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Meanwhile, Seth had journeyed to the mortal world and stood at the edge of a vast and ancient forest—the largest and deepest of any on the entire planet. It was one of which Osiris was particularly proud and to which he often journeyed to bring back plant samples as well as various creatures to add to his menagerie. Flexing his fingers, Seth seethed and paced.
How could this have happened without my knowledge? he wondered irascibly. His angry thoughts were a hailstorm pummeling the Earth, each vengeful idea bouncing wildly off the next. The air smelled of living things—tree sap, spruce, and pine—and a fine white mist blanketed the ground, giving the forest an air of mystery. Birds and small animals hopped from branch to moss-covered branch, filling the air with their happy song over the union.
Seth hated everything about the forest. The trees mocked him, standing thick-trunked and tall. Proud and immovable. Just like Osiris. As he stared into the shadows of the trees, Seth felt something dark and slithering unfurl inside him. It coiled around his heart and squeezed, its jaws unhinging to swallow him whole. Each beat of his heart was startling, as if he stood in a hallway full of doors and each one he tried to enter slammed with a shocking finality, barring his exit. Seth clenched his fists as the cold blackness oozed through his veins, daring him to move against it.
But then, instead of straining against the leviathan that had taken hold of his mind and heart, he stilled and allowed it to take root. As it circled and spread, he remained unmoving. He stood like a scarecrow, hollow and stiff-limbed, the sun bleaching him of any vestiges of sympathy or kindness.
When the darkness finally settled in him like a sleeping dragon, Seth moved. His heart was now a cold, black millstone—unbending, unyielding, and unfeeling. If he was not to be honored, then he would be feared. Determination burned in his body, melting any remaining doubts away like waxy tallow.
Raising his hands, he channeled his vast power, stretching himself further than he ever had before. He felt no pride in the act of unmaking, no fear of the consequences, only a sense of vindication. Thick tree roots erupted from the ground, creating a dense morass of wood that splintered and pushed until the trees fell and then disappeared, shrinking into the giant holes that had been their beds.
Soon all that was left were gaping wounds where the great soldiers of the forest had once stood. The remaining vegetation slouched over the empty pockets, half uprooted and fluttering like the lips of a toothless old man.
Moving forward, Seth worked. The ferns rolled in on themselves until they became dust and scattered in the wind. The clumps of delicate lichen and moss shriveled as if he’d set them on fire. They blackened and disappeared until even the smell of fungus, sap, and wood was obliterated. When he was done with the flora, Seth turned his attention to the fauna.
Larger animals cried out, the beasts lumbering haphazardly across the now alien terrain, completely oblivious to predator or prey as they searched for their lost homes. Closing his eyes, he unmade them all. Some quickly. Some slowly. Smaller creatures that had hidden in the remains of the plants scampered haphazardly into holes and burrowed in the dirt. Flocks of birds darted this way and that in chaotic patterns, often bumping into each other as if confused.
The vast numbers of creatures startled Seth, and yet he felt no remorse over their demise. Power filled his frame as he eradicated them, first as small groups and then by herds and swarms, until not even the tiniest ant remained. The blood and carnage that had stained the land with his slower unmakings was now gone. Gravity no longer had hold over him as he channeled his thoughts and rose into the air, scanning the vast plain before him for any remaining organisms, and found nothing but a river devoid of life.
White streams of water fell across the rocks, spilling like a woman’s hair over the arm of the one she loved. The thought caused a certain melancholy to steal over Seth. Irritated, he moved on to the deep pool the waterfall fed and sat upon a rock as he stared at his reflection. He should have been proud of the way he looked. Coming into his power had added a bronze glow of health to his skin and a full thickness to his hair, and had strengthened his frame. But the handsome face staring back at him seemed to mock him. It didn’t matter that his image had changed. He still hated what he saw.
Seth let out a heavy sigh, set aside his recent failure, and focused on how he could accomplish his goals, as well as what he should do about Isis’s abandonment. His mind stilled until his thoughts were as flat and motionless as the water’s surface. Then, with only the noise of the moving water as his companion, he plotted his next move.
When he was satisfied with his machinations, he rose, and to his delight found he was able to unmake the river as well. His mother immediately began crying at what he’d done, her clouds gathering overhead. He cocked his head as he realized that the water had been a part of her and that what he’d done had, in essence, been like cutting off a piece of her.
The idea that he could indeed harm a god, even one as powerful as his mother, filled him with happiness. The fat drops of her rain annoying him, he waved his hand and was gratified to feel her retreat from him completely. The ground rumbled as his father responded to the injury he’d caused his mother, but Seth ignored him.
The morning sun was only a handbreadth above the horizon as Seth turned in a slow circle to study his work. The vast forest of Osiris was now a barren desert that stretched as far as the eye could see. Not a drop of water existed within its bounds, and even his mother would think twice about raining upon it now. Rising into the air, he headed back to Heliopolis. There was much to do before he attended the reception that evening; the first task would require him to be his most charming self so as to distract the one planning the party.
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It proved easier than he thought. With the moon a glowing backdrop, Seth entered Amun-Ra’s home with a beautiful yet subdued Nephthys on his arm, which he deemed most appropriate. Seth and Nephthys swept into the feast and he was gratified that all eyes turned to him, even the goddess he’d lost to the one he loathed above all others.
“Seth,” Amun-Ra said with a small smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “So happy you could join us.”
“I see the feast has started without us,” Seth said.
Isis rose. “We weren’t sure you were coming.” The tone of the goddess was one of wariness but also confusion, especially as she noticed her sister’s arm resting upon Seth’s. “The feasting is over,” she said. “I’m sorry you had to miss it,” she added, pointedly looking at the sister who’d arranged everything.