Chapter Text
Amun-Ra stood on the pristine stone steps of his palace within the Duat, overlooking the still waters of A’Aru as they reflected a perfect image of the eternal sunny sky above.
The air here was thicker than the mortal realm yet intoxicatingly sweet with the scent of lotus blooms and ancient incense.
Behind him, his palace towered above all others—as befitted the king of the gods. Its walls were intricately carved with hundreds of stories, both ancient and ongoing, etched in his own divine script as well as the tongues of other pantheons.
“Everything is ready my lord.” A gentle voice broke through the joyful mutterings and laughter of those lucky enough to pass through Lily Lake and into A’Aru.
Amun-Ra turned, his golden eyes landing on his most loyal servant, Fetket. With the head of a pharaoh hound, Fetket possessed a lean, slender frame—-a stark contrast to Amun-Ra’s powerful, broad build and majestic ram’s head. The servant’s fur rippled in the sweet breeze, a light brown almost appearing golden in the sunlight.
“Good. Let us head in, then.” Amun-Ra cast one final glance over the tranquil scene, his nostrils flaring at the last taste of warmth, before turning to ascend the steps. Fetket following close behind.
Although the air was warm and sunny outside the palace, the room the two Gods entered was dark and cold. A single torch across the room flickered within its sconce yet brought no warmth.
In the middle of the barren room, stood an altar. Its wood polished to a sheen, a mix of exotic foods, cursed treasures and magical artifacts sat atop a golden table cloth, each item placed to form a perfect spiral.
At the spiral’s heart lay two select pages from the Papyrus of Ani, an exact copy of the spellbook The Book of the Dead.
“I am sorry it took a little longer than expected, my lord. The items needed for this ritual were harder to obtain than I had anticipated.” Fetket fell into a deep bow, his ears laid flat against his skull.
Amun-Ra continued to make his way into the desolate chamber, huffing at Fetket’s words, his focus solely on the funerary altar before him.
“Twenty years of planning,” Amun-Ra began, shaking his head as the firelight danced along his curved horns. “A few days’ delay matters not.” His voice was calm as he gently plucked a page from the altar.
“Besides, if we had missed this Alignment, I could have easily just made another one. Might have caused a rift or two but nothing we wouldn't have been able to handle.” Amun-Ra chuckled softly, his ears flicking in amusement as he lazily traced a finger through the air. Golden light formed as he opened window after window to multiple realities and dimensions.
Three, to be precise—one revealed a mesmerizing waterfall, the next a dense, emerald jungle, and the last, vast rolling seas. Each vision flickered into existence for only a moment before he dismissed them all with a graceful sweep of his hand.
Fetket rolled his eyes at his king showing off. "Yes, I am well aware, however you know the Alignment is only part of this. If we mess this up, not even your grandiose powers will be able to fix it."
Amun-Ra chuckled, the sound reverberating through the cold chamber. "Your caution serves us well, old friend." He traced a finger along one of the canopic jars, his golden eyes reflecting in the polished alabaster.
"But tonight we will not fail."
Fetket’s ears twitched as the lone flame in the room began to flicker wildly.
Both he and Amun-Ra exhaled, their breaths turning to mist as the temperature dropped sharply—sudden, biting cold filling the chamber.
“The Alignment has begun,” Amun-Ra said, his voice steady with purpose as he placed the papyrus back on the altar.
“And so shall we.”
He began to chant, voice never wavering.
“Ba, Ka, Shuyet, Ib, Akh, Ren, Sekhem, weben.”
“Ba, Ka, Shuyet, Ib, Akh, Ren, Sekhem, weben.”
Fetket watched with rapt attention as Amun-Ra grabbed the torch, chanting three more times, making the air grow thick and heavy with anticipation, before suddenly tossing it onto the altar.
The fire consumed the Papyrus of Ani first, the pages curling in on themselves as if eager to burn. Then the flames moved hungrily to the offerings—devouring the food and artifacts as if the altar had been made for it, rather than for something far older.
Both gods dared not look away until the offerings and altar were all but ash, leaving behind the scent of myrrh and burnt fruit.
"Did you bring the canopic jars?" Amun-Ra asked, hand extended.
"Of course, my lord," Fetket replied, retrieving the smooth alabaster jars from his satchel.
