“Wait, I know this story…” David murmured, although he had not intended to interrupt.
Hekate’s face was stone. “On this particular morning, Osiris had left the palace to take a walk amongst the marshy flora of the Nile Valley. He loved to be amongst the greenest part of the desert, listening to the gurgling waters and breathing in the sweet morning air. He caught sight of his sister-in-law bathing, joyously untamed and feral in his favorite place, and he fell in love with her. He had glimpsed her before in passing, of course, but never had he witnessed her raw, unrestrained beauty in such a way. These feelings were foreign to the young god; he could comprehend love for his companion Isis, brotherly love for Set, and agape love for mankind. Yet this feeling was different, a yearning for her to be his, the desire to take her into his arms. As he tried to reconcile these feelings, she noticed him watching her, her eyes meeting his in a moment that sealed their fates forever—for she fell for him as well.”
David suddenly felt his body tremble, the world around them responding with a sharp shift of wind. Hekate’s long white dress fluttered around her like the falcon’s wings. He forced himself to focus on her words.
“Years of longing passed as Osiris tried to distract himself with his affairs. But soon he was writing poetry to her, inscribing his proclamations of love on sheets of papyrus and hiding the scrolls in a tamarisk tree near the part of the river where she swam. She discovered them one day and wrote back to him, the two beginning a daily correspondence where they could pour out their devotion to each other secretly in verse. They both hoped it would be enough to sustain them until late one evening, Osiris stumbled upon her in her waters again, and this time, he could not resist approaching her. She took him into her arms without hesitation, teaching him how to make love, an experience unlike anything he had ever felt. Their love was so powerful, they created the impossible—divine life within her womb. She would eventually birth the first gods to ever come from the coupling of divine beings—a set of twins, named Horus and Anubis.”
David sat upright, suddenly wanting very badly to flee. “Why are you telling me this story? What does this mean?” The branches of the acacia tree thrashed as the turbulent air around them raised in intensity.
Hekate stood, her falcon giving a disapproving squawk. “You must hear what I have to say, David. The story is far from over.”
She grabbed both of his hands, and instantly, they stood in the tomb of an ancient pyramid. David took a sharp inhale. The room seemed to glow unnaturally, for its walls were constructed entirely of gold, covered in scores of hieroglyphics. Piles of the precious metal clustered every inch of space, interrupted only by colorful jewels and the painted sarcophagus that was situated at the center.
“Nephthys worried that Set would discover their affair,” Hekate continued, turning his attention back to her. “She feared it would ruin the harmonious life they had built, convinced that Set would attack Osiris and murder her children. So, she approached her sister, confessing everything.”
“I had a vision of the sisters in my dreams,” David told her.
“It never ceases to amaze me how powerful your mind is,” she briefly appraised before she continued, not offering David a moment to grow bashful. “Isis held no ill will towards her sister, nor her husband, for she did not understand romantic love,” she explained. “Instead, she shared her sister’s apprehension of their family’s fate. They decided that Isis would take the boys under her wing and proclaim to the world that the children belonged to her and Osiris. Although it pained him, Osiris agreed to the masquerade, also understanding that he would have to stay far away from Nephthys for the story to be believed. He agreed to it only because he believed it would protect her and their children.
“After the twins were born, Nephthys disguised herself and went into exile. Although she tried to distract herself by becoming involved once again in the affairs of men, she eventually fell into a deep despair. She longed for her children and for Osiris, and eventually her melancholy consumed her. She attempted to end her own life, hoping that in doing so, her soul would float about the astral plane in peace. It was her grown son, Anubis, who stopped her, knowing all along that she was his real mother and had been searching the realms to find her. Finally, being reunited with one of her sons proved vitally restorative for Nephthys, a beginning in lifting her from her dismal state. Still concerned for her wellbeing, Anubis covertly petitioned Osiris to let him guard the entrance to the Underworld, hoping to keep his mother from death’s alluring pull while protecting her from Set, should she ever be forced back into the Underworld. Osiris quickly agreed.
“Meanwhile, with her sister in mourning, Isis was left unguarded. She was strong and formidable in her own right, but being the only creature bearing the world’s precious heka left her vulnerable. The weight of it grew heavy, consuming her like despair consumed her sister, isolating her from humans and gods alike. She remained stowed away in their earthly palace, distancing herself from Osiris and their new sons, who only reminded her of her lost sister. They had no choice, but to leave her in peace.” A rueful look passed across her face. “It was Set who finally reached her,” she continued after a pause. “He had discovered the letters between Nephthys and Osiris admitting their love, and it inflamed his already standing jealousy and contempt for his brother. He believed Osiris tricked her into falling in love with him and that Nephthys’s exile was his fault. He was incensed that she had left him as well, spending every moment he could searching for her.”
David watched the hieroglyphics that were etched along the walls of the tomb swirl themselves to life, images moving as if he was witnessing the transpired events in the present. He gasped as he recognized Lucius, his skin still pale in comparison to the green eyed, bronze goddess seated not far from where he stood. He watched Lucius storm into her throne room, completely shirtless save for thick gold jewelry around his neck and arms. On his crown was a jackal headdress, similar to the one worn by Anubis, except that it did not obscure his angular face nor his burning topaz eyes. His original body was still very tall and narrow, but his arms were defined by muscle, his hands so long and narrow, they appeared to be clawed.
Isis had been draped listlessly over her throne, her eyes curious as she watched him approach her.
