a pronged end that would be good for catching a snake and setting it to the side of one's path. Ra looked over his rival, checking for other weapons… no wait… this wasn't Hieremias. Who was it? Ra had been sure that he knew all the named angels stationed in Egypt currently, but he didn't recognize this one at all.
Ra didn't get time to tell Seshyl to hold off before the cobra lured the principality into their trap. A powerful barrier that Ra had constructed himself appeared, blazing a darkened orange that sometimes looked like a deep sunset and sometimes looked like hellfire. Any angel or demon within the barrier was now caught inside unless Ra dismissed it. Animals immediately fled to get out of the battle area within the barrier, able to do so easily. If any humans came by, sensitive ones and children would be immediately unnerved by crossing the barrier. That usually kept any of them from interfering.
He could still get Hieremias if he beat this one down and sent him fleeing. Or, his plans didn't specifically need that one angel. It should work fine with another of his rank. And then, he could utterly humiliate Hieremias with all the power due to the lead deity of all of Egypt.
Seshyl paused now that the barrier was up. A glint in the cobra's eye showed that he wanted to mock the angel for falling for the trap. However, the angel took his stick in both hands and caught Seshyl between its prongs. It glowed briefly with divine power, destroying Seshyl's presence on Earth in an instant. That power was nothing to scoff at, although that weapon was probably geared specifically for dealing with snake demons.
"Who are you to disturb my work, angel?" Ra asked sternly, making his crooked staff hum to show it had power.
"Aziraphale," the angel said, unconcerned about being trapped in the barrier. "Ra, what are you doing with the young scribe and his wife?"
That name sounded faintly like one of the Eden guards, but it made no sense that one of them would be out here. "They don't matter, other than it brought you here and now you will be sacrificed in my name!" Ra waved his staff and summoned out a dozen of his follows in the form of giant scorpions. He was going to call on them as snakes, but the pronged stick put that idea down.
Next, he called on a cluster of orbs that would shoot sulfuric balls of fire at the angel. That should keep him plenty occupied. Then, he focused his attention on the binds that would fuse Amon and Ra together in the consciousness of mankind. Humans were tricky creatures. You could implant all kinds of ideas into them, but it seemed up to chance if their minds would accept those ideas and act on them. All too often, they made choices that even a clever demon like himself didn't expect.
It worked more often to just plant pieces of larger ideas in them. They could fill in holes and come to believe it was their own idea. If a demon tried the large idea by itself, the human was more likely to reject it fully. Even with the piecemeal ideas, a demon had to watch them carefully so the idea didn't warp into something useless. For something like this that would affect the minds of a broad group of people, Ra had implanted and connected pieces of ideas among them over many generations. This was basically making the idea formal, into something the world would accept as truth. The sacrifice would ensure that the idea got firmly embedded in subconscious of the Egyptians.
Before that, power was needed to make the idea formal. Ra drew upon the prayers of the sun cult for that. One could listen to prayers and use the belief in them to fulfill them, but that was often tedious to deal with so many small-minded issues. Instead, he preferred using the belief in prayers to fulfill his own goals. Now they needed to link the two gods as one…
Something didn't feel right about the prayers to Ra. What was it? They had plenty of power to do what he wanted, so he fused the identities of the gods anyhow. An image came to mind… wait. The prayers of the cult… they were visualizing this angel?! Ra gritted his teeth and tried to stop the binding.
The prayer energy got out of his control, wrapping around both of them. The principality had already taken out a number of his followers on his own power (made worse by the fact that some of the replacements didn't get the hint and came out as snakes). Now that the prayers of the sun cult were focused on the angel, he got changed into what they saw: an Egyptian deity dressed like their pharaoh, his pronged stick changing into a staff much like Ra's. He'd gained a new identity, that of the Creator god Amon. Holy light burst out from him, annihilating the lesser demons that were remaining in the battlegrounds.
