|And Then Comes the Rising Sun
Author: Ori PM
When the kingdom Collapse all that is left is the memories of the dead. A story about the decline and the rise of Seto and the influence of the living goddess Isis – the only one still aliveRated: Fiction K+ - English - Angst - Isis I. & Seto K. - Words: 2,012 - Reviews: 32 - Favs: 7 - Follows: 4 - Published: 06-28-03 - Status: Complete - id: 1403642
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Anyway, this story takes place after the kingdom collapsed. Almost everyone we know in the King's court is dead. Seto and Isis are the only ones left (I figure that would explain why those two objects would be entrusted to the Ishtar family). Whether there will be one or not, I still do not know – the relationship between the two characters are extremely complicated. They are friends, they are not friends, they are opposites, and they are not opposites… You will get what I mean.
Chapter One – A Goddess Triumph
Under his hood, no one could see the face of the man, but he had taken the hood off the shoppers and the venders would have seen a head of brown hair, messy and greasy, as all hair that has not been washed for weeks look like. They would see his emotionless face, and his cracked lip. Finally they would see his weary blue eyes, a pair of eyes that had lost all hopes and ambition.
He walked to a small in at the side and sat down at a table.
"We don't give food out for free," said the innkeeper coldly, obviously annoyed that the man walked into his shop.
"I am not here to beg for any," replied the man softly. He reached into his cloak and pulled out a gold ring. "I think this should cover everything."
The innkeeper gasped. He examined the ring carefully. No doubt, that ring was made of gold. He muttered shakily, "Yes… it will be enough. You are a stranger to this village are you not? I have never seen you before, sir. What do you want my lord?" his voice suddenly filled with civility and warmth.
"Give me some meat and good wine. I have not had a good drink a while now," the man replied. The innkeeper hurried off to get the food. With a deep sigh, the traveler buried his head in his arms and rested on the table, a well deserved rest for days of walking in the endless desert.
"Hey you!" growled a voice behind him. His head snapped up but he did not turn around. The voice growled again, "You are sitting in my seat!" Again, the traveler ignored the voice. Finally a rough hand grabbed his shoulder and turned him around. "Hey! I am talking to you!"
A large man stood before him, his face red with anger. The young man said nothing. He looked to the ground, the hood completely covered his face. "Are you deaf?"
The innkeeper returned with meat and wine. When he saw the scene he frowned. He, being shorter than both men, decided it would be smart not to get involved. After all, the golden ring was already in his hand, no matter what happened to the stranger, it would not matter to him. Instead, he stood and watched.
"Are you asking for a fight?" the large man asked. He roughly lifted the man's face. Seeing the traveller's eyes, the bully recoiled. He cried, "Dear Ra! This man is an outlander!"
The people in the market turned their attention to the commotion. The bully regained his composure quickly and swung his fist at the outlander. The man ducked just in time. His hood fell off and his face was finally revealed. The bully gasped. The young man fled.
Everyone turned their head toward the brown haired young man. "Seto…" some muttered under their breath in disgust. The once lively market suddenly became silent. The venders left their stalls and merchandises, the shoppers dropped the items they just bought. They recognized the young man. They remembered what he did to their village in the last visit. They surged toward the traveler hostilely. The men, the women, the young and the old, they all glared, their eyes flickering dangerously.
With superhuman speed, the wave villagers, caught up to the traveler and surrounded him. The young man had no where he could go, like a small boat in an angry sea his situation seemed hopeless, he avoided their glares. He said nothing, there was nothing to for him to say. No words could justify his past actions. He capture men and women alike, put them under torture for the power of their Ka – men and women from this village. That was surely a great sin.
But perhaps, just perhaps dying in the hands of the victims, may at least pay for some of his faults, enough so his soul would not be devoured by Ammut.
For a moment the market place was silent, then commotion.
"Seto! You killed my father! Didn't you do enough damage? You are not leaving this village until I take revenge!" roared an angry vender.
"I will never forget those eyes of yours you demon!" a young woman shrieked hatefully. She began to sob.
"You were the one who killed my grandchildren!" an old man cried contemptuously, "Your blood shall pay!"
The excited mop gave a hideous cheer. Instantly stones appeared on the villagers hands. Unpleasant smirks appeared on their face.
Stones rained from all sides.
The adults at the front threw rocks malevolently with all their strength, encouraged by the cheers from the back. The children squirmed out of their parent's holds and ran wildly between legs. They wiggled their way to the front, laughing, enjoying the excitement, moments so rare in their dull lives. They formed a short wall in front of the adults.
