Retribution

Standing with his back to the lip of the hole above the spherical chamber, Baniti double-checked the knotwork on his rope, attached to and jammed beneath the discarded stone lid. Looking down into the dark of the chamber in a half-turn, he took a deep breath and stepped back slightly, allowing his body to pivot from his feet on the lip until he was almost completely horizontal. Staring up at the sky, pulling tightly on the rope in order to keep himself positioned, he paused for just a moment before loosening his grip, sliding a few metres down the rope.

Now hanging inside the upper area of the sphere, Baniti allowed himself to revert to his natural, vertical state, and began to repeat the process of sliding carefully down the rope. He could now just barely make out some of the features of the chamber, such as the ledges cut into the rounded wall, and the openings to the tunnels connecting them.

Looking around, Baniti finally spotted his little sister, crouching behind the short barrier mounted to one such ledge. He began making his way lower, until he was satisfied enough with his height to begin swinging his way across. 

Kicking lightly with his legs, Baniti began to sway back and forth on the rope. Anipe looked up as his movement caught her eye, and he found himself praying that she was the only person to have seen the motion. Looking back at his younger sister as he swung further and further, he propelled himself forward one last time, ready to release the rope as he reached the optimal point of his swing. As he moved, however, a dim silver light glowed behind Anipe for just a moment, then disappeared; leaving in its wake a curious, albeit quite alarming, sight.

Where the brief burst of light had just been, now stood a man, tall and thin, covered head-to-toe in some form of hooded white robe that obscured all but the lower half of his face where a short, tidy black beard grew. As the man began to look around, most easily noticeable by the movement of his hood, Baniti took note of a large black bird standing on the stone floor beside the hooded figure, it’s head swivelling around curiously before it’s focus seemed to settle on Anipe, who had apparently noticed nothing and continued looking down toward the bottom of the large spherical chamber. Baniti, so enthralled and frightened by the sudden appearance, had long missed his chance to launch himself across the open space, and found himself swinging backward again, only to hurriedly resume his motions so as not to completely ruin his momentum.

When he finally began to swing forwards once more, however, the bird signalled it’s companion with a quiet chirp, and the hooded figure looked down before following the bird’s line of sight toward the small figure crouched a short distance away. Moving suddenly without warning, the man quickly crossed the distance and reached out a hand toward the girl.

Anipe, still oblivious to the presence behind her, had no reason to turn and see the mysterious figure behind her, at least not until she felt a hand on her shoulder. Expecting Baniti, she barely reacted at all, at least until the hand spun her around. Startled, Anipe looked up, staring into a pair of icy blue eyes barely visible in the shadow of the man’s hood.

‘Anipe?’

Confused, she blinked and cocked her head a little instinctively just as the man disappeared, crashing to the stone to her right with a surprised grunt. Turning quickly, Anipe saw her brother pinning the man to the ground. Strangely, the stranger seemed completely relaxed, and didn’t once move to struggle.

Rising slowly to her feet, she edged her way closer to the pair, eyes locked on the side of the newcomer’s hood.

‘He said my name,’ she said to Baniti, her gaze unwavering. 

‘What?’ Baniti asked, just barely registering the words.

‘He knows who I am.’

Baniti paused for just a moment, then shifted his weight and freed a hand, tugging his captive’s hood back. 

‘Do you recognise him?’

‘No,’ Anipe replied instantly. ‘Do you?’

‘Not even a little,’ Baniti admitted.

Vastly different from anyone the siblings had ever met, the man on the ground had almost deathly pale skin and jet black hair, tied up in a ponytail that would reach past his shoulders when standing. His eyes were icy blue, as Anipe had seen for just a moment, but the cheek below his right, and currently uppermost, eye bore a large vertical scar that seemed as though it should have continued through the eye itself. He was indeed very thin, though his head and carefully trimmed beard did a respectable job of hiding the fact, as did his robe for the rest of his body.

Chillingly, his eyes were all but sideways in their sockets, locked onto Anipe’s. 

‘We have never met,’ he said flatly, ‘but I am honoured to be in your presence… However, I would greatly appreciate the opportunity to stand and dust myself off… This cloth grows dirty rather quickly, unfortunately.’

‘Sorry,’ Baniti replied casually, though a little out of breath at the tenseness of the situation. ‘Not happening.’

‘Baniti… Let him up.’

Baniti looked at Anipe as she spoke, his face scrunched in scrutiny.