Amun-Ra placed each one carefully into the ash, forming a spiral—Hapy, Duamutef, Imsety, and the rest. The warm ash seemed to welcome them, as though it had been waiting since the beginning of time.
The air thickened as the ash from the burnt offerings settled around the jars, forming intricate patterns like a language only the gods could read. Fetket's ears twitched forward in concentration as he stepped closer to the spiral formation.
"The veil grows thin," he whispered, watching as the spaces between the jars began to shimmer with an opalescent light. "I can feel the souls stirring."
Amun-Ra nodded, his massive ram's head casting elongated shadows across the floor. "The ancients called this moment 'neheh' – when time folds upon itself." He pressed his palm flat against the cold stone floor, sending ripples of golden energy outward toward the spiral. "Now we must open the path."
The canopic jars began to tremble, their lids rattling as something inside pushed against their seals. Fetket instinctively stepped back, his slender frame tensing as wisps of spectral energy leaked from beneath the jar lids.
"Do not falter now," Amun-Ra commanded, his voice gentle yet firm. "We've waited too long for this moment."
Fetket steadied himself and reached into his satchel, producing a small obsidian scarab.
"The final key, my lord."
Amun-Ra's eyes gleamed with approval as he took the scarab, its surface drinking in what little light remained in the chamber. He placed it in the center of the spiral, and a substance dark as the space between stars began to seep forth from the jars – not liquid, not gas, but something that seemed to contain entire constellations within its depths. It moved with terrible purpose, each droplet a universe unto itself, spreading through the ash like ink through water.
The starlit substance twisted upward, each stream rising from its broken vessel like smoke caught in an invisible wind. Slowly, deliberately, seven distinct silhouettes took shape in the chamber's flickering light.
First emerged a woman of terrible beauty, her vast wings unfurled like sheets of polished obsidian. Beside her, figures began to form one by one: a man with the proud ears and watchful gaze of a desert hare; another whose hyena head tilted in eternal laughter. The fourth bore the gentle features of a fallow deer, while the fifth crowned himself with peacock plumage that shimmered despite the darkness of his form. A cheetah-headed figure rose next, sleek and dangerous, and finally, a being with the elegant head of a grey cat, its eyes holding the same cosmic depth as the substance from which it was born.
They stood in their spiral formation, seven ancient powers drawn from seven sacred vessels, their forms rippling like reflections in a disturbed pond.
Life rushed into them like a first dawn. Seven simultaneous gasps shattered the chamber's silence as cosmic darkness solidified into flesh, each figure drawing breath as if tasting air for the first time. They swayed like newborn fawns, these ancient beings trapped in new forms, their movements a dance between power and uncertainty.
The winged woman steadied herself against empty air, her fingers splaying wide as if relearning the simple miracle of touch. The rabbit-headed figure took one tentative step, then another, wonder replacing confusion in his long-eared profile. Around the spiral they went, each one discovering their own existence – the hyena-headed one barking out a startled laugh as he found his balance, the fallow deer gracefully testing each limb, the peacock-crowned figure stretching arms toward the ceiling in elegant amazement. The cheetah-headed being crouched and rose, muscles remembering their purpose, while the grey cat tilted his head in fascination at his own hands.
They explored their bodies with the innocent marvel of children and the ancient wisdom of stars, each breath deeper than the last, each movement more certain than the one before.
Amun-Ra and Fetket watched in reverent silence, their stillness a stark contrast to the awakening beings before them. The ram-headed god's golden eyes gleamed with satisfaction, centuries of planning crystallized in this single moment. Beside him, Fetket's ears twitched forward in fascination, but he held his characteristic mischief in check, understanding the gravity of what they had wrought.
The winged woman noticed them first. She moved toward Amun-Ra and Fetket with careful steps, each movement a study in newfound grace.
"Hello," she breathed, and the simple word filled her with such delight that laughter bubbled up from her throat – pure and surprised, as if she'd just discovered the joy of sound itself. Her wings trembled with the pleasure of it, sending tiny shadows dancing across the chamber walls.
"Which one do you suppose this is, my lord?" Fetket whispered, his ears twitching as he fought to maintain his composure, though his tail betrayed him with an amused wag.
Amun-Ra shook his majestic ram's head, his voice carrying the weight of ancient wisdom. "Names have power, Fetket. They will find their own, speak them when they're ready. To force such knowledge would return them to ash." He watched the winged woman with golden eyes that held both patience and curiosity. "And there are no do-overs for a ritual such as this, as you've so kindly reminded me."