The binding caught them both; the barrier shifted out of Ra's control. This was not what Ra planned for, but he immediately knew what was happening. As of now, the Egyptians believed deeply that Amon and Ra were one god, Amon Ra. This created a contradiction when two entities represented the deity. Only one of them would be allowed to remain on Earth once the barrier was gone. The other would be stripped of power and cast out of this world.
"Oh dear," Amon said, knowing that too.
"Damn, you were the one messing with my cult?!" Ra screamed, gripping his staff tightly. "I must defeat you today, but I will make it as painful as possible for you!" He caused the light of the sun to intensify within the barrier, making it unbearably blinding, searing, and withering inside.
Of course, that made it difficult for him to see as well. Not caring, Ra added in a thick rain of hellish embers. The embers tried to burn his skin even though they were fewest right where he was. He could see a blurred image of Amon hovering right where he'd been. No problem, then call up snakes of sunfire to chasing him through the raining embers and burn him even more.
Then a different kind of light cut right through Ra's heart. It was a divine light, attached to a small sharp rock thrown with a strength no human could hold. It was a simple little trick, Ra knew that. But it was so effective that his presence on Earth quickly unraveled. The powers of a god were stripped away and given to the angel.
No… no, that was supposed to be his power! His glory! Ra snarled and tried the curse the angel. However, the angel's former name slipped his mind. He should be able to curse him under the name Amon Ra, but for some reason it wasn't sticking. Before he could try again, his corporeal self melted away and his soul was cast back into Hell.
"Damn, I will find his name," the former Ra grumbled, sitting up and digging his nails into his palms in frustration. "I will make him pay and regain my status..."
Then he got cut short by a multitude of hisses. He realized with some dread that due to how he'd been cast out, all of his followers were cast out with him. Seshyl in particular was waiting there; the cobra opened up his hood. "You made an angel into a god?" Seshyl hissed bitterly, poised to strike swiftly. "Now that the agents of Heaven know it can be done, they'll surely take back what we have claimed. You have made fools of all of us!"
"You're the one who trapped the wrong angel in the first place!" he yelled, although his thoughts were quickly turning into a panic. He tried to cast the blinding light over them, something that was painful to most demons. But, that was the power of a god and he no longer held that.
Those who had sworn loyalty to him before quickly pinned him down and tore him apart.
Aziraphale looked over the striped staff in his hand. It was the weapon of a god. "Oh dear..." he said again, unsure of what would come of this. He hadn't meant to become a god, but here he was. He was now Amon Ra.
Before he could get his thoughts together, another angel flew in where the barrier had once penned him and the former Ra in. "What have you done now?" Hieremias asked, glaring at him as if he were another traitor to Heaven.
"This is not what I meant to happen," Amon Ra said, turning to him. "I thought I was only taking care of a demon who had cursed a couple I've been watching over."
"You can't accidentally become a pagan god," Hieremias said. "What did you do to make humanity believe that you're an idol?"
"I have no idea," he insisted.
Before Hieremias could really get into hounding him, a streak of light shot down from the sky and crashed into the ground, kicking up fine dust. It quickly formed into a dominion sprawled on the ground, scrambling to get herself back together. "Ah hah hah, sorry, hold up you two," she said, grabbing a scroll she'd dropped.
"Karael, did you come to take care of the mess this one has caused?" Hieremias asked, backing down with a superior there.
"Huh?" She glanced at Amon Ra, then said, "Oh yes, I have business with him, but first you." She beat her wings and got back into the air to address them. Holding the scroll closed in her arm, she turned to Hieremias. "You're the one who's been making a mess of things recently, Hieremias. The guardians have been complaining about being stretched thin and taking on too many wards at once, and you're the one who was in charge of their assignments in this area."
"Well the humans are packed tight into close quarters," Hieremias tried as an excuse.