‘Are you crazy? We have no clue who he is - or where he came from!’

‘Does that really matter?’ The man on the floor interjected. ‘All you need to know is that I did not come here with the intention of harming either of you.’

‘Oh, yeah? How can we know that?’ Baniti challenged, pinning the man down even harder.

‘Simple. If I came here with such intent, would I not have had my friend remove your eyes? Or, something along those lines, at least…’ The man trailed off, his point made. Anipe began looking around, confused, but Baniti realised what the man had meant almost immediately; he had completely forgotten about the bird.

Risking a glance around, he spotted the creature a few steps away, staring at him with an almost human focus. Cursing silently, Baniti lowered his head, then stood back to allow the man to reclaim his footing.

‘Thank you,’ the man said, climbing to his feet and swatting at his clothes in an attempt to knock the dust free. As he did so, his robe pulled back on one side, revealing the hilt of a sword tucked away at his waist.

Neither Baniti or Anipe missed it, and both found themselves glad that he had not seen fit to draw it.

‘How do you know my sister?’ Baniti asked, launching back into his questioning.

‘Through a friend… I know you too, you know,’ the man stately simply as he continued to dust himself off.

‘You do? How?’

Standing straight, the man pulled the hood back over his face and grinned.

‘Through a friend.’

Exasperated, Baniti sighed aloud.

‘Are you going to tell us anything useful? What are you doing here?’

The man grunted thoughtfully for a moment, then shook his head.

‘Probably not, beyond the fact that I came here to save somebody.’

‘Save who?’

This time it was Anipe who asked the question. Glancing at her briefly, the man walked forward into a crouch, stopping at the edge where she had been just a short time earlier.

‘Her,’ the man said, gesturing down to the lower level - down to Masika. The bird he had arrived with suddenly took an interest in the ledge, and hopped its way over to the man’s side, where it began to chirp quietly and hop in place, almost impatiently.

‘...And I believe I will need help to do it.’

‘Help? Whose help?’ Baniti asked, taking over the questioning once more.

‘Both yours, and your sisters,’ the stranger responded, finally turning and looking Baniti in the eyes with an icy stare. ‘But for now, we must wait. Osiris’ plan must play out, at least to a point.’

‘What exactly is Osiris’ plan?’ Baniti asked, but it was his sister who answered.

“The Pharaoh said… He said they are to kill everyone down there, and he seemed to think it would make them stronger… What is stronger than a God?’

The man in white snorted, barely able to contain himself.

‘What? I am sure that is what I heard... Was I mistaken?’

The hopefulness in the young girl’s voice was quickly dashed as the man shook his head quickly.

‘Not likely… I only laugh because the Gods of Egypt are not Gods at all, merely children seeking power,’ he trailed off thoughtfully, his eyes scanning each of the visible faces around the lower ring. ‘I suppose you could say he really just wants to raise hell.’

The small group fell silent as the siblings considered the man’s words. It seemed ridiculous, but… He seemed so impossibly sure that it was the truth... 

The memory of Osiris soaring upward out of the crypt ran anew in Baniti’s mind, and he found himself with more questions than answers. While around his younger sister, though, he decided to wait.

‘Do you have a plan?’

Baniti barely heard his little sister as she whispered the question to the man crouching beside her. Amazed at how calm she was, he raised his head and looked over to her.

Gone was the little girl who ran circles around their farmhouse, giggling at everything she found interesting. She had always been smart for her age, but now… She was serious, maybe even wise beyond her years. The time after her sale to Nephthys, however brief it was in an objective sense, had not been kind to her, and she had grown - adapted to the new world she was thrown into so unceremoniously.

Now, as he himself sat and fretted over the details of their situation, she was already preparing to move forward, not ignoring her fear but simply working through it. What right did he have to be so fragile, when his little sister was being nothing short of courageous in the face of doom?

Taking several deep breaths to calm his nerves, Baniti swallowed and began creeping his way over to join the others. As he reached them, he noticed that the man was speaking almost impossibly quietly, and he was able to hear the tail end of whatever explanation he was giving Anipe.

‘... also tell you that we need to let them start the next step of the ritual, but we should begin to move when they do; let them do what they will with the guard and your friend, then stop them from involving anybody else,’ the man continued, gesturing vaguely towards the captives.

‘Why?’ Baniti asked, joining the discussion from behind the pair. The man in white half-turned his head, directing his voice to the newcomer. 

