Horus looked admirably at his mother. “It can only be you, for you are the only one Set trusts. You must bring him here before we can resume the ritual.”
Suddenly the vision shifted, lifting away like a curtain to reveal a similar arrangement, with Set now suspended by cords that bound his arms so he could not bring forth his flames.
“You may bring Osiris back, but he will never be the same,” he mocked them as the two sisters raised their hands over opposing sides of the body. Anubis waited nearby, anointing the bandages with precious oils, a rite that would eventually become Egyptian custom.
A knife glinted in Horus’s hand as he nervously tightened his grip, his attention affixed to his uncle as he waited for the signal to attack.
“You will never be able to truly stop me,” Set continued to taunt. “I am the most powerful god among you all, now infused with both masculine and female power. I have killed my counterpart, for darkness always presides over the light—night always consumes the day. Do you not see how the humans now cower before us? How their land is barren and dry at my hands, and how they beg for my mercy?” He laughed. “There will never be anyone who can surpass my power. Even if you do manage to bring my nefarious brother back.”
The sisters ignored him, beginning to chant over the mummified body of Osiris. The air in the room began to stir as they pooled together their opposing energies until it funneled into a palpable force with an intensity so strong, it threatened to consume the chamber and its occupants.
Horus advanced to cut Set free from his bounds, prepared to place his body on top of Osiris for the bloodletting to occur. Unfortunately, Set had anticipated his move. As soon as Horus cut the cord, Set kicked his legs out from beneath him, shoved him to the ground and with one brutal sweep, plucked out one of his eyes.
Nephthys wavered in horror, but both sisters held fast to their chant, knowing it couldn’t be broken. Anubis, however, leapt to his brother’s defense. But Set’s hands were already ablaze, smirking as he turned one fist towards each brother, prepared to immolate them in unison. Nephthys, unable to hold back any longer, finally broke out of her trance. “Set, no, they are my children!” she shrieked.
Set faltered for a moment, his eyes wide in surprise. It was all Horus needed to pounce, slicing the thin flesh of Set’s throat from ear to ear. The brothers then grabbed him, lifting his body over their father until his gurgling blood coated the corpse’s bandages in visceral red. Set crumpled to the ground, dead, as the mummified corpse lifted itself up from its sarcophagus.
Nephthys flew to her resurrected lover’s side and began ripping away his bindings. But the face she revealed was not Osiris, but one that was ghostly pale, with coal black eyes and a set of shocking fangs where his teeth should have been. The creature she uncovered grabbed her and without a moment of hesitation, sunk its teeth into the tender flesh of her neck. She gasped, but did not fight him, her mournful eyes closing as she submitted willingly to what she knew would be the end to her suffering on earth—it was clear Osiris would never return.
Isis realized what was happening and extracted the sword from a shocked and frozen Horus, plunging it into Osiris’s heart from the back. The two lovers collapsed into his tomb together. Isis rushed to the sarcophagus only to learn she had been too late, both her sister and her husband were dead, lying together in a mess of blood and tangled limbs. She whipped around to see that Horus had also expired from his wounds, his yellow hair radiating out from his handsome face like the sun, his expression peaceful beyond the horrific gore of his removed eye. She almost collapsed then, but made the gruesome discovery of Horus’s detached eye lying not far from where he lay. She forced herself to retrieve it, placing it gently back into his skull so that he would be whole when he arrived at the Underworld. Then she draped her body over his and succumbed to her building lamentation.
The ground trembled with her pain, collapsing the towers of gold treasures that lined the tomb. Isis was despondent as they crashed to the floor, rooted to the floor where she lay with Horus, even as the earthquake split the land in two, the volatile chasm swallowing everything around her.
Hekate’s voice melted the apocalyptic scene away. “At the last moment, before she was also consumed by the edacious crater, a falcon appeared, pulling her from the wreckage and delivering her to the muddy banks of the Nile. Although she thanked her familiar, she no longer had any desire to be on earth, even as much as it needed her. She freed her consciousness to the astral plane and transformed her body and heka into a graceful acacia tree, so that she could exist, undisturbed, for centuries.