Not taking that, Karael shook her head. "Too many of the Hebrews have been put at risk when the demons are very active around here. We got a report of a pregnant woman in your jurisdiction who ended up under a severe demonic curse that could have ended up with her death as well as the loss of faith in a number of humans connected to her. You had told the guardians to simply consider her and her husband lost when they weren't, and that's just one of the worse problems that have cropped up. I've sent in two squads of guardians to this area to help cover things until it can all get sorted out."
"That woman is going to be fine now, right?" Amon Ra asked.
She opened her scroll briefly for that. "Oh… yes, they said she and her child will recover fine now." She shut the scroll again.
"I can sort things out if Heaven thinks that there needs to be more," Hieremias said, trying to back off.
"You stay here," Karael insisted, a sharp glint to her eyes. "I'm to take you back to Heaven for a more thorough reprimanding. Now you, um," she opened the scroll back up, searching.
"I don't know how this happened to me," Amon Ra said, placing his new staff against his shoulder.
"Sorry, this was bewildering to me too when word was first passed down to me," she said. "Aziraphale. For the time being, you are to hold onto the identity of the deity Amon Ra."
"What?" both he and Hieremias asked in disbelief.
Karael nodded, still keeping her eyes on the orders she'd been given to pass to them. "Yes. While you have that identity, you will be an intermediary between those who believe in Amon Ra here and the true God in Heaven. This… will allow Heaven to reclaim the souls of such believers as long as they display the proper faith, virtue, and avoidance of sin, same as the true believers. We angels will also serve and protect the good humans among the Egyptians."
"Those evil pagans?" Hieremias asked.
"Very few of them are actually evil," Amon Ra said. "I've learned their belief system in living here and it doesn't seem all that bad if it could be shifted to a proper monotheistic view."
"Right, that's what has been decided upon," Karael said, shutting her scroll.
"But," Hieremias started to argue. Another sharp look from Karael got him to keep silent instead.
"Then what am I to do for the sake of God here?" Amon Ra asked.
"Most importantly, you need to stay within Egyptian borders so we can hear from the souls of your believers," Karael said. "Your existence as an angelic deity is enough for that. You should also work to shift their beliefs away from polytheism so we can claim more of their souls. As you stated, their belief system has been deemed worthy if it moves to monotheism. The demonic deities and their followers will challenge you for taking out Ra and opening this possibility to us. We are thus alerting all angels in this land to assist you in rooting them out and replying to such challenges. Not only that, but the other Egyptian gods will be attacked and cast down before long. Then you simply have to see to it that they don't reclaim their positions."
"I see," Amon Ra said. He should feel relieved that the other angels would be more cooperative with him. Maybe even more accepting. But he couldn't deny a bit of uneasiness after they'd ignored him except when necessary for so long.
"More currently," she checked her scroll again, then made another one appear to hand to him. "Since you are the leader of the Egyptian deities now, we need your cooperation with the plans to free the Hebrew people from their enslavement here. You will end up having to back the pharaoh when Moses comes back to lead them away, but that will be excused as necessary to getting our goals accomplished. As such, this scroll will instruct you on what should occur and what you might get called upon to do. Aside from that, don't interfere with the work the rest of us have."
"I understand," he said, accepting the scroll. Playing the enemy then… but, this would allow more humans to find the peace of Heaven after death rather than being condemned to Hell simply because they were born into beliefs born of superstition and demonic lies.
"Good, I'll contact you if something major comes up," Karael said. Then she went over and grabbed Hieremias' arm. "Good luck, Aziraphale. Now, Hieremias." She then took off with him back to Heaven.
"I would like to know how this happened," Amon Ra said to himself before he opened up the scroll to see what he was being asked to do.
Things were going to get better. Eiran had started to believe that the world was unfair and unjust, that there wasn't a point to caring about anything beyond yourself. But now, that seemed like an immature belief to have. Bad things did happen; there was no denying that. Good things happened too, wonderful unexpected things that made him smile even though his life was hard. Maybe he could do something wonderful and unexpected for someone else in the future. He felt like he should for how he felt now, finally seeing the blessings in his life as well.
