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The vast land of Egypt is ruled by a powerful pharaoh, who oversees from the tiniest grain of sand, until the bountiful waters of the Nile. That king in itself, is not like any other that this prosperous land had ever seen before, such was his power and adoration from both the common folk and gods high above, that he was blessed.
Well, that is, if you believe it to be a blessing.
The Pharaoh, that once answered by the name of Naib, was a king proficient in perseverance. Such was the feat, that when his palace had been invaded, he was the sole survivor. As his wounds cut deep into his flesh, the pharaoh, made much more a warrior than a sovereign, kept fighting against the invaders, putting them down, one by one. As that fateful night progressed, the full moon watched, in awe, as that man moved each of his brutalized limbs, corridor after corridor, passing each and every room, checking the last corner and window, and stone tablet, and sand pile, tirelessly, until no enemy was left.
As this task was fulfilled, the pharaoh returned to his throne room, floor covered in bodies and blood and sweat and misery, watching as his soul was finally allowed to grieve, each and every servant, every member of the royal family, all the mangled animals and burnt crops; that man, that king, that boy, found himself unable to cry. Looking up to the sky, he took off his headpiece, placing it on his throne, kneeling before it, gathering his last strength to speak in prayer.
“If I conquered any means of good favor in your eyes, my King, please waste no time in my soul, but judge kindly those who passed on in my behalf before their time was due.”
Even as he waited for a reply, his ears had already fallen deaf to anything except his own mind slowly blacking out. Naib’s body gave in, tumbling against the seat of his throne, and sliding down until he went limp on the ground, his blood already too scarce to make a pool around him, but nevertheless staining those golden steps that once led to his sovereignty.
As the daylight invaded the palace, quiet steps approached the throne room, maneuvering each and every body with subtle, extended grace. As the two figures passed, every single soul that had been stripped of its life gently floated towards these mysterious presences.
One, which was covered in white robes, and a veil over their head, twirled the remnants of existence that surrounded them, in their gold clawed hands, scooping them into a small pouch that seemed no fancier than one made out of bird’s leather. The other figure, slightly taller due to the golden headpiece they were wearing, kept walking, until they were met with the deceased pharaoh’s body.
“Truly a shame, for such a kind king to be put to misfortune such as this.”
The figure in white perked up their head. “Have you said something, great one?”
Without an answer, the second figure just approached the golden one, kneeling by the pharaoh’s face. Their hand that was devoid of claws, instead clothed in blue silk, slid against the short black hair that had been hidden under the king’s headpiece. As they lamented another passing, and the upcoming of a great trial, the white veiled figure frowned, taken aback by a mysterious feeling.
“My Sun, I plead that you feel this fallen one’s soul.”
“I have reasons to believe this to be your duty, my Moon.”
“Shush! Just believe me.”
Rolling their eyes under the headpiece’s mask, the golden figure crouched down. Their hand slowly reached for the pharaoh, skeptical of any reactions. But, as his touch came against the dark skin, they couldn’t help but recognize the pulsating feeling that came from inside, almost if it were caged in.
“This child of man has yet to fall.” They guessed, looking back at the veiled figure.
“I wouldn’t say it. Certainly his heart has stopped, as no more blood resides in his roots.” The other answered. “But… His soul seems to still fight on. It’s almost as if… It doesn’t realize it’s deceased.”
“I have yet to see something such as this coming from a man.” The sun answered. “Is there anything that can be done?”
Unsure of what would come of it, the white veiled figure placed their palm on the man’s face, pulling his soul in small strings, out of his nostrils, until it coagulated in one mass of light, floating above the stranger’s hand. The shine that came of it emitted a greenish color, and pulsated with fervor. The expression of recognition in these two’s faces was clearer now.
“Osiris.” The golden one spoke.
“My Sun,” a low voice replied from within the light. “To think ours paths would cross again so soon. I apologize for my crude appearance, Great Ra.”
“You needn’t worry about it, child.” Ra, the golden figure, replied, earnest. “What may I inquire of your presence in this man’s soul?”
“As far as I was concerned, you only go as far as to choose a worthy king, not inhabit him this far.” The white veiled one said, a smile on their face.
