[ Reply | Next | Previous | Up ]
From: Amemshehu
Date: 06 Jun 2000
Time: 07:58:33
High above the rumbling din of the bustling Egyptian necropolis, near the top of the steps of the largest ivory pyramid in Amenti, a lone figure neared the completion of her sojourn. Her steps were measured in the echoing clicks of her gilded, leather sandals on the smooth stone. Her black robes rustled in the high "altitude" winds as the number of stairs decreased one by one, gradually bringing her to the top of the structure, an ornately-bricked platform that served as an open-air foyer leading further into a small antechamber.
Eight floating guards in black robes, these trimmed in blood red, eyed the Seshet suspiciously as she strolled toward the black basalt door. Before she could reach it, two gleaming bronze scimitars crossed before her, one of the hooded wraiths slowly turning his face (mouth and nose visible) toward her to scrutinize.
"State your identification and purpose," whispered one of the guards in a gravelley voice.
"I am Amemshehu, Vizier and Sorceress of the Shemsu-Heru. I come to pay homage to the deity Osiris, the Beautiful One.
With that, the guards wordlessly withdrew their weapons in slow motion, their hoods never turning away from the mummy as she strode through the doors to the main chamber. Columns carved into statues of the Celesial gods loomed over the guards that stood neat each, dividing the gleaming gold tiles of hieroglyphics that spanned the high walls the formed the hollow of this apex. In the center sat a pale white, slender soul on a throne of gold and obsidian, arms crossed before him as he stared blankly forward at nothing.
The Wizard bowed respectfully toward the sitting statue, her eyes trying to meet his and see beyond the glaze that met her. He has been like this for two millenia, and showed little signs of imporvement, frustrating and confounding many of his peers, who knew him to have weathered the ages with grace and tenacity until the time of Anno Domini. Now he sat, all alone, collecting dust like a member of the living dead amongst worshippers who revered but would not care for him...in effect, the man was trapped like an idol in place. The Vizier wondered how he had not simply animated with insanity.
Leaning forward, Mem stretched her bronzed arm toward the figure. The sound of scraping metal and multiple, growling hisses attracted the unamused glare of the Seshet visitor to them...although she was not angry, a show of intolerance was necessary. "Reconsider taking that stance with me, children," Amemshehu rasped. "My friend here has been neglected. I'll not leave him coated in a layer of dust. Understood?" The weapons lowered, the guards watching coldly as they shrank back to their positions as she turned back to Osiris.
"Where do you find these people, old friend?" Mem chided as she carefully began to dust off the smooth, cold skin of her fellow Seshet. "You missed the most tyrannical little century yet, my friend...technology is catching up with magic...wars spanned the entire globe twice over...the New World has become the latest Promised Land...the humans finally proved to themselves that the moon is not made of green cheese...and yet, they still teach of you in higher annals of education, old friend. Horus is still lurking about Geneva...My Ka travelled to the New World to partake of this modern empire...Xorrin-Ra had the nerve to win the Ultimate Fighting Championship--that's form of gladiatorial combat that everyone in the world can scry now. Elsimep was chastised by Horus for attempting to pilfer the largest sapphire on Earth...one might say that, over time, we simply become more of what we are, no?
She spoke for hours, on many topics, as the creature she sat next to would not so much as flinch. Mem could not be certain that he was conscious, or even sentient any longer...he was the same as he was two millenia prior. Perhaps it was hope, or stubbornness, or persistence...or blind faith. She could only surmise that this near-deity she had venerated in life was being neglected by those who claimed to worship him. If he was still in there, he did not want silent worshippers...he wanted those who would speak with him, care for him directly, respect him in ways more than mere appearance and pomp. He had been a person once, for all his current divinity. He deserved to be treated as such.
At long last, she had exhausted her words, and wearied of discussion...until she saw what she thought was the quirk of the corner of Osiris' mouth. Turning to look up sharply, she saw no change in his visage. She thought she had seen his right index finger twitch, but when she turned to look more directly at the digit, there was no movement. Whether it be fatigue, tricks of the mind, or Osiris' fabled and subtle magics were unknown to her. The harder the mummy stared at her fellow, however, the more rambunctious the supposed movements seem to be, until she would blink...and they would be gone. Slowly standing, the Egyptian woman picked up her discarded black robe and wrapped it around her as she bowed her head and bended to one knee in parting to the deity. He seemed to be staruing directly down at her with unnerving matter of illusion as she rose, the eyes seeming to follow. Turning to leave the Reborn departed to the antechamber and then the steps down.
The cooling, caressing winds refreshed the soul and cleared her mind as she took each step with regal "speed", letting her thoughts wander as she contemplated the events of the waning eve. No wonder the others avoided the statued Seshet. Regardless, she would remain reverent to him for as long as he declined to complain. Some shows of reverence were more subtle and practical than others.