‘Because I know them both. Mertrashida, whom I believe you know as Masika, and Adil Tekin, now former Captain of the Guard here in Thebes. We will need the “gifts” Osiris is giving them, but the more members our party has, the more difficult it will be to leave.'

Anipe nodded. 

'It is true, her real name is Mertrashida… She left her past behind her when Nephthys bought her, though… Wait, do you know Nephthys? She is kind to me, maybe we can convince her to help us!'

'No, I regrettably never had the chance to meet her… Regardless, I believe Nephthys is unable to help us from this point forward…' The man said, his voice gaining volume.

The children may not have noticed the presence sneaking closer to the group, but his feathered companion certainly had; it cast a warning glance at the man and then behind, toward the tunnel that connected their platform to the rest of the chamber. It was a less than friendly presence, but didn't bother the man in the slightest; he had a pretty good idea of the person's identity, and he wanted his next words to be heard. 

'Are you sure? She really is different from the others, I could tell!'

'Enough, Anipe… Nephthys is just like the rest of that wretched family. She would never help a slave and a few strangers defy her kin.'

'But she hates Osiris!" Anipe protested.

The presence behind them shifted a little, moving a little closer as it picked up on the conversation and grew more interested in listening than in attacking. 

'With them or against them, Nephthys' standing bears no consequence to us… Osiris and his wife have most certainly killed her and drained her blood by now,' the man in white said matter-of-factly, ensuring that he kept his voice at a reasonably quiet, yet still discernible, volume.

The presence behind the group froze and spiked as the words left his mouth, the presence freezing as it processed the words. 

Within a few seconds, the sense began to fade as the presence rushed back down the tunnel in the direction from which it had come, wrapped feet slapping against the stone floor and fading fast. 

Anipe was frozen, too, to hear of her master's fate.

‘Killed…?’ Was all she could manage, too stunned and, surprisingly even to herself, pained, to utter more than a single word. Had it been anybody else, she would have felt vastly different. Nephthys, however, stood for much more than her status. She looked at Anipe as a human, not some tool she had purchased to work until death. In some ways, though she might have tried to hide it, she seemed to regard Anipe as someone close to her, even as the daughter she never had. 

Certainly, after the mess within her own family, Anipe had subconsciously grown to see her as a stand-in mother figure, albeit not quite as warm and familiar as her own late mother, due in no small part to her more cold and aloof nature. Now, having lost the third and only other adult figure to play even a marginally positive role in her life, Anipe began to truly feel fear - not a fear of death, but a fear of loss and pain. She began to fear the life laid out before her.

Still, in the darkness of such a sentiment, a light did shine on. She still had Baniti, and she still had Masika. Depending on how their current situation played out, she might even have a new friend, in the man in white. She could only hope things didn’t continue in the pattern that had begun to form.

Pacing back and forth in an empty chamber on the other side of the sphere, Osiris waited impatiently for word that the next stage of his plan was ready. Isis sat against one of the walls of the chamber, taking the chance to relax. Things had begun to move rather quickly, and the pair would soon have all the power they could ever dream of. The thought was exciting, to be sure, but it also made her nervous. SO much could go wrong with a plan like this, and she was uninformed of much of the plan itself. She sometimes wondered if Osiris himself knew for sure what they were doing, but she knew better than to voice such concerns.

‘How goes the ritual?’

Amenhotep’s voice startled both Isis and her husband as he stepped into the chamber, eyes locked on Osiris.

‘The mixture will be prepared soon… Where is my brother?’ Osiris asked.

‘Keeping an eye on the first ten. Captain Tekin allowed one to die, so Setesh locked him up in its place.’

Osiris froze mid-step, turning to face the Pharaoh. 

‘You allowed this to happen?’

Amenhotep shrugged.

‘It matters little. He was to be a part of the ritual anyway, was he not?’

Osiris’s eyes narrowed for a moment, then he shook his head.

‘Fine. Have the slaves been informed of the change in order?’

Amenhotep nodded.

‘Immediately.’

Now it was Osiris’ turn to nod.

‘Good. Now then,’ he continued, noticing a slave appearing in the doorway behind Amenhotep, ‘it seems we can continue the ritual. If there was nothing else…?’

‘Actually,’ Amenhotep began, as Osiris began to walk past him. The tall Egyptian hummed in response, turning to him curiously.

‘I need to see the sacrifices. Not the slaves, the sources of the blood.’