“Anubis, in the meantime, had seized Set’s soul as it lifted away from his body, dragging it down to a realm called Tartarus, the lowest point of the Underworld where only traitorous, banished creatures dwelled. Since that time, other gods from different pantheons have also used this place to send their most despicable entities, which added a fourth realm to our world. Set, with all his intelligence and cunning, eventually became its ruler, lying in patient wait for the day he could enact his revenge against those who deceived him.”
“Why do you tell me this tale?” David finally broke free of his spellbound stupor, his mind spinning at the parallels being laid out before him.
“None of the Ancient Ones remember their lives as Egyptian deities, but this is our history. Your history. I am the only one among us who truly remembers.”
“You are Isis.”
“I am her reincarnated.”
David stared in awe. “Is there more to this tale?”
“Yes,” she nodded. “The second part of this story lies within your own memories, but they are buried deep within your unconscious mind where even I cannot reach. I would like to try, however, by telling you what I have been told and what I have witnessed, in the hopes they will return to you.”
“Yes, please continue,” David urged.
“Osiris and Nephthys ascended to the Upperworld, a place above the earth where they could exist peacefully. It soon evolved into a collective realm for all the gods, similar to the territories we create on our earth, with each pantheon in its respective space. It became the fifth and final otherworldly realm.
“Anubis, the only earthbound god remaining, realized Isis had left the heka vulnerable to anyone who might discover it. Magic had already begun to trickle out of the Acadia Tree into all the plants of the earth through their networks. Anubis feared that eventually the heka would dissipate entirely and the Acadia would perish. So, he created a council of ethereal beings manifested out of the four elemental properties of earth, who would protect the tree and its power from harm. The Council also became responsible for maintaining order on earth in the gods’ absence, ensuring ma’at, or perfect balance, so that life could continue on. It was the very presence of the Ancient Ones on earth that had once kept that balance.
“Ironically, the humans would begin to call Set’s Underworld the Kingdom of Osiris, believing he was the one who would greet them when they died. But Osiris and Nephthys were actually hiding peacefully in the Upperworld, freed of Set’s hateful presence. It was Anubis who took over the Underworld, or Duat, as we called it, aided by several other gods the humans created.
“The story could have ended here, but eventually Nephthys grew restless once more. She had become deeply attached to the earth during her time there and longed to be back amongst her people. She discovered that gods could visit earth in the form of apparitions, and when she did, she found herself drawn to the lush hills and waters of Ireland, far away from her homeland and its painful memories. So in love did she become with the land, that she began to whisper stories to the ancient Druids, telling them tales of a god and goddess so strong and noble, they would protect the Celtic people for centuries. Convinced, the Druids siphoned heka out of the trees, bringing Osiris and Nephthys back in the form of demigods who they called the Daghda and the Morrigan.”
David shut his eyes, overcome with emotion. “Go on,” he whispered.
Her voice seemed to detach, tumbling over the hills that he now saw himself surrounded by. “Morrigan knew Set would never find them in different bodies; humans were creating new gods at an alarming rate, the ancient originals powerless to stop them. But although it was a time of divine expansion, it was also a time of peaceful co-existence, all deities complicit in an unspoken agreement to maintain the proper balance and continue fostering the evolution of man. What Morrigan did not anticipate, however, was that their reincarnation meant the complete dissolution of their former lives, their memories scattered to the wind. Fortunately, they still maintained their love for each other, and Morrigan bore a painful longing for children she could not recall. Save for that, Osiris and Nephthys were no more.
