24.11.1877

It was a dark night. A very dark night. In fact, it was the type of night that comes with a full moon, dead-looking trees and the distant sounds of an owl. It was the type of night that made you lock the door and avoid windows, in fear of seeing a witch fly past on a broom. It made you shiver – not because it was cold, per say, but because it just seemed like the right thing to do. A night carrying something powerful, something ancient – the promise of magic and adventure, of something bigger than you. Or, perhaps, of death. I've always had a hard time telling the two apart.

It took a lot of courage to knock on Louise Jahenny's door. To enter her house was simply unspeakable of. People in her village were convinced beyond the shadow of a doubt that Louise was possessed.

"By the Devil, nonetheless!" laughed Lucien Fallot. "Can you imagine!"

Lucien knocked on the door and turned to face his men with the confidence of the first to be killed. Upon hearing the tale of Louise Jahenny, Fourteenth's leader – Joseph DeSazilly – had ordered an immediate investigation. Code 124 – a suspected godling. Lucien didn't buy it. Maybe the woman was just insane, talking to herself and the such. It happens. The House of Life was starting to get paranoid, searching for magic in every mundane situation. So, when choosing his team for the mission, Lucien had just picked whoever was closest.

There was Eugene Deutz, a 342 years old fire elementalist, who looked and acted like an immature teenager. To counter that, Charles Eury was a 50 years old man, who, because of discovering magic well into his life, could pass for Eugene's grandfather.

"So," began Lucien with the tone of someone who had never been in command before, but had overheard about the importance of pep-talk. "Who are we, gentleman?"

"Detectives seeking information?" asked Charles.

"And what do we want?" asked Lucien louder.

"Uh, information, sir?"

"I didn't hear you, Eury!"

"Information, sir!"

Eugene rolled his eyes.

"Not with that attitude, young man!" chided him Charles.

Eugene raised an eyebrow. "I can be your grandfather's long dead uncle."

"Even so-"

Charles froze and pointed at the house. Lucien turned around just in time to see the door open slowly with a creek. He peered in.

"No one. As if it opened by itself."

"Do you think this is an invitation?" whispered Charles.

Eugene grinned. "Yeah, an invitation to die!"

Lucien stared at them. "Deutz! Eury! Get it together! We are magicians, for Ma'at sake, not some middle school girls summoning ancient demons on the playground!"

Eugene nodded. "Yeah, they would've been braver than us, sir."

Lucien ignored him and walked inside. When he didn't run back out screaming, the other two followed.

This was no mortal woman's home. On the outside, they were looking at a small village house. A fair amount of magic had been woven into the architecture, however. Before them, a grant hall split into two paths, divided by a staircase. Lucien looked up, trying to count the floors above him, and felt lightheaded. The number was probably infinite. A golden sphere of energy tugged on Lucien's coat. He flicked it away and flipped it off.

""Tc, tc, tc." The voice ringed across the room. The feeling of a mother's disapproval seeped deep into Lucien's bones. "That's no way to treat our little helpers, now is it?"

The voice belonged to a woman, standing at the top of the stairs. In a blink, she was right before him. Studying him. Evaluating him. There was a certain energy of divinity radiating out of her. Lucien found himself fighting the urge to bow. Louise was not a mortal. But she was not your average magical Joe, either. This was…

Excitement started bubbling up inside Lucien. For years he'd been trying to rise in the nome's ranks. What better way than catching one of Them!

As if having read his mind, Louise laughed.

"You are getting ahead of yourself, darling. I appreciate it, I really do. It's been a while since someone was happy to see me." She looked in his eyes accusingly, but Lucien got the feeling she wasn't looking at him. "It's not like I get any visitors often."

"Louise Jahenny?" asked Eugene. Louise nodded. "Thank you for welcoming us into your home. We are private detectives from Paris. Could we ask you some questions?"

Louise smiled. Her eyes sparkled with joy. She is humoring us, Lucien thought, like a mother asking her kid's imaginary friend to stay for dinner.

"Please follow me," she said. "Let us talk in a more comfortable setting."

The comfortable setting Louise had in mind was a little office on the second floor of what Lucien was starting to think of as a mansion. There was a wooden table in the middle of it, surrounded by four chairs. Had she been expecting them?

"What an odd number," he said out loud. "Four."