Osiris paused for a moment, then nodded at Isis, who began to rise to her feet. Osiris then continued on his way out of the chamber without uttering another word.

‘Come with me,’ Isis suggested, making her way to an exit on the opposite side of the chamber. Amenhotep fell into step behind her, following with a tense expression glued to his face.

‘Focus. The ritual continues.’ The man in white’s voice cut through Anipe’s thoughts of those she had lost, his hand gesturing carefully down toward the bottom of the sphere, where a procession of slaves and guards had begun to enter through one of the nearby tunnels. The slaves each carried an urn, filled with something dark. The slaves themselves moved carefully, unwilling to drop or spill their respective urn or its contents.

Upon entering, the guards all separated, taking up positions around the prisoners in the centre. They kept their spears poised and ready, almost freezing in place as they each trained their eyes on a target.

The slaves then moved forward, gathering in a triangle before the imprisoned guard. As the nearest urn was lifted toward his face, he began to struggle once more, straining to keep some distance. Of course, this behaviour came to a sudden stop once he felt the sharpened tip of a spear prickling against his throat. 

Easing himself, the guard slowly turned back to face the slave, and begrudgingly allowed the contents of the urn to be poured into his mouth. The moment he was finished pouring, the slave immediately clasped his hands over the guard’s mouth, preventing him from spitting any out. He waited until he was sure the man had consumed everything, then retreated into the triangle of slaves behind him as it moved to the next prisoner in line, a new slave with a full urn taking his place at the front.

Anipe felt her heart jump into her throat.

The “next slave in line” was Masika.

It was time to act.

Shifting beside her, readying himself to move, the man in white confirmed her thoughts.

‘Go.’

Turning on the spot, Anipe retreated toward the cover of the tunnel.

Osiris stepped onto the platform Amenhotep had made his announcement from earlier, surveying the scene before him. The first urn had already been consumed, and by none other than Captain Tekin, he noted. The slave that had just force-fed Tekin stood near the man, ready to unchain him. As he watched on, Osiris saw a slave approaching the sacrifice next to Tekin - a small, mousy girl with a determined look upon her face, out of place among the desperate, helpless appearance of the others that he could see. 

He watched as the young sacrifice met his gaze from down at the centre of the sphere, glaring at him as an urn was pressed to her lips. She gave no resistance; at least she knew better than to try. Choking down the contents of the urn, she didn’t break her gaze until the urn was replaced with the palm of a hand - then she seemed to direct her glare to the slave before her, who promptly lowered their head as they carried out their task. 

Isis walked into the chamber containing the two bodies as Masika was forced to drink from her urn. Amenhotep entered closely behind her, looking around seriously until his eyes fell on the bodies, each covered with a sheet of cloth. Moving with purpose, he strode toward them. Lifting the cloth of the closest, he studied the features of the guard that had been possessed by the Angel. Satisfied, he lowered the cloth, then moved to the second. 

In his peripheral vision, he noticed Isis turning away as he lifted the sheet from Nephthys’ face. He stared at her frozen, pained expression and her pale skin, then his hands began to shake. 

‘Very well,’ he said simply. ‘We may join Osiris, now.’

Looking at Isis, and she at him, the pair stood still for a moment as Isis nodded and turned for the exit. Stepping into place behind her as before, Amenhotep’s eyes darkened considerably. Isis had no way of knowing, but the Pharaoh behind her grew several inches taller as his features began to shift and warp. 

Before the pair had walked ten steps collectively, the figure standing behind Isis was that of Setesh, having no need to maintain his disguise. He reached forward, eyes locked furiously on the back of Isis’ neck, where he then suddenly gripped her tightly, flinging her head-first against the wall to their left in an instant, before she even had time to register the touch.

A sickening crack reverberated through the tunnel for a short distance, echoed by a violent thud as Setesh spun on his heel and kicked Isis’ head against the wall once more. Her body began to convulse with tremors for a moment, then stilled as she weakened. 

Wasting no time, Setesh made his way back the way the pair had come, face locked in a rage-fuelled sneer.

Osiris watched on as the slave in front of Masika confirmed her consumption, unaware of the presence approaching through the tunnel behind him. The next slave in line moved to the next sacrifice in the circle, a long-haired boy in his mid-teens. 

It was then that everything went wrong.

Osiris’ view of the mousy girl and the next sacrifice was suddenly obscured by a mess of white. The figure appeared to move at inhuman speed from Osiris’ upper right, landing halfway between his paltorm and the sacrificial pillars, then darted just as quickly toward the latter, revealing himself to be a pale-skinned man with long black hair and a meticulously clean white cloak. 