He could start with a small thing today. "Hello Yiskah," he said affectionately as he came into their apartment.
As she was sitting up on her own with color returned to her face, she was clearly doing better today. She smiled brightly at his greeting, then got bashful at it. "Oh, Eiran, hello! Aren't you supposed to be at the shop today?"
"Master Azirah told me to take a few days off just to take care of you," he said, sitting down by her. "Which I'm glad for, that's what I want to do now. Here, I bought these for you."
"Ah, fresh pomegranates?" she asked, delighted as she took the ripe fruit. "Thank you! I really wanted one. Here, we can share some of the seeds."
Eiran shook his head. "No, I got them for you. You can have them all to yourself, for you and our child."
Yiskah laughed at that, blushing at the same time. "Eiran… are you sure? It's sweet of you, but why?"
Putting an arm around her, he said, "I'm sure, I got them because you really wanted them. I, I'm glad that you're alive, and with me. So I want to make sure you're happy too."
"Oh..." she looked down for a moment, then smiled again and leaned back into his arm. "I am happy, for this, and for you being in a good mood. I don't think you've been like this since before we got married."
"I'm sorry about that," Eiran said, shifting a little closer so she could feel safe and comfortable with him. "I felt pressured to marry you quickly, and live up to my family's expectations at the same time. It was like my life wasn't my own, which did make me unhappy. There's a lot that's still out of our control, but I'm going to try looking at things more positively now. God will take care of us, and we should do things to try making the world a little better. And, it is important for me now to be treating you well."
"God is taking care of us," she said, putting a hand on her stomach. "The doctor helped, but it was angels who healed me. I saw them at my bedside, while the doctor was out talking with the woman next door about my condition."
He smiled at that. "Two angels, a man and a woman, right?"
Yiskah looked at him in surprise. "You saw them too?"
"Yes, for a moment. I actually felt bad about it for a little while, since I was plagued by doubts and fear, but they still took care of us."
"I was the same," she admitted.
"Really?" he asked, taking her hand with his free hand. "I'm sorry if I troubled you."
"It's okay, I don't feel like that now," Yiskah said. "Things did happen so fast, and it wasn't all as I thought it would be. But I'll be a better wife to you too now, and I want to be a good mother."
"It'll be tough, but we can make our life together great no matter what happens," Eiran said. "I promise you that. And I think things will get better for us."
He then told her about various things that had happened while he'd been out today. He'd also apologized to his grandfather and started work on patching up that relationship too. In working as a secular scribe under Azirah, he had come to understand how important keeping records was. Human memory wasn't perfect, but the written word would remain the same, ready to be passed down from generation to generation so that the knowledge was there. And if he could get along with his grandfather again, the rest of their family should accept them back as well.
Yes, things were getting much better.
While he now had the power of a deity, Aziraphale didn't need it most of the time. He still needed to shuffle the Hebrew slaves to be closer together for when Moses came back. That only required his power as a scribe, to fill out the forms and make them appear official. As Heaven was handling the prayers to Amon Ra, his main duty as a deity was to get his believers to believe that God was the only god. But that could be done slowly over generations. Being a scribe also helped with that as he could circulate monotheistic ideas among intellectuals. Getting other humans to believe… maybe the intellectuals could help with that? Humans were cleverer than angels in some ways.
The sun was high in the sky, so he and Eiran could work on larger tasks they'd been given. The apprentice was much happier than he'd been when they'd first met. His faith was continually growing stronger, inspiring him to small good deeds that made others happier. Interestingly, that inspired those affected by him to be more faithful too, even among the Egyptian customers who were still considered pagan. Eiran could become a great leader in his religion. And, perhaps other seemingly normal humans could be inspired to achieve the same positivity.