Louise looked at him, puzzled for a moment. Then she smiled again. "The chairs? Oh, they used to be five, but life happens, you know?"

Charles and Eugene sat down, seemingly at ease.

Louise gestured to the only chair left empty. "Lucien, dear, won't you sit? It will do you good."

He gulped, nodded and reluctantly sat down next to her.

"Now, the questions." began Charles.

"Of course, sweetheart. Want something to drink?" Louise snapped her fingers and four glasses appeared on the table. Each seemed to contain a different liquid. "Go ahead." She urged them with a smile. "Pick your poison."

Lucien stared at her. Did she just say that? Charles and Eugene seemed at ease, so maybe he had misheard. Right? Right! She had probably said 'Take a drink.' or something. Don't be crazy, Lucien. We aren't crazy, now are we?

No. We – wait, we?

Don't bother your mind, Lucien. Be present! Pay attention to the situation at hand! Think on your feet! That's what a good leader would do.

"Lucien?" called out Louise. "Everything alright?"

Lucien looked around. No one seemed to have moved even a finger.

"Yes," The sound came out a little strangled. He cleared his throat. "Yes, quite alright."

"Lovely." Louise clapped her hands. "Let's begin! Charles?"

"Mmm?"

"Make your choice."

Her voice was hard to disobey. In a trance, Charles picked up a glass. The green substance inside was like a liquid emerald. Charles took a sip.

At first nothing happened. Charles smiled and put the glass back on the table. His hand was webbed with green. The color began to travel slowly up his veins. No one seemed to notice. Charles leaned back in his chair, still a huge smile on his face, and didn't move again. His eyes remained fixed on Lucien.

Lucien didn't know if he should run or scream or cry. Didn't matter, anyway. His body smiled at Eugene.

Louise gestured towards the three remaining glasses. "Your turn, dear."

No death sentence should be pronounced so sweetly, with so much care. Made you feel like everything she did was for your own good. Like you should trust her. And why wouldn't you, mother always knows best, right?

Eugene reached out for a glass filled with something light blue. Lucien tried to shout, but his lips stayed firmly glued together.

It's okay, Lucien. You don't think all of this is really happening, do you? What would these man think if they knew their leader had gone off the rails?

Eugene took a sip. At first Lucien thought the boy was chocking on whatever the liquid was. Then the choking turned into gurgling. Water started pouring out of Eugene's mouth. He was drowning in his own body. It was all over in a couple of seconds.

Louise looked at Lucien expectedly. His blood went cold. There was a weird tingling sensation at the back of his neck.

She smiled. "Game over."

And then the game was over.

Horus got up, stretching out his new body. Nice find, he had to admit. His eyes focused on the dead men.

"You put on quite the show, mother."


Random Voice I

Louise Jahenny's house did not exist anymore. It used to be a small village house with a beautiful backyard. One day, Louise had found a vase buried deep in the soil. It was a beautiful vase, so Louise had decided to put some flowers in it and bring it inside her space. During the night the vase had shook and trembled. And, finally, it had shattered on the floor. The goddess that had risen from the clay wouldn't have described the vase as beautiful. She would've said 'stiffy'.

And thus, Isis had decided to redecorate the place a little bit. On the outside it still looked the same. But inside was a divine palace worthy of royalty.

Let's enter, shall we? Not to brag, but I'm kinda tight with the owner.

Three gods were seated around a table. On the head of it was the pharaoh, wife and mother by his sides. They were having breakfast and holding a wise conversation about pressing matters. It went something like this:

Horus shook his head. "I don't get it, mother. Why now?"

"The world needs us."

"It doesn't seem li-"

Isis's look stopped him mid-sentence. "As I was saying, trust me. When have I ever let you down?"

"I apologize," Isis's eyes moved to her daughter-in-law. "But I must agree with my husband. If we show ourselves, we shall only be captured again."

Isis smiled kindly. "I see. You have misunderstood me, my dears. We are not going to directly influence. Just… gently guide. The mortals will think it's their ideas slowly shifting the tides within the House of Life."

"But why now?" asked Horus again. "What makes yesterday different from tomorrow?"

Isis waved her hand in the air. "The date, perhaps." When no one laughed at her joke, she sighed and her expression changed. She spoke in that tone, which in movies often indicates a dramatic zoom in, some slow jazz song playing in the background. "The Serpent is awakening."