Cursing, Osiris leapt the barrier before him, landing with ease on the floor below. Brandishing a short sceptre from inside his attire, he rushed forward, moving to take out the new arrival as quickly as possible. 

The figure in white straightened and began to turn, just a little too slowly. Osiris raised his weapon as he crossed the distance at impossible speed, ready to strike with a fatal blow to the head. 

Then a small figure stepped around from the man’s side, breaking into a full sprint toward Osiris. As he focused on the girl, he noticed the khopesh clutched in her fist, already swinging toward where his head was about to be. At his speed, there was no way he could stop in time.

But he didn’t need to stop. For the briefest of moments, a strange look passed over the girl’s face, and then she vanished, disappearing into thin air. 

Surprised, Osiris fumbled in his steps a little, then continued rushing at the man in white - only to feel a sudden impact on his shoulders, forcing him to the ground with his attacker atop him, momentum carrying the pair to the feet of the disgraced Captain, barely two steps from the man in white, who had only just turned to see the events behind him. Reacting instantly, the man jumped behind the ceremonial innermost pillar, taking cover from the fight that was about to take place. 

Peering out around the side, he saw Setesh kneeling alongside a very alarmed-looking Osiris, hand wrapped tightly around his older brother’s throat, audibly searing the skin of his neck.

Lifting Osiris’ upper half by the neck, Setesh glared into the older sibling’s eyes, then stood, pulling his brother up, then wordlessly flung him into the air and leaping after him in close pursuit as he simultaneously sprouted his wings. He caught up to Osiris and carried him higher and higher,  until he slammed his brother back-first into the rock above. Dust and small chunks of rock began to fall from around the impact zone, plummeting to the ground beneath. 

It was only then that Setesh began to speak - or, rather, scream.

‘HOW DARE YOU?!’

He didn’t specify his meaning; nor did he need to. He could tell by the look on Osiris’ face right before he collided with the rock that the older sibling knew exactly what he had done to invoke Setesh’s wrath. 

‘She was weak! Not fit for the life we offer!’ Osiris yelled back, throwing a heavy punch as he fell back toward Setesh.

‘SHE WAS MY WIFE!’ Setesh gripped his brother’s arm and spun, launching him back up and kicking him in the stomach as he hit the rock once more, eliciting a pained gasp from his target.

Larger pieces of rock began to fall now, crashing to the floor around the chamber as the ceiling began to give.

‘She would only have slowed us down and you know it!’ Osiris called back after taking a second to regain his breath. He had known Setesh would find out sometime, but hadn’t planned for it to be so soon… The surprise attack, coupled with his intent to keep his younger brother alive, made it difficult for him to withstand the onslaught or to fight back to his full extent. Setesh, on the other hand, was out for blood, and he was an incredibly dangerous foe.

This was perhaps most accurately demonstrated when he began to disappear and reappear around Osiris, disorienting him and slashing at him with a hidden blade with every flash. Osiris’ eyes widened; he had seen this before, and had little chance of escaping now that he had already become trapped. 

Thankfully, just as he hadn’t needed to stop running at the man in white in order to avoid the mousy sacrifice’s khopesh, he didn’t need to escape Setesh’s trap in order to escape the seemingly unending assault.

Setesh made one final sudden appearance, directly behind - above - Osiris, and kicked down with all his might.

He fell too fast to even sprout his own wings. Within an instant of being kicked, Osiris found himself suspended just above the ground - held up by the large central pillar piercing directly through his torso and towering above, dripping red with fresh blood.

His screams of agony and rage overpowered even the sound of the pieces of rock crashing to the ground around him. Osiris was so enraged by his inability to lift himself free of the pillar, and so badly injured, that by the time he noticed that there were no longer any sacrifices chained to the pillars around him, Setesh had landed with a muffled thud at his side, though the sound was all but lost to the collapsing chamber. 

Setesh wasted no time after landing. With a swift kick below Osiris, he destroyed the base of the central pillar, allowing his older brother to hit the ground. Planting a foot on his back, Setesh then ripped the rest of the broken pillar upward, tearing Osiris’ flesh even more until the stone came free, leaving the older Egyptian gasping on the floor.

‘To Hell with the two of you and your stupid little ritual,’ he heard Setesh say, before he felt a sudden pain in the back of his head, and his vision went white.