“Oh, the Moon.” Osiris acknowledged the other’s presence. “To have you both in unison… Could this be a result of your nightly traverse, my Sun?”
“Indeed. Thoth was aiding me to bring the sky during a full moon’s night, as we usually have it, and we witnessed the invasion that overcame the palace.”
“So you have seen it…” Osiris’ voice was lower.
“Quite the bloodshed, I must say.” The veiled one, Thoth, weighed in. “No less, this son of man even came as far as to pray before his passing.”
“A man of compassion.” Ra added.
“Surely so.” Osiris agreed. “He had prayed for my aid to have strength enough to cull these invaders, so as to avoid their rampage into the land outside the palace.”
“A merciful king until the very end.” The sun god sighed, cleaning a smear of blood on Naib’s cheek. “What a shame.”
The three deities sat in silence, mourning the small and yet very peculiar existence of that young pharaoh that came to move their souls so quickly and yet, so deeply. Osiris was the first to speak up after such a moment.
“As I seem to have such a rare occasion in which both sun and moon are beside me,” he began. “May I ask you both a favor? A wish, if you so inquire.”
“I have no reason to deny it, unless it is outside of my capabilities.”
Ra is fair, and compassionate. Thoth tends to give in easily as well, but it also comes with a price or a gamble, as they enjoy playing with others, a cunning spirit hidden behind such an innocent smile. They wouldn’t know it, but the wish Osiris was about to make was something he needn’t gamble for, but merely a brush of a deity’s whim, swept away by the strong winds that washed the dunes.
--
It’s a night of a new moon that bathes the relentless palace, stars guiding their light to show the cold corridors, seen from the countless windows spread throughout the building. In the royal chamber, a mess of a bed is within sight of the candle whose brightness creeps through the walls. Although, there is no one laying against the sheets. The owner of such a room stands by the balcony, staring deeply into the starry night, always so full of thoughts, filled with endless questions and incompatible answers. Pharaoh Naib, as he was once called, has his arms crossed over his chest, as his bright red eyes blink slowly, with each hush of a breeze hitting his bare torso.
His gaze shifts, as he watches the newly invaded room but the tail of his eyes, presence too familiar to be hostile, but nevertheless, dangerous as each blade he’d ever wielded. The king settles with himself to end the useless banter that plagues his mind for tonight. There are only so many opportunities that come in a night like this, after all. Uncrossing his arms, he turns his body, walking towards his bed, until he drops to one knee upon the white veiled figure that lays across these blankets.
“My Moon,” he calls, head lowered. “It’s my greatest honor to receive your presence within my chambers tonight, as always.”
The familiar presence chuckles, limping their arm out of bed, golden claws urging the pharaoh to come closer. He obeys dutifully, sitting by the bed, and allowing himself to smile. The person draped over his sheets has a golden mask with a moon-like crystal in the middle of it. Naib knows who they are, but they urge him to not call their real name while they meet, afraid of the jealousy of other deities.
“Did I surprise you, ruby-eyed pharaoh?”
Their voice feels like silk slowly and gently slipping against rough skin, raising each and every hair in one’s body, sending endless shivers through the spines of folk who will remain nights awoken by the sweet melody from the Moon.
“As usual, Lunar.” He answers, even though both of them are no longer surprised by each other, given the frequency of their meetings. “The new moon has graced your beauty tonight, I can tell. I cannot tell, though, the reasoning behind your presence this time.”
Lunar laughs cordially, using their hand to bring the pharaoh’s face closer to his, making the man bend over his body. Naib obliges, of course, placing an arm by the Moon’s head to keep his balance, not allowing himself to touch the other’s body needlessly.
“You still do not believe that I come for your company.” The deity states, without room for doubt. “Could this mean that my presence is unwanted?”
The king’s eyes widened with disbelief. “I would never--”
“I only joke, my dearest.” Lunar smiles, knowingly. “If you desire me to be here, you simply need to show it. I’m earnest that you know how to do just that, don’t you?”