"I bet you a bucket of water that I can throw this rock right at his temple!" cried a boy about ten.
"No you can't, stop bragging!" a girl about the same age replied. She smirked, "Go and try, but don't complain when you have to get water tomorrow at the well for me."
The children laughed.
The adults sneered.
Under the hot and humid afternoon sun, in a small village in Egypt –
The villagers were thirsty, thirsty for blood. They were hungry, hungry for vengeance.
The victim collapsed on his knees and slowly, but steadily, fell into unconsciousness.
To him the commotion grew dull. To him the villagers blurred and became nothing but a large yellow blob. He could hazily feel warm liquid flowing down his cheek. Blood? Sweat? Tears? Or perhaps all three? He couldn't tell nor did he care. At the top of his eyes he caught a glimpse of white above the crowd. He squinted his eyes slightly, and he could vaguely make out a woman in white seemingly floating in the sky. Smiling pleasantly? Jeering smugly? Again he could not tell. Her features were all lost in the white aura.
The chimes cut through the dry air. It cut through the anger in the people, their hatred and their bloodlust. The sound spread a calming spell in the air, and before long the market was once again quiet. Enchanted, each villager turned their attention to the pleasant chimes. The stoning creased for the moment.
Slowly the villagers turned toward the sound. There, in front of them were two rows of three young women wearing clean white linen dress. In their hands were delicate golden rattle which they shook in a disciplined and calming manner. Behind them was a fair woman on a sedan held by four men. Her long hair was carefully braided and decorated with a fine golden headdress. The colourful jewelleries made of precious stones and metals around her neck, arms, wrists, and ankles shone like her tanned skin under the sun.
The villagers stared at their visitors with awe for a visitor of such high status seldom set foot into the village. The rattle stopped ringing and an awkward silence befell the market place.
Suddenly a man in the crowd cried in recognition, "I have seen this woman before… In Akhmim! Dear Ra! She is the incarnated Isis - "
Everyone gasped. They dropped their rocks and sank to their knees. They bowed to the benevolent high priestess.
The woman shook her head with a smile. "Please stand up," she said as she motioned her servants to let the sedan down to the ground. She stood up gracefully and walked toward the commoners. A soft breeze blew and her fine, clean, and almost filmy white linen dress floated in the air. "My friends," she said in a gentle voice to the man in front of her, "Why do you gather here?"
The man stuttered, "Lady… We were stoning a monster."
"A monster?" Isis asked quietly with a small frown, "Of what sort?"
"My lady, here is a man who had betrayed the pharaoh and killed many of our friends and family in the past," the man replied softly.
Isis nodded and slowly moved through the crowd. The crowd split to let her through. She moved in such agile manners that it looked like she was not walking but floating. She reached the center and saw a wall, but no man.
The traveler was gone.
"Where is he?" she asked evenly, facing away from the crowd. Later that afternoon, people would debate whether a slight hint of satisfaction was present.
"Lady Isis…" the young woman closest by began to answer. She faltered when the high priestess turned around.
"Was it Seto?" Isis asked in a cold but earnest voice.
The woman was surprised. She tried to read the priestess' face, but it was unreadable. For a few quivering moments, the woman contemplated in her mind whether the truth would anger the great lady, but in front of such a godly guest, the woman dared not tell lies, "It was, my lady."
"Just as my visions told me," she muttered. She closed her eyes and said in a distant but cynically voice, "Fate, destiny – two very cruel forces, laughing at our incapability as humans," The priestess snorted darkly.
The young woman shuddered.
"And when a child with auburn hair is born – he is said to be blessed by Seth, the god of chaos – it is all fate's doing." Her voice became increasingly satirical as she continued, "A man can never choose the colour of their hair, or the favour of a God, or his stupid nature…" Finally she opened her eyes, "Do you think so my friend?"
"Yes… my lady," said the woman confused and lost in such strange comments made by the high priestess.
Isis shook his head slowly, disappointed in the lack of understanding. She looked steadily at the young woman and a knowing smile crept on to her lips. "Lady," she said softly to the young woman, "If I am correct, you are married for six years but you still did not conceive a child, you shall have a boy this year."
It was not until later, after a long private reflection that the young woman fully comprehended the words, ran out of her house and proudly repeated to every woman in the town what blessed Isis said to her in glee. When the words were first spoken the woman could only stare at the priestess with disbelieve. Before the woman could utter a word, Isis retreated gracefully away from the crowd, silently, thoughtfully, calmly.
Like a true goddess.