Page 11 of Seth
He listened to the air, the whispers in it, but only thirsty cries of withering life reached his ears.
Standing there for a moment longer, he turned east just to leave the sun behind. His claws sank into the sand as he descended the dune. The scorpion stirred and trailed after him as if knowing his master wouldn’t abandon those who were loyal.
Set drifted through the desert. The wind swept behind, erasing his footprints, and more often than not, burying the small deathstalker under the sand. Fighting nature, the arachnid kept stalking him, guarding him. Its tail hovered above its back, ready to sting as its grasping pedipalps snapped in the air.
The creature that instilled hatred and fear in any mortal being brought what would be a condescending smile to his muzzle if it had been capable of expressions.
The God of Chaos, the Master of Storms and Disorder, didn’t need protection for he was the name of war. With a swipe of his forked tail, Set could have lifted the scorpion on his shoulder, let it rest in the coolness of his collar piece, but every mortal creature needed a purpose in life, and this little fellow seemed to have just found one.
The red wind tossed a handful of sand at his face and brought a sharp, coppery smell. Set stilled.
The sha animal on his staff bared its teeth upon sensing blood. He mimicked the sneer, tugging dry air through his nostrils. Instinctively, he looked west. The golden disk of the sun rapidly fell into the red dust of the desert.
The sky will bleed soon.
As if hearing his thoughts, the animal head on the staff nodded.
Glaring at the falling sun, Set thrust the staff in the air.
“Be gone!” His voice, a whisper of a desert, roared through the wildness like a hollow wind. Dark clouds rose on the horizon, grim hands stretching toward the sun, swallowing it.
The desert dimmed, and the temperature dropped. The moan of relief, coming from every creature that had survived, rolled over the ground.
Turning his back to the defeated sun, Set rasped, “Let it storm.”
Small vortexes rose from the ground. Swirling around his legs, they lifted red sand, whisking it into thick clouds of an impenetrable shroud. Razor-sharp particles cut into his skin with every gust of hot air, ulcerating it more.
Set started walking again, guided by the smell. Even before he saw the tall construction erected in the middle of the desert, he knew what he searched for. Mimicking the curved form of a khopesh7sword, it stabbed the sky. The red blood streamed down the edge. When he reached the entrance, the storm sat on his shoulders like a cloak.
His hand pressed against the glass door. It slid away from his touch, letting him in. The darkness wrapped around him. The scorpion, rushing inside, plastered its small body over the obsidian floor, chilling, enjoying the safety. Set felt its relief in his blood. It pleased him, but it didn’t slow his steps. He knew time was running out as his body was falling apart.
His hooves clanged against the stone as he entered the soul of the building. Through the gloom, the sinews and veins stretched from every side to the middle of the round foyer where something hung above the ground. For Set, this lusterless form was brighter than a beacon light.
Every fiber of his being recognized this object as he drifted toward it. Stretching out his palm, he touched the cold, smooth glass.
His heart pulsed in his chest, reverberating in his fingertips. It recognized the object too.BA-DUMP. BA-DUMP. BA-DUMP.
It’s time…
Set lifted his hand to his chest. The claw of his index finger stabbed into his ribs as he tore down, opening his ribcage. Golden blood streamed out of the wound, shimmering in the darkness. His claws sank deeper as he yanked the left side of his ribcage open, breaking the breastbone, revealing his heart. It glowed with warm, golden light, illuminating the empty space in his chest where his lungs once were.
The Was-staff came to life. Like a snake, it twirled around his forearm, crawling up to his shoulder, therefore freeing his hand.
His heart glowed in his palm as he took it out. Even when he snapped the arteries and veins with his claws, it didn’t stop beating. The hollow spot in his chest pulsed, wanting the heart back, but Set ignored it as Justin needed it more. It was his final gift to the boy he once loved.
He stretched out his hand, and the glass, liquefying in front of him, swallowed his hand. Taking away the heart, it let go leaving a chilling emptiness behind.
A pang of sadness pierced his chest, making him feel even hollower. There was almost nothing left of him to give, yet he hadn’t found the one made for him. The object came to life. Uncontaminated light streamed from within, pulsing, as the red glass glimmered. And with every beat, the sinews and veins attached to it flashed, pushing the light to every corner of the sleeping building as if breathing life into it.
* * *
Seth sat up,panting, then tore off the eye mask. Blinking through the gloom, he stared at the pale, smooth skin of his arms, then at the white, cotton gloves covering his hands. Pushing a breath out, he peeled the gloves off, then reached up and touched his face; his human features felt oddly unfamiliar under his finger pads but only for a split second.
In his dreams, he had walked this desert a thousand times, but never before had he stepped into this building.
He had worked on the project for a month, designing and redesigning the kaleidoscope of prisms that would reflect the natural light. Without losing a fraction, they were supposed to create corridors of beams that concentrated on the foyer’s center, but something had always felt missing. Until today.
The heart…
