When death takes, it’s impersonal and impassive. It disregards goodbyes and regrets.
It cares merely for order—the order of the body, the soul, and the stark truth that time, the one thread connecting all, has snapped and pulled me from the world of the living.
My body obeyed first and the last of my breath slipped from my lungs. Counted and weighed.
Then, time moved on.
Duat was neither light nor dark; it was like a sleep-drunk memory I couldn’t place.
I shivered at the scent of chipped stone and salt. Its frigid air divided me, breaking my being into the five parts of the soul.
Ka— my life force— rushed under my skin, humming like the Nile river.
I touched my eyes. They were now bloodless. Painless.
My shadow, Shuet , watched me wander the black sea of sand, following at a distance.
Dunes shifted under my feet. Ash-fine grains hissed as they rose and fell like waves. Grey spirits clung to the tide, folding over their crests.
When I passed, the shades peeled off the sand and stalked me like curious puppies. Speaking in a jackal-like tongue, the shadows ‘yelped’ and ‘whined’ at me.
My shadow growled softly, lashing out at the spirits that circled me too closely.
I blinked at the sight. “What the—“
“Your Shuet is protective. Good,” a deep voice said. “Few shadows would be as bold in the underworld. Fewer would defend their masters.”
I turned and froze.
Anubis.
The jackal-headed deity motioned for the wandering spirits to depart, and they quieted, fading like death’s breath.
His skin was like the midnight sky; Starless, yet there was a burnished shine to it.
Like he was sculpted from the same Duat sand that eroded life’s memory.
My knees buckled under the weight of his gaze and I bowed before him.
My disembodied personality—Ba— was as dark as papyrus ink. As dark as him.
His dull gaze studied my scattered being and his one ear twitched.
“Heba Badran,” he said. “Asenath’s child.”
This was my father.
This god was Faris El-Azhar; A nerdy ‘undergrad lawyer’ who left my mother before I was born.
He signaled for me to stand and my strength returned.
A hundred thoughts and tens of questions plagued me. Most were angry, pained, confused. Most were about him. But all that came out was a whispered demand.
“Why?” I asked. Why did you leave us?
His lackluster eyes sharpened, and he looked down his snout at me. “Because,” he said.
Of course, I thought. Why would a god give a straight answer?
“Wow thanks, Dad.” I said dryly. “That’s so helpful.”
He ignored me, of course, and held out his hand. I hesitated before reaching for it— he shook his head.
“Your heart, daughter of Asenath.”
My hand hovered in the air. “Ah, right.”
Why did I expect anything more?
I pulled my Ib from my chest. The small organ beat under my fingertips with a slow sigh. Ka, my life force, pulsed through it with iron veins.
Anubis took it and my heart thudded faster in his grip.
Shades twisted over his other wrist and formed scales that hung off two fingers.
The downy feather of truth and order, Ma’at, materialized, and he weighed my heart on the scale.
My Ib skipped a beat, hiccupping as the feather tested it.
Seconds passed as minutes, and minutes as hours. I held my breath.
“Hm,” Anubis said, his brow furrowed a second. He glanced at me and then at the feather.
“Your heart is heavy,” He said. “But not enough to justify the second death.”
“What—“ I swallowed, my voice hoarse– “What does that mean?”
“It means that you are balanced. Barely.” He handed me back my heart as he spoke: “I have not had such a child for centuries; Not sired someone whose power shifted between damnation and salvation by a hair’s breadth.”
Anubis tilted his head, eyes narrowing. “The mortal world does not suit you, does it, child of mine?”
I clutched my heart to my chest, “I—“
“You were barely of age, and your heart began hardening like lead.” He thought for a moment, studying me. “I won’t return you to Asenath, but you cannot stay here, either.”
“No! Mom needs me.” I said, “She doesn’t have anyone else—“
He raised an eyebrow and, suddenly, my tongue felt heavier. My voice died in my throat.
“It’s already decided,” he said. “You will reside at the House of the Second Measure. Perhaps time spent amongst priests and other children of your kind will save your Ib from ruin. And protect others...”
“Just—“ I took a breath as I held back tears— “just let me say goodbye.”
Anubis shook his head. “It’s been two days. Asenath Badran will bury your Khat, soon. Your new body waits in Cairo.”