Random Voice 1

Imagine: The Royal Palace of the Gods. Let's walk in. Pass the columned hall, behind the throne room and into the secret office. Every self-respecting royal palace has a secret office behind its throne room. Otherwise what are throne rooms even for, you know?

Three deities have gathered here. Hathor, wife of the pharaoh, is seating on top of the desk in the middle of the room. Isis, mother of the pharaoh, is occupying a nearby chair. And Set, pain in the of the pharaoh, is leaning on the beforementioned desk.

The pharaoh himself enters the room. He sighs and reaches out to the empty space next to him. As if it was always there, waiting to be used, a chair appears. Horus sits down next to his mother. He scowls at Set.

"Didn't see you at the coronation."

Set rolls his eyes. "I was behaving, if that's what you're wondering. Just decided that getting drunk in Vegas was a better way to spend my evening."

Horus sighs. "The Kanes are asleep and already awaiting their gifts. I expect you to visit Amos."

Set snorts. "Yeah, right. And which Christmas spirit am I supposed to be? The past, the present or the future?"

Horus shakes his head. "If we are lucky he won't even know you were there."

Set raises an eyebrow.

"The world needs him to recover as soon as possible." Horus continues. "You've been in his head, you know better than everyone what would make him want to get better."

"So I'm supposed to manipulate him into getting help?"

"Call it how you want." He turns to face Isis. "Mother."

Isis smiles. "Yes, my darling?"

"I'm going to need you to swallow your pride and talk to Bast. She has every right to refuse our offer. In fact, we owe her. So anything she asks for, I expect her to receive."

"Why can't I contact Bast?" asks Set. "She's more fun than my broken ex-host anyway."

Horus glares at him. Isis calls out for his attention.

"My sweet child, are you sure we need her? Bast is-"

"My decision is final."

Isis sighs. "Okay. I must be going then." She gets up, dusts off her dress and squeezes her son's hand. "Take care." Then she turns to face Hathor. "It was nice seeing you again, sweetheart."

Without waiting for a response, Isis flickers and disappears.

"Goodbye to you, too." Murmurs Set. "I'll head out, too, then. See you soon, pharaoh."

Somehow, he manages to make the word sound like a curse. With a burst of wind and the smell of a storm, the Royal family is left alone.

"What about me?"

Horus' gaze falls on Hathor. "Take the mansion. Return the nome to its former glory. And, my love," he reaches out to take her hand. "I hear the younglings have painted on some of the walls to feel better. Keep the drawings."

She nods. "Perfect. I'll get to leave a present or two of my own, too!"

Horus eyes her suspiciously. "What kind of present?"

"Don't worry about it."

"I don't like that response."

Hathor laughs and the sound bounces off the walls and deep into the Duat. "Just some new clothes, an instrument or two, breakfast maybe." She tugs on his hand to get him to stand up and jumps off the desk. "Can I get a good luck kiss?"

Legend says that Hathor's smile is enchanting. To Horus it is. He leans in as her hands wrap around his neck.

"Come back home quick." He whispers. "I have a surprise."

"Promise."

Her kiss is as enchanting, Horus would say.