He recognized David immediately, for he had not changed for centuries, and he assumed that the dark-haired man on the far other side of him was his twin, the infamous Lucius he’d heard so much about. He smiled when he saw his brother, Libraean, another unchanged creature from his distant past, the glasses that obscured his variant eyes picking up the flashes of light. He saw Cahira, the liminal being and sorceress, and Sandrine, the woman who’d made him immortal.
There was a figure further back, dressed in billowing fabric; the last one to drift up the shore, as if she was taking her time observing the new world she’d arrived in. Her body was different, taller and curvier than he remembered, but he knew without a shadow of a doubt that she was his mother.
Although she had kept distance behind them all as they approached, she was in front of him in an instant, as if she had been waiting for his recognition. She pulled him into her arms without any hesitation, as if it had been only hours since they’d last seen each other in bodies they recognized. He melted in her arms, finally complete in knowing that she was the one who birthed him, the magnitude of years between them meaning nothing as they stood in embrace, the rest gathering around them.
“Good evening,” another voice said from behind him. Anubis realized Thomas had silently joined them. “My name is Thomas, Anubis’s assistant. Allow me to escort you all to your residence. I’m sure you’ve had quite the journey.”
Lucius reached forward with a smile and Anubis saw Thomas brighten. “I am so glad to see you again, young sir,” he said, taking his hand in both of his.
“It’s Lucius now,” he told him pleasantly.
His mother pulled away from him but took his face in her hands, staring into his eyes as she searched them with hers. Though her skin was porcelain white against his own, the shades of bright blue that swarm in her irises exactly mirrored his own. “Hello, my son,” she whispered.
He put his hands on hers. “Hello, mother.”
He heard Cahira scoff as she brushed past them, marching up the sandy bank.
“She is angry with me,” his mother explained. “We have a lot to catch up on.”
David finally caught his eye, giving him a warm smile and a nod. “It is good to see you in person.”
“Welcome back to Africa,” Anubis said, taking Morrigan by the hand. “Come, let us guide you to your home.” THE KINGDOM OF DAHOMEY, 1858
The rising sun stayed hidden behind a wall of storm clouds, a few cracks of orange managing to peek out of the smoky overcast gloom. The ocean rolled and crashed with the increasing winds, the tide high and raucous as though a full moon shone above it. It seemed the land was responding to her gods returning to it, submitting to the power of their presence.
Anubis had opened his home to them for the duration of their stay, a spacious villa-style abode made of mudbrick, positioned to overlook the beach. It was hidden by towers of natural rocks, the back concealed by brush and palm trees. It was so far from the main ports and protected by the natural topography that its presence would remain undetected even if it didn’t have the extra layer of magic surrounding its borders.
Thomas showed each guest their chambers, but Morrigan stayed with Anubis, not letting go of his hand until he led her into his open sitting room. Her eyes swept over his native-inspired pottery and animal bone art before they settled out the window. She took in the spectacular ocean view with a happy sigh, relishing in the occasional salt water spray that managed to reach its way through. “You have a beautiful home,” she murmured as she left the window to sink into one of the couches. “I love that it’s so close to the sea.”
“It reminds me of the Underworld,” he told her. “Rushing water and jagged rocks. Sometimes, I close my eyes and pretend I’m still there.” Before he could finish the words, a memory came to him, as strong as the last one had been, dragging him out of the present moment and thrusting him back into an ancient world he often forgot.
He saw himself wandering the realms, a young god brimming with curiosity. It was around the time Osiris had grown distant from him, focused entirely on daily interactions with his human subjects with young Horus at his side. Isis had also grown detached, holing up in the palace and refusing visitors. His Uncle Set spent his days alternating between rage and sorrow, spending so much time hunting his lost wife that the Underworld fell into disarray. Osiris tried to keep up with managing both realms but was overwhelmed, eventually letting Anubis take over the Underworld. He’d fallen into the work with natural ease, finding comfort in its shadows, a contentment in working amongst the dead.
It was on a day like any other, as he guided the latest crop of souls to their places, that he heard a whisper trickle through the darkness, so faint he almost missed it. Suicide. He hurried to finish his task and followed the sound past the familiar hills and rivers, up into the stagnant space that held the souls trapped between the living and the dead. He felt instant hopelessness upon arrival, the air stale and unmoving, the sky perpetually gray, a giant unmoving pond that stretched out around him, interrupted only by a few bumps of rock.
He noticed a woman folded around the largest one, weeping, the lower half of her submerged. Tears poured down her cheeks, mixing with the blood that ran from her wrists before draining into the murky water below. Her pain was palpable, overwhelming the space. He staggered for a moment from its intensity, wondering if he should flee before he saw her face and a glimpse of azure blue. His chest seized with recognition, but he forced himself to remain calm, understanding the delicate nature of the Between Space and that she’d never met him before.
He let his jackal visage fall away so she could see his human face. “Hello,” he said softly as he approached her. “Why are you so sad?”
She had grown thin and frail in her melancholy, nothing like the strong protectress he’d always imagined, her bones clearly visible through her lusterless almond skin.
“My children,” she murmured. “I want my children.”
Anubis knelt down to her level. “Have your children died?”
“No,” she said, her face slick with tears. He tried not to look down at her gruesome wounds. “I made a horrible mistake and had to leave them behind to protect them. I have lived alone for so long without those I love...I can no longer bear it.”
Anubis swallowed, trying to keep his own emotions steady. “What makes you believe death is better?”
“I was once the goddess of death,” she whispered. “Death is my home, my comfort. I long to return.”
“The Realm of the Dead is ruled over by Set,” Anubis gently pointed out. “Are you willing to see him again?”
“He will not know it is me,” she said. “He will think I am just another soul passing through.”
“But what if he does recognize you?”
She looked at him, quiet for a moment while she studied his face. Was she beginning to see him, realize who he was to her?
“He still does not know why I left him,” she finally said. “He might be furious with me for leaving, but I have nothing to fear.” She let out a long sigh. “He will try to trap me there, however, but I can accept that.”
“But what about your sister?” Anubis pressed. “You swore to protect her.”
“We arranged everything before I left,” she whispered as her tears began anew. “Osiris protects her now, and they watch over my children together. I am unneeded in any of their lives.”
“How do you know?”
“My sons have never even met me,” she explained. “They know her as their mother, as they should.”
Anubis struggled to keep his emotions contained, swallowing hard. “Well, I cannot let you die,” he told her. “Not yet.”
She surprised him by reaching up to touch his face. “You are a very nice young man,” she said with a weak smile, running her thumb along his cheek. “How do you know so much about me?”
Before he could help himself, he leaned forward to give her a hug, wondering how to tell her, when suddenly he heard her gasp, followed by an incredulous whisper.
“You are mine…”
He pulled away to see her face filled with wonderment.
