Chapter 42 – Blood Magic
Blood Magic
Osiris emerged a short while later clad in soft, light white linen pants that were very loose.
Nebthet said to Severus, "He is too young for what he has experienced and chosen, without our magic, he will lose all of himself…but not in a sense I can explain in your words." The language barrier was quite difficult in conveying thoughts. "What you can see on the outside, does not show the sickness on the inside, but I am sure you look at him and see what I do."
Though he had, of course, seen Osiris without a shirt, it was quite different to see in the bright sunlight. He was thinner, scarred, and even older.
To know he, himself, was the cause of that was painful if he dwelled on it, but to know that he could have done something to prevent some of that and had not known was a different sort of raw. He had never liked not knowing something.
The one called Amsu said something to Osiris which he could not hear, but it seemed to relax the boy some. These people seemed very good at that.
Severus felt presences, like there were others there, but he did not see anyone. It felt very alive. The sort of alive that was generally accompanied by little hairs standing on end, but that was not the case.
"Use those superior skills and clear your mind, Severus. Your mind being at balance is very important for you to be able to fully appreciate this. Even being around it will help you too if you allow it," Nebthet said, beckoning him to a spot from where they could watch. "And stay silent, no matter what you see. You do not like surrendering control, but I can feel your protectiveness, and you must let it go. I think you will find it very beautiful."
He raised a brow in response and nodded, finally taking his eyes away from Osiris. These people acted toward the boy in a way that he knew but had not particularly experienced himself. They cared, as he did. And as he did, they had no real reason to, but cared all the same. Such…beneficence…was foreign to his experiences.
As things progressed, he felt his eyelids become a little heavy though not in a sleepy way. Things felt very slow for a lack of a better word to describe the sensation. There was something about this magic he mentally did not wish to like, perhaps because it was unfamiliar, but a strong presence within him, dare he acknowledge, liked it immensely. Or maybe while there was still a Mark on his arm, it was doing absolutely nothing for the first time in over a decade.
Amsu put his hands on Osiris' shoulders, squeezing them skin on skin, and then let his forehead touch Osiris' while he whispered, "Welcome his Protection with humility for the gift it is for you and let go. Nothing can harm you here."
Somehow Osiris also felt that there was an apology for not having checked on him more, but he did not hear the words. He simply felt it. After all, what generally happened at school to worry about?
"Yes, Amsu." There was a strange mixture of foreboding and resolute peace floating around inside of Osiris. It was suddenly as if every piece of him knew he was on sacred and significant ground in both a physical and ephemeral sort of way. He felt close in spirit and distant in body.
Osiris moved toward the circle of dark sand where the minister stood.
Amsu moved to light 5 incense burners around the circle. It was the same blend that had been at their apothecary.
"Do you know the words, Ausar?" The minister asked.
"No, sir." He did not even know what words they were talking about. He knew nothing of this. He merely felt it was an inevitability. Something he felt an unavoidable call to do.
"Amsu Shai, you have spilled blood with Ausar?" he asked his eldest surviving son.
"On the Sacred Sands, Ata, many times."
"You will speak the words for him that he does not know," the elder instructed.
"As you wish, Ata."
The sand was dark inside the circle where it seemed whatever protection ritual would be administered.
Osiris looked into the eyes of the elder who wished to see him protected, not knowing him at all and feeling quite unworthy of the attention. His mother had once made him swear to be obedient to any Egyptian Elders who called to him, and that if it happened, he would know what it meant
How she had known and why it was so important, he had no idea. However, he felt saturated in its importance at this very moment.
The man's hands touched his head and his cheeks first, not saying anything; at least, not saying anything aloud. Osiris took in a breath. The warmth that had started to return to his cold body seemed to spread from the inside out, catching up to how hot his blood had seemed to burn.
It was a sensation he couldn't remember ever feeling before, but it was peaceful, restful. He could barely feel the hands moving over him, to his shoulders, to his chest, and then back to his head.
He found himself sinking down to his knees in the dark sand. The Earth pushed up against him whilst the minister's hand, now on his head, seemed to hold him perfectly in place cosmically. The dark sands of the circle rustled up in the soft wind, whispering against his torso. A few grains attached to the sweat of his skin.
Amsu began speaking what were the words in their ancient, dead language (*not English*).
"Homage to thee, at the Head of the Great House, silver within night and darkness. I have come to thee. I am pure, my two hands are behind thee, thy portion is with thy ancestors. Give you to me my mouth that I may speak with it, Revered Father."
"May He come forth in Peace, not may He be turned back," the minister replied, hand still on Osiris' head. "May He speak with You. May He be a glorified soul with You."
"Verily I have strength, revered Master and Father. I belong to them, the Gods, my ancestors..." Amsu began, speaking the words for Osiris. But it rather was that Osiris found he knew the words as Amsu began to speak them and so it was that they spoke them together. "I hold Their wisdom. I see Their hidden things. I have made an end of my failings. I have removed my defects. I am purified."