“Regardless of their absent memories, Daghda and Morrigan lived contentedly among the Celtic tribes, joined by a pantheon of gods who became their brethren in the truest sense. Daghda was named patriarch of their family, who the Druids called the Tuatha De Danann. Morrigan was never again able to conceive, but the earth had given her the power to shape-shift, which produced a strong, maternal connection to the animals she invoked, particularly the wolf, the horse, and the crow. She thought of them, and the Celtic warriors she protected, as her brood.
“In the meantime, Set had been waiting patiently in the Underworld for the moment he could strike. The instant that Morrigan and Daghda reentered the physical world, a crack appeared in the fabric that separated the realms allowing Set to rise to the surface in non-corporeal form. He made a deal to switch places with a snake daemon called Typhon, who had offered aid to the Council throughout the years with their less pleasant affairs. He used Typhon’s body to make his way to Egypt, happening upon a young madman who worshiped at the foot of an acacia tree, raving to all who listened that the tree whispered secrets to him. The Council knew about the man, but believed he was harmless and paid him no mind. But Set knew better, for the man had discovered the body and dormant magic of Isis and was obsessed. Set’s spirit slipped out of Typhon’s body to possess the handsome young tree-worshipper and pulled Isis out of hiding. He then convinced her to come to his home so that he could care for her, and Isis, not knowing he was anything other than a human, agreed.
“After several days together, she fell for his charms and allowed him to lay with her. When she awoke, the apparition of Set was by her side. He informed her that he had cursed her womb, and that from that point on she would birth one daughter, who would birth one daughter, and so forth, each new child taking her power until she withered and died. They would be his daughters to call upon when he needed them. Devastated, Isis tried to enact revenge, but Set was not yet physical and could not be harmed. He told her he would lift the curse if she brought him to life. I’m sure Lucius has told you the rest,” Hekate added.
“He said a powerful sorceress brought him to earth, first as a dragon, then as the creature he is today. Flawed, he says.”
Hekate nodded. “So wicked was his soul that it could only be housed by a beast. Isis discovered the only way she could give him human form would be to use the body of the young man Set had once possessed. She had to pull out the poor man’s soul completely before sending Set’s soul permanently back inside. She never forgave herself for this act, for her actions went against everything she represented—she was a goddess who created life, not destroyed it. Heartbroken, she withdrew immediately to the empty, mountainous hills of what would one day be Transylvania to birth her first daughter and wait patiently for death.”
“Why do you call her she, if you are her, reincarnated?”
“I have detached memories like yourself, but I have long practiced their retrieval. I can see the timeline as if I am standing witness, but my true perspective is in the eyes of the mortal woman, Hekate. Just like you are David, above all else. I am the first time Isis has truly reincarnated, for it took our family generations before a vessel was created that was strong enough to house both her soul and her heka.”
“You are one of the daughters then.”
“I am. Lucius never lifted the curse. In fact, with his rebirth came the additional curse that no other god would ever be able to reincarnate on earth again unless he explicitly allowed it. He created his own network of daemons and creatures to serve him, including other blood drinkers like himself.”
A thought occurred to David. “What about your brother, Dragos?”
“Having a twin was what ensured my body would be strong enough to house Isis. He absorbed any human weakness that would prevent my body from serving as a sound vessel, but please don’t ever let on that I referred to him as weak.” She gave a playful smile before continuing. “Morrigan did not remember her sister on earth, nor did she learn of the beguilement, until well after she and Daghda returned to the Upperworld, after the Celtic people continued to expand their territories and change, the Christian religion replacing the religions of old. As soon as they ascended, their full memories returned and Morrigan discovered that her sister was not only trapped on earth, but was now joined by their nemesis.
“Morrigan refused to accept what had transpired, calling upon all the gods and goddesses in the Upperrealms to inform them of her sister’s tragedy and Lucius’s new reign on earth. Not one among them provided her with a solution, and Lucius had made it impossible for any of them to return there even if they were willing to help. Although she was furious that they had allowed her sister to be harmed, she petitioned the Council to help her find a discrepancy in the curse so she could go back.”
“Wait,” David interrupted her, softly. “I remember.”
