The Memory Painter

Seth had returned a week after Kiya’s passing. He was inconsolable, and his grief gave way to resentment when he discovered that Thoth had been the one to comfort her. He had never forgiven himself, or Thoth, for not being the one by her side. With Kiya and his son gone, his heart had hardened into a bitter seed.

When Seth had announced that he would participate in the tournament for the Guardian that spring, Thoth had hoped this was a sign that the old Seth had returned. But as they sparred, he had seen the look in his brother’s eyes, and he realized that the bitterness had grown into something much worse—a dark animus against life. Thoth believed that, if Kiya had only lived, Seth would have been a different man. Perhaps Hermese had sensed this as well.

Thoth planned to ask her why she chose him after their first meeting. He would be allowed to enter the temple fortress tonight, on the eve of Sirius’s return.

*

By that afternoon, the rains had subsided in time for the grand procession to lead Thoth to the Temple of Atum. He would be the only person allowed inside. The pyramid complex was a quarter day’s journey from Heliopolis, and the crowd had now begun to gather at the temple gates, which had been adorned with thousands of white lotus flowers for the occasion.

Thoth’s father, Ramses, opened the gate. Seth was noticeably absent.

His father embraced him. “Horus smiles on us this day.”

Thoth looked at his father, surprised by his choice of words. Horus had been the last ruler of the first settlers of Old Egypt. Horus’ parents, Osiris and Isis, had been the original Guardians of the pyramid, and had supposedly lived for centuries. They had died hundreds of years ago, but Thoth still knew the legends: After the Great War, the last of the super beings had journeyed to Egypt, bringing all of their knowledge and wisdom with them. They built the Great Pyramid and its two sisters, along with the Sphinx, the temples, and all of Heliopolis. It was an attempt to salvage the way life had been before the Great War—a time in history that the people called the First Time, a time before the war had brought disease, death, greed, and rage to mankind. The last Guardian who had truly possessed divine powers was Horus, and when he died, the First Time died with him. After that a new age began—the Age of Man.

Thoth had never heard his father speak of Horus before, but his thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of a warrior dressed in full ceremonial armor. He clasped Thoth’s arm in a firm welcome and said, “I am Thutmose, Commander of the Guard for the House of Atum.”

Thoth looked up at him. The giant man towered over him by at least two heads and had muscles that made him look as if he could take on any army.

Thutmose and his guards led Thoth through the courtyard to the temple’s Constellation Chamber—the most magnificent room that Thoth had ever seen. He raised his eyes and marveled at the open ceiling, splayed with a golden, lattice-like web that connected all the constellations in the sky. The design revolved slowly to follow the movement of the stars as they rose and set each night.

Thutmose smiled, surprising Thoth with his genuine warmth. “Welcome, son of Ramses. Impressive, isn’t it?… Built to watch the night sky and honor the heavens.” Thutmose bowed and left him.

Thoth circled the room, wishing he had paid more attention to his astronomy lessons. The study of the stars had always been vital to Heliopolis, and Thoth knew that the astronomer who had designed this room was a master.

“The sky seems lonely without Sirius, our brightest star.”

A voice startled him from his reverie. Thoth turned and found himself face-to-face with Hermese. She was even more beautiful than she had seemed from afar. Her long black hair had been braided into a decorative rope interwoven with flowers that hung down her bare back. She was draped in exquisite shimmering robes that accentuated her feline grace, and her eyes were mysterious, colored like the most treasured emerald stone. Thoth stared into their depths and saw a deep wisdom. It overshadowed everything else about her.

He could think of nothing worthy to say to her.

They studied each other for a long time. The air was heavy with expectation, and Thoth could feel himself being judged. It would be the worst humiliation imaginable if she changed her mind now and sent him away.

But instead, she held out her hand to him and smiled. “Now let us dine.”

*