"I have come at the wish of my Heart from the Pool of double Fire, I have quenched it. No wrong hath it done against its Blood. Not hath he let go with his mouth Evil things whilst upon the Earth.
"Thou art my Ka with my body which formeth and strengtheneth my limbs. Mayest Thou come forth to the place which advance I there. My Heart is right coming forth from Balance.
"O openers of the Way and openers of the Roads to souls perfected in the Great House of Heka, hear me."
The minister replied, "If be known this upon Earth, and be done it into writing, He shall come forth by Day in forms of existence all which He pleaseth, and He shall go into his Place and not shall He be repulsed. Not shall violence be done to Him. Not hath been found His defect there. May He be victorious.
"The Scales have been emptied of His Trial. Mighty is He exceedingly and great terror in his Name. He endureth forever and everlasting in Un-Nefer. He shall perform His Will, like those Gods who are in the Underworld, in the bond of regularity, millions of times."
"Open therefore ye to Him the Way, Open therefore ye the Roads to the soul of Ausar. May he go in as He pleaseth and may He come forth as He desireth."
The world around them was unimportant. In fact, it was as if Osiris did not see it at all. His amber hazel eyes were raised up to the Minister's face which seemed shrouded and almost silver in the bright sunlight.
As with the words, he did not know how he knew, but he raised his hands, palm side up as if in the giving or receiving an offering. In their world, it was both.
Although the Minister cut open the palms of his own hands with a dagger, Osiris didn't see that. Instead, he felt the droplets hitting him on the head and forehead. He felt how every bit of it moved, every miniscule splatter, every drip, every run, splitting fuzzy hairs on his cheeks and lingering in the coarser ones along his jaw.
The man's fingers moved over his face, from his forehead down his nose, over his lips, passed his chin.
And then it happened almost the instant that sweet metallic taste soaked passed his lips. It moved past the barriers of Osiris, and his eyes pushed up as they squeezed tightly. It was like a greedy breath after suffocating.
The need rose up inside him. He felt its life lick at him as the blood rolled down his face, dripped to his shoulders and chest, suspended, and snaked to the sand. His own heart accelerated as he felt the Minister's heart thumping along steadily, felt the blood that made him want things he did not understand. Anxiety felt like hands choking his throat and as suddenly as that started it halted to a different, even more novel sensation.
His heart slowed, steadied from its discordance, falling into a strange song in harmony with the feeling and sound of that which was not his own blood but that of the one offering him Protection. Then they melted slowly into one… a strong cadence, purposeful yet powerful. Like waves.
He could feel nothing else, though those fingers traced other symbols on him.
He felt as if his life was moving through him as if he was bodiless, but more than that, formless.
He felt the presence of the Earth but not its push.
He felt the presence of blood but not its pull, not that needful desire that scared him.
He knew there were more words being spoken but he did not hear them.
Powerful magic had always intrigued the professor. It was not until the boy was on his knees on the ground that Severus was somewhat concerned, even though his body strangely did not feel it. Severus watched unblinkingly, not realizing fully that it was that lingering protectiveness they spoke of that caused it.
He was even more so when it became clear that this was some sort of blood ritual, blood magic. If the scene was not somehow very peaceful, he might have done something, expecting Osiris to do what he had that night after the first meeting. Instead of becoming more blue, though, the veiny tinge that had covered the boy slowly disappeared as runs of blood went over him and his hands.
Severus felt his calm return.
There was not even a flinch as the Minister cut Osiris' palms too. The man held his hands flat on top of the boy's for some long while. Blood plopped into the sand and it was then that he understood why the circle was so very dark. The sand was soaked with the blood of magical ritual. And for who knew how long it had been so.
Color returned to Osiris like a certain glow of health reflected off skin coated with sweat, sand, and blood.
The Minister continued drawing symbols on his head in his own blood, finally finishing, "May you follow your unified spirit at its season of Fire and Night."
The Egyptian returned his hands to Osiris' and when he took them away, his hands bled no more. Osiris lolled forward almost imperceptibly before the elder put his hands on his shoulders and lowered him to the sand, and turned him onto his back. Then he crossed the boy's arms over his chest.
There were not any cuts on Osiris' hands anymore either.
As Osiris lay on the sand completely unconscious, Amsu said, "I will stay with him, Ata." He sat down, cross-legged, in the sand by Osiris' head.
The older man nodded, but it was as if more was said between them that was unsaid.
Nebthet was right. He felt considerably better himself, and he wanted to understand that. And not just for Osiris.
AN – Most of the ritual is piecemeal straight out of The Egyptian Book of the Dead – or The Book of Going Forth by Day (yes, it's a real thing) – tweaked a little. If anyone really wants to read it as it would sound in their language. I can transcribe the whole thing, but it shall require reviews! You know you want to drop me a note :D I didn't even get one on the last chapter! Shall I assume you hate it all?