Even though they shouldn't get interrupted at this time of day, a woman carrying an infant in a sling around her chest came into the shop; she carried a pair of woven baskets with her. "Hello, I brought lunch!" she said cheerfully.
"Hello Yiskah!" Eiran called back cheerfully. He nearly got up from his work table, but then stopped and glanced over to him. Aziraphale smiled at him, excusing him to get up and go greet her. "Thanks, I didn't realize I forgot that until I got here."
"It worked out since I could make enough for the three of us," she said. "Master Azirah, would you join us?"
"I'm grateful for the offer but I wouldn't want to intrude on you," he said.
"It's no trouble," Yiskah said. "Since it's what we can do in gratitude for all the help you've given us."
Eiran nodded. "Right, it hasn't been that long, but it feels like our lives would be very different if you hadn't taken me in as an apprentice."
To be honest, the same could be said for him. "All right, if that's how you feel, I'd be glad to join you," Aziraphale said, setting his pen in its holder so he could stop work for lunch.
"Good!" Yiskah said, happy with that as she set her baskets down. One of them was clearly for the baby to sleep in while they ate. "Oh, would you mind holding onto our child while I prepare his bed, Azirah?"
Surprised at that, he nodded as he came over. "If you don't mind."
"Thanks, he should stay asleep for the most part," she said, carefully undoing the sling so she could hand the baby over.
Despite all that his parents had been through, Eiran's son was normal and healthy. He wasn't even troubled that Aziraphale was holding him. It was some time off, but this child would be free of enslavement by the time he became an adult. Aziraphale silently wished the child well, that he could have a happy life and make his parents proud.
Several years later…
The sun was setting as Aziraphale came back to his shop. Feeling worn down, he left things closed and went upstairs to rest for the night. The shop hadn't been open for a while. He'd been pulling double duty during this conflict between Moses and the Egyptian pharaoh, since he had to attend to his work in protecting the Hebrews and his work in representing Amon Ra. Meanwhile, Eiran was busy preparing to leave Egypt for good with the other Hebrews. He had one of the harder lots since he had to take care of his wife, his young children, and his elderly grandfather in this exodus. But he had grown a lot in the years he'd worked here, becoming a responsible man that many of his fellows trusted. He and his family should be fine.
Right, they would be fine tonight. Aziraphale had made sure of it. Them, and many others; he'd been checking on the homes of the Hebrews to make sure they had marked their residences as instructed. Tonight, the Angel of Death would be traveling through the land, taking the firstborn son of every household that did not have the marking of protection. And that one would be following his orders to the letter, not making a single mistake. Fortunately, he and the other angels on inspection today had found no mistakes from the Hebrews.
There was nothing else for him to do tonight. Tomorrow, he'd surely be preoccupied with the resulting tragedy and mourning in his identity as Amon Ra. Aziraphale usually didn't hear the prayers of such believers, but he could feel them passing through him like the Nile moved through Egypt. That affected his mood; he'd been irritable and forlorn for much of this time as the plagues Moses brought against the pharaoh's stubbornness wore heavily on the people. Locus and frogs, the Nile turning into blood…
Tomorrow was going to be horrible.
"Hey, where've you been?" a man sitting in his apartment said in a friendly way that almost seemed mocking for who he was. He brushed aside his long bangs, revealing serpentine eyes. "Long time no see, huh?"
Aziraphale sighed. "I don't want to deal with you tonight, Crowley."
"What, is being a god more work than you thought it was?" he asked, not bothering to move from his spot. When he let go of his hair, his bangs fell to perfectly obscure his eyes.
"What do you know about that?" he asked, suspicious now.
"Well everybody on my side heard about the fall of Ra," Crowley said. "But I think I'm the only guy who knows you as anything other than Amon Ra. You've got every demon worked up in worry and paranoia, it's hilarious."
"I didn't ask for this," Aziraphale said, thinking for a moment that he should kick Crowley out.