Naib nods, lowering his head and closing his eyes; his lips touch the moon’s skin gently, asking permission, until he can feel the familiar embrace of those pale arms around his shoulders. As the deity readjusts themself, their pink lips catch the pharaoh’s, the beginning of a kiss so deep that reaches far down the afterlife, bringing back a passion that stands undisputed in any realm. Because Naib has always been so rough, and yet he finds his body holding itself back in each caress he gives to the other person. His fingers hold down the moonlit skin hidden under the white robes with adoration.
That being said, Lunar isn’t held back by any of those inner reservations. Their lips are lustful, being guided with precision by their unrivaled knowledge. It didn’t take long for Moon to learn each and every single special spot that adorned the pharaoh’s body, embedding this information carefully inside their soul and heart. At this time, they are unsure if either remain lighter than a feather’s weight, but needless to say, they simply needed to avoid any meeting with Anubis for the time being.
The king whispers adorations into Lunar’s ear from time to time, his shyness in such a state getting the better of him. He was never a vocal individual, either in combat or in bed; but he learnt the fastest way that his praises earn unique rewards from his deity.
Yes. ‘His’ deity.
At this point, Naib was engulfed completely into the greediness of men; he desires Lunar to be his, even though he knows it is not possible or plausible. Instead, he settles for being Lunar’s only one. His entire existence is devout for the Moon and the Sun, spending every single hour of existence in the arms of one who desires him, and who is desired by him.
At this exact hour, during the day, the pharaoh sits on the lap of a golden deity, that takes his place on the throne; Naib couldn’t ask for a better embrace, than to feel those sunbathed arms around his waist, hands palming his bare back, down the waist of his skirt, sliding against his toned thighs. All of that, whilst maintaining his molten golden eyes on the king’s. Their noses just barely touch, the air between them so thick with intensity, that Naib could’ve sworn it’s merely vapor from his humid body coming in contact with the blazing sun.
“I have longed for you, my Sun.”
Naib says, finally breaking their silence. He knows the Sun doesn’t speak out of his own volition, differently than Lunar. They can be so opposed to each other, and yet the pharaoh sees growing similarities between them, that neither would ever confess in honesty.
Both their headpieces are discarded on the floor, and the pharaoh’s hands raise from Sun’s shoulders to his curly locks of brown hair. The strands differ in tones of auburn, bathed by the sun at all times, allowing the locks to dicolor randomly. If anything, Naib loves it. His calloused hands brush gently against the deity’s scalp, down to the region of his neck in which the hair gets comparatively shorter, almost at Naib’s own length.
“You flatter me, young king.” Sun answers in a low, shy voice. It sends shivers down the pharaoh’s spine, and he feels it under his hands.
“I speak of the truth, only.” Naib replies almost immediately. His red eyes stare deeply into the other one’s. “I could be the happiest man within these dunes if you were to long for me, as well.”
This earns a smile from the deity, the king smiling as well, knowing that he had said the right thing. After all, he knew the sun like the back of his hand. Such a mysterious deity, a mysterious person, and yet, such a truthful heart is no trial to unravel, if the person so desires. Naib can say proudly that the Sun allowed him into his heart, and that is no small feat.
“Don’t make such jokes, my pharaoh.” Sun replies. “Why would I behold the name of Devotion, if not to adore your existence, over and over?”
Naib’s smile grows wider. “I must’ve forgotten your name.”
“You grow sly as a set, young king.” Sun reprimands him, without any actual strength to it. “Lunar must be visiting you with more frequency, are they not?”
“They have taught me to ask for your forgiveness, rather than permission.”
“That simply won’t do, will it?”
The king can feel the big smile against his lips, and he feels prouder than ever. He allows himself to be more daring with Devotion, as the deity frequently flatters his perseverance and wit. During these times, Naib doesn’t feel like a king anymore. Instead, he will gladly play the role of a follower. He would kneel at the foot of the Sun, just to feel his heat creeping inside his veins, overtaking his soul. The sunbathed hands scratch at the pharaoh’s dark skin, each and every scar burning with the prospect of deliverance.
