Sword, Staff and Scepter

SWORD, STAFF AND
SCEPTRE
BOOK 1
PATH
OF
OSIRIS
PROLOGUE/PREFACE
Evil comes in many guises. Sometimes it
wears the face of a friend…sometimes
it comes as a friend.
I was in the great Temple of Ramses,
situated at Abu Simbel. I was coming
from the sanctuary, the room that
contained the statues of the four gods of
Egypt, the room that contained lots more.
The sword, Ra –sengis at my side. It
was a plain nondescript blade with white
runes etched into its black scabbard. I
strode down the hall, clutching the sword
tightly, for its plainness was a ploy to
fool the unwary. It is one of the greatest
treasures of Egypt. I was not overly
concerned about the sword however as it
was already in my grasp. I was headed
for an even greater treasure, one that
would complete the first part of my quest for imortality
Did that sound mad? I couldn’t help
wincing inwardly at the thought for I
feared I was Half-mad already with grief at
the loss my brother, father and
uncle. I walked on, my steps steady and
resolute. Had the vizier Panshj not said
that the only way to endure hardship was
to become hard? From the sanctuary, I
entered the southern treasure room, a
great and vast hall containing fabulous
treasures and religious relics. On a shelf
was what looked to be the bracelet of
Ramses, a fabled relic that was worth
fortunes. I plodded on unseeing of all the
treasures. I had a goal. One I could not
afford to be distracted from by all the
gold in Nubia. One the people I loved had
died for. I could feel the lump in my
throat as I remembered this but I steeled
myself and went on. After going
through the hall, I emerged in a corridor
that led me to my destination, the
pillared hall containing the cippus or
pointed rectangular pillars showing Horus
triumphing over dangerous beasts. As I
had barely seen the treasures and
objects in the hall I had passed, I only
dimly registered the beauty of this hall.
My photographic, no longer merely human
memory records it all though and
stows it away, the famous figures drawn
on the walls, dignifying the deities of
Egypt, the beautiful designs and murals
which gave the hall its splendor. All
only receive a passing glance. My attention
was on the end of the hall, where
lay the object of my desires, my dreams
and my pains, the fabled tears of Osiris.
The black sands he is rumored to have left
for his heir and predecessor. I sucked
in a ragged breath. After all I had seen, it
was not like I needed confirmation
that it existed but how it was. The essence
of immortality, one of the most
important weapons I needed in my fight
against Set, chief representation of evil.
I walked towards my goal.
The sands were in an hourglass, clutched
by a statue of Ramses depicted
as Osiris, Egyptian god of death. The statue
was one of eight statues lined
around the room. I stopped walking. My
superhuman senses could perceive
that something was not quite right. I could
smell the foul stench of evil in
the room. The dark and rank smell was
borne to my nose by the stale air in
the room. I followed the smell to its
source. From behind one of the pillars, a
shadow detached itself. A black, hooded
figure emerged. I stopped to consider
the figure. I could still feel other shadows
hiding behind pillars. The figure
was standing perfectly still, barring my
path. Another creature of Seth master
of Chaos. Seeking to obstruct and prevent
me from achieving my destiny to
overthrow him and avenge the brother he
slew in treachery. I also held the death
of my kin against him.
I could feel the rage rising in me. A boiling
cauldron of hate that threatened
to spill over. I cooled the flames of my
rage however and uncurled my fingers
from the hilt of the black sword,
remembering the instructions I had
received
with the blade. I glared at the silent
figure. Looks won’t kill however. I walked
on, My hand curled around the hilt of my
other slightly more ordinary sword,
resolute and determined to go through my
foe or foes (as they were definitely
more than one in the hall). The figure
stood silently, watching me approach, a
confident prey or perhaps he saw it the
other way round with me as the prey.
The plod plod of my steps echoed and
resounded in the hall. My other sword
was half-drawn, my face set in a silent
snarl. It was hard keeping a rein on my
rage remembering the deaths caused by
Seth, supreme manifestation of evil and
chief instigator of chaos.
I slowed my advance to watch the silent
cloaked figure. I had come too far and
seen too much to completely abandon
caution. I crouched in anticipation as the
cowled figure began to move. He put both
his hands slowly on the cowl of his
attire and threw it back with his bony
fingers. My eyes widened in shock and
the clatter of my sword echoed in the hall
as it (not the black sheathed sword)
dropped from my suddenly nerveless
fingers. The hand holding the black sword
shook as diverse emotions ran through me.
First shock, then pain, then pain
again and finally anger. Here was a two-
faced fiend. Half its face was that of
the shadowy manifestation that had
wreaked so much havoc in my life and
the other half, that of my brother
Amenhotep. The brother I had slain. For a
moment pain threatened to overwhelm
me and my sorrow drown me, then rage
won through and anger engulfed me,
sweeping me away in a savage wave, a
dense blackness that coalesced and
erupted from me in torrents. I didn’t bend
to
pick up the ordinary sword. My face was
set in a snarl. “You will regret taking
that form today, foul creature of Seth”, I
spat. The creature grinned, a wide feral
grin showing all its teeth. Jagged serrated
teeth they were. Amen’s face and
seth’s, grinning at me. My head pounded
and my blood was a roaring avalanche
in my veins. I could dimly remember a
voice in my head warning me that the
sword I held would destroy a mortal in an
instant. My fingers were gripping its
hilt so hard. In an instant, quicker than the
drop of one grain of sand from the
hourglass, four dark shapes disengaged
themselves from shadows cast by the
pillars. Four dark hounds to pull me down as
guilt over slaying Amen distracted
me. My foe had underestimated me again
it seemed.
Fast as it was, my no longer merely human
reflexes were even faster. I could
almost feel the breath of the slavish
hounds of Seth on my face. That was when
I drew the sword…Ra-sengis, the sword of
Ra. The weapon forged for the
father of the gods, Amon-ra, from a piece
of the sun by montu, Egyptian deity
of war. The sword I was warned not to
draw until I had clearly transcended
mortality and crossed the threshold into
godhood or as close to it as any mortal
could. The sword would destroy any mortal, even the weilder
in a second. I had crossed the point
of no return however, driven beyond by
the imposter. I no longer cared about
my quest or even if I was destroyed. I just
wanted to destroy the imposter. As
I pulled out the sword, with the fangs of
the hounds of Seth dripping their foul
saliva on me, there was a blinding flash
that announced the arrival of the sword
in the world. In that instant before
everything went black, I could glimpse the
blazing yellow light of what could only be a
miniature sun. At the same time,
I felt red-hot, searing heat run through
me, destroying my cells faster than they
could heal themselves. Then everything
went black… (Just before it did, I heard
the laughter of Seth)
*
*
*
…My name is Kemosiri and I am something
of a rarity, something that has
not been seen since the creation of the
world and Kemet, the two lands. I am
neither mortal nor deity but a crossbreed
between both, a demigod that sought
to become a deity and end the scourge of
chaos that ravaged Kemet, my home.
Forgive me for cutting my tale at that
point, but I believe that whether deity,
mortal or demigod, one should always tell
a story at the beginning and so I
shall.
Before the search for the hourglass of
death and the sands it contained, across
the wind-swept sands of Egypt (Kemet, the
black land) and beyond, this is what
occurred…
As told by Kemosiri, Panshj and the All-
Seeing Eye of Re.

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