The rabbit-headed figure took tentative steps forward, each movement a careful experiment. His long ears swiveled at every sound, and his nose twitched rhythmically, sampling this new world of physical sensations. The simple act of breathing seemed to delight him.
"Hello?" The word emerged as both question and discovery, followed by a burst of laughter that bubbled up from somewhere deep and joyful. Like his sister before him, he seemed enchanted by the simple miracle of having a voice.
Amun-Ra watched with undisguised fascination. In all his millennia of existence, through countless cycles of death and rebirth, he had witnessed the first breaths of gods and mortals alike. But this – the birth of celestial beings taking physical form – was something entirely new. These weren't mere creations drawing their first breaths; they were ancient forces learning to exist within the boundaries of flesh and bone.
Like stars emerging at twilight, they came forward one by one. Each discovery of voice was its own small miracle – the hyena-head's laugh-punctuated greeting, the peacock's melodious hello, the fallow deer's gentle whisper. The cheetah-headed one purred his words, while the grey cat's voice carried a hint of mischief. Each new sound brought fresh delight, their joy echoing off the chamber walls.
But like a river breaking through a dam, those tentative greetings soon burst into something more. Single words became sentences, sentences flowed into conversations, and conversations quickly spiraled into friendly bickering. The hyena-head teased the peacock about his strut, while the grey cat and cheetah argued over who was more feline. The winged woman tried to mediate, only to be drawn into a debate about whether wings made her the eldest. Their voices overlapped and intertwined, millennia of cosmic companionship suddenly expressed through newly-formed tongues.
Amun-Ra watched the chaos unfold, amusement turning to concern as the chamber's torches flickered in response to their rising emotions. When the fallow deer's irritation made flowers sprout from the stone floor and the peacock's indignation caused his feathers to spark, the ram-headed god knew it was time to intervene. These new beings had power they didn't yet understand – power that could bring the entire Duat down around their ears if left unchecked.
"Enough!" Amun-Ra's voice cut through the chaos like a blade through silk. The chamber fell into such sudden silence that even the torches seemed to hold their breath.
His next words came softer, touched with the patience of a parent addressing excited children. "While I'm pleased you've found your voices, we must be mindful of our power. The Duat is delicate, even for gods."
The fallow deer-headed figure stepped forward first, his movements carrying an innate grace that belied his earlier clumsiness. "Of course. Forgive us. I suppose proper introductions are in order?" A gentle smile played across his features. "I am Sekhem."
"Sekhem?" Fetket's tail swished in amusement. "The power aspect of the soul? And here I thought you'd be more..." He gestured vaguely, "intimidating."
The winged woman lifted her chin. "I am Ba," she announced, her voice carrying echoes of stardust.
"And I am Ka." The rabbit-headed one's ears twitched forward as he spoke, still sampling the air with curious sniffs.
The grey cat-headed figure stretched languidly before speaking, his words rolling out like smoke. "Shuyet, at your service."
"I'm Ib!" The hyena-headed one could barely contain his excitement, his announcement bursting forth like laughter.
"Akh," said the cheetah-headed figure with a casual wave, though his eyes sparkled with barely contained energy.
Finally, the peacock-headed being inclined his head, his voice carrying the soft resonance of temple bells. "And I am Ren."
"Something feels wrong." Ba's violet eyes narrowed to slits, ancient wisdom bleeding through her new form. "We're not supposed to be here, are we?" Each word fell like a stone into still water, rippling with accusation.
Amun-Ra's chuckle rolled through the chamber like distant thunder. "You're a quick one, aren't you?" His golden eyes gleamed with something between admiration and warning.
"What is that supposed to mean?" Ka lunged forward, placing himself between his sister and the ram-headed god. His long ears laid flat against his skull, every line of his body radiating protective fury.
Ba placed a gentle hand on Ka's shoulder, easing him aside. Her wings unfurled to their full span, starlight shimmering along each feather as she faced Amun-Ra. "It means," she said, her voice carrying the weight of terrible understanding, "that he tore us from the cosmic dance. Stripped us from humanity." Her wings cast shifting shadows across the chamber as Amun-Ra took a deliberate step forward. "He didn't create us – he caged us."