7.10.1875

Royal Palace, Duat

Horus

This is both the only and the last place I want to be.

Imprisoned for a thousand years, I finally managed to escape my most recent prison. A statue of me, of all things! It was intentionally crafted by the Chef Lector to contain my spirit. The idiots in First Nome lost it some time ago. The statue, I mean. Though the other statement also isn't wrong.

I ended up in the hands of a British farmer. The poor man had a soul similar enough to mine. And so I whispered. And I was heard.

I got him to break the statue and free me. By then, Iskandar's little obedient pawns had found me. Turns out Faust carried the ancient blood. Poor Arthur, they killed him on the spot. The magicians almost caught me, too, but I managed to escape to Duat.

I needed to make sure I was deep enough, that no mortal can reach me. So I came back… home?

No. This is the same building, but it is nothing like my home.

I am walking down a dark hallway, the light of energy balls no longer illuminating my path. The royal palace gets becomes more of a Royal Mess every time I return. Will anyone ever see its glory again?

As if by command, a single orb of golden light comes rushing down the hallway. It buzzes excitedly when it sees me. Looks like I'm not the only one seeking refuge here. The ball pulses a couple of times and then takes off.

I run after it, a little too excited to not be alone. Who is here? Oh, gods, please don't let it be Set! Even Sobek would be better company. Though I could do with a little fighting, to help blow off some steam.

Once we reach the throne room, I come to a stop. Thankfully, it is not Set. No, I would recognize this divine voice anywhere. No wonder she had managed to activate the helpers, she always brings joy and life everywhere she goes.

Slowly and quietly, I enter the throne room, careful not to disturb her song.

I expected the place to be in ruins, but the scene still takes me aback. The hieroglyphs on the walls are pretty much gone. The floor is webbed with cracks. The throne is tilted weirdly on one side. Parts of it have broken off on the floor.

And yet, beauty fills the room. And still, she dances. The daughter of the sun is singing the eerie quietness away. Golden orbs swirl round her and she dances through the grief and damage.

I watch her dance, unable to move.

Centuries have passed since I last saw my wife. Even longer since I last held her.

My goddess spins around and her eyes finally stop on me. Her dance comes to a stop, her song cut short. Her eyes scan me, as if unsure I'm even real.

Millions of poets have spoken about love. But what do you say when love herself stands before you?

"Hathor." I whisper.

That's all it takes for the tears to start falling down. She runs up to me, her arms wrapping around my neck. I hold her close, cherishing the moment before it slips away.

We stay this way for what could've been a moment and a century. Either way, it's not long enough. Ma'at, I'd give up the throne to be with my love again!

Hathor is the first to pull away. She cups my cheek with her hand. Her touch is soft and warm, like her kiss. My eyes don't dare look away, afraid my beautiful mirage will disappear.

"My love," she smiles, her breath warm on my lips. "Now this is a pleasant surprise."

Instead of replaying, I kiss her. Her hands find my hair as our lips move in sync. A quiet laugh escapes her sweet lips when I pull away. Her fingers trace my neck, than move down my arm to where my hand rests on her waist, and entangles them with mine.

"Come," she says. "Dance with me."

Hathor pulls me to the swarm of shining orbs next to the broken throne.

The world we used to know is falling apart around us as we dance. Right now, this is the only place I want to be.