Devotion makes him feel at the edge of death, and it just may be the most fulfilling ecstasy he has ever witnessed. His skin is burning up in desire, as the golden tears slide down Sun’s cheeks, falling and marking the king’s thighs like molten wax. As his deity allows himself to become more eager in their endeavor, their touch begins to sizzle, earning the most unique noises from the pharaoh, echoing through the throne room. Devotion’s mouth travels against the dark skin, tongue refreshing the heat like the Nile sweeping in among the feverish dunes. Each area kissed lingers in a tingling sensation.
Naib sighs in exalt, his torso finally going limp in the deity’s arms, chest expanding as his lung is filled again with oxygen, rather than the intoxicating vapor that had fogged his mind. Devotion is kind enough to hold him still until he recovers his posture, a gentle smile on his face, golden tears drying in place. Naib returns the smile, and as he does, the sun leans in and kisses his lips lovingly.
“Forgive me, my Sun.” Naib says, without any truth behind his plea.
Instead of reprimanding him, Devotion simply takes a little bite out of the king’s cheeks, pulling at it to chastise his behavior, but it only accounts towards making the pharaoh stare in surprise, before bursting into laughter. Sun smiles so happily that the corners of his mouth reveal small dimples, unknown to most of humanity and divinity. It’s at times like these that Devotion realizes that he had grown so fond of this son of man, each and every little quirk and trait that he had come to learn that made up this small king, so hopelessly adoring of him and Lunar. If he were to be told that such a man would captivate his soul so quickly, and so earnestly, he would have thought it a jest. And yet, Devotion finds himself visiting this very same throne room before his daily departure to guide the sun through the skies.
He couldn’t never begin to thank Osiris.
--
“As I seem to have such a rare occasion in which both sun and moon are beside me,” he began. “May I ask you both a favor? A wish, if you so inquire.”
“I have no reason to deny it, unless it is outside of my capabilities.”
“Transcend my powers into this man’s soul. Allow him to be reborn.” Osiris says, voice never faltering.
“But that would mean…” Lunar’s voice became serious.
“We would be one for eternity, yes.” The deity says. “But a man like this seldom comes around. His time was not due.”
Devotion inhales, weighing the wish. Should he maintain such a wicked balance, of a good man’s life that had been taken so early? Or should he decline his friend’s wishes? The three of them knew that if someone was aware of the repercussions of eternal life and rebirth, it would be Osiris. The deity himself had been brought back to life, after all. Ra looks at Thoth, who had been present when Osiris had been mummified. Lunar, who holds Osiris and Naib’s soul within their hands, sighs deeply.
“If he turns out to be unworthy--” The white veiled deity starts.
“I shall return to the afterlife, and regain my form as myself in due time.” Osiris replies promptly. “To which I ask of your assistance, Thoth.”
“My, always so troublesome, aren’t you?” Moon grimaces, before turning to Ra. “Let us grant our friend’s wishes, and keep an eye on this child, as well.”
Ra nods, placing his hands to hover over the green ball of light. “I shall meet you again soon, Osiris.”
“Thank you, my friends.”
As the night fell, the soldiers that came into the palace from the outskirts of the lands, found the palace, untouched. Each and every living being had been brought back to life, and seemed to be unaware that they had been through the halls of judgement in the afterlife. Upon the throne sat the pharaoh, a man once called Naib. Although, for the other kingdoms around his land, he was known as the Cursed Pharaoh, an unrelenting sovereign that could never die. His eyes, once black as his hair, turned to a piercing ruby red color. His left eye stays the mark of Horus, gifting to him as a blessing from the Sun god, Ra. At his waist, a translucent blue gem that mirrors the moon is carved on his belt, a gift from Thoth, god of the Moon and wisdom.
To his enemies, the pharaoh was cursed with eternity, watching the sun and moon travel across the skies until all became ash around him and his throne.
To his people, the king was a gentle, compassionate king that was adored by both the Sun and Moon, such that he had a permanent home amongst the stars. To Lunar and Devotion, Naib had been a surprise that they could have never predicted, a treasure that came into their lives, gracing their eternity with love and adoration.
Because, now, as Naib looked up to the sky, he knew that those he loved would look back at him from above, as their complete their endless circle across the skies.