"Well I did," he said, a bit smug.
"What?" he asked, staring down at him.
Crowley smirked at that. "Yeah, apparently an artist in the sun cult caught sight of you as an angel and mistook you for Amon Ra. He started putting out pictures and murals so that the image of you got in the cult's beliefs. I was still mad about Ra binding me, so when I found some guys talking about such an image of you, I went ahead and suggested to them that it was correct and you were their god. Then Ra decided to use the prayers of the sun cult when they had the image of you, and look where that led."
Then he really had gotten caught up in demon plots. And if it hadn't been for the incredibly well timed intervention from Karael, he might have become even more of an outcast than he was. Angered at that, Aziraphale shifted to his deity form and quickly had the staff inches from Crowely's face. "Then you were responsible for this," Amon Ra said harshly.
Putting his hands up, Crowley pressed himself further against the wall. "Hey, hey, don't be rash! It worked out, didn't it?"
"Angels weren't meant to become gods," he said. Although no lamp had been lit up here yet, the room was now well illuminated.
"But now you guys have pretty good claim to the humans in Egypt, don't you?" he said in trying to worm his way out of getting smote. "They should be pretty happy with you despite it being unintentional on your part. And I got to tell my superiors that I was messing with an angel and a rival, which they accepted as good work on my part even though it ruined Ra. But they don't realize that, I think. So, yeah, worked out fine for the two of us, huh?"
Amon Ra glowered at him, but then relented. He was right, to a degree. And Heaven wound up better off then Hell in this deal even if it was demons who instigated it. "It worked out by the will of God," he said, shifting back to his human form. But he was able to call on some of that power to light the lamp he kept on the table up here.
"Seems more like to the will of humans than God to me, but all well," Crowley said, putting his hands down and relaxing.
"But what are you doing here in my house?" Aziraphale asked, putting some things away.
"I dunno, but weird things are going to happen tonight, I can feel it," he said. "I'm still lying low after my run-in with Ra, so I want to keep out of it. Your place just happened to be nearby when I started looking for a hiding hole."
The sun was below the horizon; it would be too late now for the demons to do anything about this. "Haven't you heard? Moses came back to become the leader of the Hebrew people and lead them out of Egypt. The pharaoh wouldn't accept that, of course, so God has been cursing the Egyptian people with a number of plagues."
"Oh, is that why all that weirdness has been happening?" Crowley asked. "It's been like Nature's gone crazy around here lately."
Aziraphale nodded. "Tonight should be the last of it. All of the firstborn sons of every family in Egypt will die tonight, as well as the firstborns among cattle. The Hebrews will be protected, and they should start leaving tomorrow as a result."
He was caught silent for a moment at that. "Seriously? You all are going that far?"
"Yes," Aziraphale said, taking a seat near the open window.
Crowley rubbed his neck, then asked, "Then, what side are you on for this? The pharaoh because you're Amon Ra, or the angels because you're one?"
"Both of them," he said.
The silence hung heavy in the room for a time. Aziraphale wondered again if he should kick Crowley out. Well, he should since Crowley was a demon and he was an angel. But, he knew Crowley got ignored or dismissed by his fellows too on a regular basis. There had been many times when they were the only ones open to talking with each other.
"Hmph. Here, catch." He then threw a dark bottle at him.
Aziraphale caught it, catching a sweet scent inside. "Why are you giving me wine?"
Crowley shrugged. "Why not? I've got plenty more. The other angels are gonna leave you high and dry for this one, aren't they?"
"They are more focused on getting the Hebrews out safely, which is the important matter for us," he said.
"But it sucks for you because you have to be dealing with the Egyptians as your people too," he said. "So I'll be around if you want company. If some other angel does decide to drop by, I'll leave quietly or pretend I'm being driven off by you."
Aziraphale had been dreading enduring this alone, even though that was his duty in being given this role. "All right, let me get some glasses."