“Osiris has been consorting with my wife,” he hissed as soon as he reached her. “I found physical evidence of their adoration.” He tossed their letters at her, the ripped papyrus trickling down to the marble floor like feathers.
“I cannot control what Osiris does,” Isis responded, apathetically.
Lucius made a sound of disgust. “You are both fools. Humans couple and are bound by invisible ties—you are gods and you cannot manage to honor the same commitment? Nephthys was my wife, my companion in this world, and because of my vile brother, she is now missing. His betrayal is unforgivable. You should feel the same as I.”
Isis frowned, her jade eyes catching the candlelight, their brilliance overshadowing the actual jewel that lay at her throat. “I feel nothing.”
Lucius paused from his rant, realizing her dismal state. “You are the Creatrix, the Divine Mother of mankind, loved by all. How could you possibly be morose?”
She met his eyes. “I am no longer needed. The humans sustain themselves. Osiris sees to the worldly affairs with our children. My sister has fled our homeland. What else should I feel?”
“Rage,” Lucius replied with a snarl. “You should feel rage at what he has done to us all.”
“And yet, I do not,” Isis sighed. “Leave me alone now.”
Lucius turned to retreat in exasperation, before he paused. He reached up to remove his bestial diadem, sending his long, atrous locks down around his shoulders. He approached her, climbing the stairs to Isis’s throne with careful steps, as one might approach a feral cat. She apprehended him with widened eyes as he slipped his fingers around her neck, cupping her face as he kissed her. She allowed him to continue for a moment before pulling away in surprise. “What exactly are you doing?” she whispered, though her expression had warmed from his kiss.
“What our mates do with each other. It is only fair that you might partake in such pleasure. Why should you sit here alone in misery as a result of what they have done?”
Isis considered his point for only a moment before she met his eyes, her jaw set in determination, an expression common in her sister. With one easy movement, she released the clasp that held up her dress, letting it fall around her feet. “Then show me,” she agreed.
Lucius scooped her into his arms.
“Hoping to heal his broken heart and create his own children, he seduced Isis,” Hekate’s narrative voice shattered the vision. David observed that her once impassive face now betrayed wistfulness as she retold her story. “They made the physical act of love, but it was not the fruitful coupling Set had secretly yearned for, and it was not what Isis had hoped it would be either. She was no closer to understanding romantic passion than she was before. But what neither Isis nor Set had anticipated, was that in Isis giving of her body, she gave Set a part of her soul, infusing him with heka.”
“Manibus Ignem.”
“His hands of fire,” Hekate nodded. “And perhaps most importantly, it fine-tuned his intelligence, twisting it into the art of deceit. Set used his newly honed guile to finally enact his vengeance on his brother, tricking him into diving into the Nile to save who he thought was a drowning Nephthys, only to have Set hold him under until he died. His vengeance still not satisfied, Set then separated Osiris’s body into forty-two pieces and scattered them all across the land so that no amount of magic could ever resurrect them.
“Nephthys felt Osiris’s death in her bones, jarring her out of her melancholia. She flew back to Egypt, horrified to learn of her beloved’s murder at the hands of her husband. Determined to reverse the deed, she transformed into a raven-colored kite, scouring the ends of the earth to collect each piece of Osiris’s dismembered corpse, bringing them to her sister who she begged for assistance. Equally furious that Set has murdered her companion, Isis complied.”
David’s eyes were pulled towards the sarcophagus, which had now opened to reveal a corpse wrapped entirely in strips of linen bandages. Emotion caught in his throat as he saw Nephthys folded over its edge, stubborn tears escaping down her cheeks though she fought them away. Isis stood at its head, murmuring silently with her hands stretched out above it. Heavy incense choked the air, swirling around them as energy pulsated beneath Isis’s palms. He recognized Anubis, who stood next to his mother protectively, a hand placed on her shoulder. With his head cast downwards under his headdress, the eyes looking upwards appeared wicked, beads of shining glass set in the narrow face of a jackal.
“It is not working,” Nephthys cried out in volatile frustration, slapping her hands on the rim of the sarcophagus.
Isis dropped her hands, matching her sister’s vexation. “I am the goddess of life and you are the goddess of death. Our son, the god of funeral rites, stands beside us. I do not understand what more we need.”
“Blood,” came a soft reply from the shadows.
The three gods looked up to see a man moving towards them with an unusual crop of golden hair, bright against his complexion. Nephthys let out a gasp in instant recognition of her other son.
His stoic expression melted at the sight of her, disarmed immediately she ran up to throw her arms around him. Again, David felt a strong pang of emotion, watching mother finally reunited with son. She held him tightly for a moment until they both were able to collect themselves, pulling herself away so he could speak.
Horus’s face was stern but handsome, with the same herculean build as his twin brother and the same cerulean blue eyes they inherited from their mother. The only difference between them was their hair; his, a golden flax that contrasted against the coal black hair of the jackal crowned Anubis. “Blood,” he repeated, “is the only part of him that is missing, the substance that sustains life on earth. We all share the same blood, but none so powerful as our uncle, Set, for it is identical to that which once flowed through the veins of our father.”
Anubis looked at him. “You are right. They also shared the same soul once, before they split into separate beings.”
Horus nodded. “Set’s blood is the key that will bring Osiris back to life.”
The flesh on David’s skin prickled as he watched Nephthys rise to her feet with new resolve, wearing a look evocative of the Morrigan, the two sharing the same wild, cropped hair, the same fierce blue eyes. “I will do it,” she declared.
