Chapter Two

Anubis

When one of the spirits failed to transition smoothly to Duat, an unsettling wave of concern rippled through me. The journey from the mortal realm to the afterlife was a process of utmost delicacy, and any disruption was a cause for alarm. I traced the faint, dissipating trail of his life essence, leading me straight to one of the sacred temples dedicated to my name.

I had expected to find evidence of a botched mummification—a result of an amateur's clumsy handling or a misstep in the sacred rituals. Instead, what I discovered was both baffling and deeply troubling. In the sanctum of my temple, a young human female was engaged in an act of profound desecration.

Her presence was a jarring anomaly in the hallowed space. The temple, once a serene bastion of spiritual transition, was now marred by her crude actions. She was dumping a body haphazardly, treating the once-revered remains with a startling lack of reverence. I watched in astonishment and fascination as she tossed the lifeless form with eased practice.

A female, who also deals with the dead. My interest was piqued.

I could hardly comprehend what I was witnessing. My confusion deepened as I observed her actions. How had a mere mortal, especially one so evidently untrained and uninformed about the sacred rites, come to be in such a position? Her ignorance and haphazard treatment of the body were both an affront and a mystery. What drove her to commit such a violation in a space that was designed to honor and guide the spirits to their final destination?

"By the sands of time…" I muttered.

As I watched from the shadows, it became clear that this was not merely an error but a deliberate act. The energy in the temple was thick with disarray, the once-pure vibrations now corrupted by her presence. I needed to confront this intruder and restore the sacred order.

She caught me by surprise again when she was able to wield a Was -sceptre—a symbol of power. The long staff topped with a forked head emitted a beam of light that pierced through my phantom minions, leading me to believe she played an unexpected role in the spiritual order and that there was more to this little human female than meets the eye.

The shadows fold around us, consuming the grandeur of the temple and transporting us to the darkened realm of Duat. Here, the air was thick with the scent of ancient dread, and the shifting mists echoed with the murmur of my exasperation.

This blabbering mortal will be the eternal death of me. Instead of fear, she continued to stumble behind me, speaking of metal concerts and horror movies depicting beings with pins sticking out of their skulls.

"Hey, stop walking so fast! I've got shorter legs than you do."

I reluctantly led her through all that was Duat, my patience wearing thin with every step she took, wondering if I should just call Osiris here and be rid of her. It wasn't my plan to bring her here. She should have run like a normal mortal. Instead, she boldly stood her ground with her sceptre, allowing herself to be captured by the darkness.

Foolish mortal.

"Okay, this is not exactly what I had in mind for tonight," she muttered, stumbling over an uneven patch of ground. Her voice was a blend of anxiety and awkward humor, the kind that would have been more appropriate at a poorly planned party than in the underworld.

Her attempts at casual conversation only deepened my irritation.

When I first materialized before her at my temple, my presence should have rendered any mortal speechless. Instead, she gawked at me with a blend of awe and something that looked alarmingly close to curiosity.

I didn't like the way my body responded to such a reception. My confusion angered me.

"Whoa," she said, her eyes widening. "Is this, like, a special effects room or something? Because if so, it's really impressive. But also kind of terrifying. So, points for both? How much do they pay extras for horror flicks anyway? Oh! Do I get to be the one to open that weird box that destroys the world?"

"Duat," I intoned, trying to keep my voice steady despite wanting to bite her head off to make her stop yammering. "The underworld, where souls are judged and balance is maintained. And you—" I gestured to her with a mixture of exasperation and incredulity—"are not supposed to be here."

She blinked at me, clearly not grasping the gravity of her situation. "Well, I definitely didn't plan for an afterlife detour on my evening stroll," she said, brushing some dust off her shoulder as though she'd been caught in an unfortunate spill rather than divine retribution. "Any chance we can work something out? Like, a special offer on judgment?"

Arousal stirred within me, catching me by surprise. It was a sensation so unexpected that it made me momentarily lose my composure. I was momentarily at a loss for words until irritation, once again, clouded all other emotions.

Her lack of awareness was baffling. And what exactly could a mortal offer a deity? The vexation of mortals ceases to amaze me.

"You are not a soul. You are a living mortal who has trespassed into sacred space. There are protocols for dealing with such—" I struggled to find the right word, "—irregularities."

"Protocols, got it," she said, nodding as if she was taking notes. "So, what's the usual procedure for handling unexpected visitors who aren't quite dead but still trespass? Do you have a form I need to fill out, or is there a waiver I should sign?"

I groaned inwardly, both agitated and fascinated as she boldly stumbled beside me, her eyes darting around the eerie beauty of Duat with an odd mixture of wonder and misplaced optimism. Her movements were clumsy, yet there was an unmistakable determination in her posture. The scent of her, a curious blend of the recently deceased with a hint of blood, wafted to my nose, and it struck me with unexpected intensity. She smelled like home, a haunting reminder of the afterlife I was so deeply entwined with. I flicked my ears back at the wayward thought, trying to suppress the unsettling connection it evoked.

As we proceeded, the atmosphere around us shifted. A disembodied spirit, its essence unraveling like mist in the morning sun, followed us at a distance. It drifted aimlessly, its once-clear form now fragmented and dissipating into the void of Duat. The spirit's deterioration mirrored the chaos and confusion that seemed to pervade our journey.

"I suppose we should get you to the Hall of Two Truths," I said coldly, trying to maintain a semblance of detachment despite the turmoil within me. "It's where the souls are judged."

The Hall of Two Truths, a place where the weight of one's deeds was measured against the feather of Ma'at, was a destination that promised clarity amid the chaos. As we approached, the air grew heavier with the presence of ancient spirits and the echoes of divine judgments. The spirit that followed us, now barely more than a wisp of its former self, seemed to waver with the ebb and flow of our progress, adding an eerie punctuation to our path.

The little female elbows me and I stop abruptly, startled by her sudden touch. "Hey, who's the creep following us?"

I looked in the direction of her pointing to see the disembodied spirit floating a short distance behind us.

"Your, as you say, ‘late night snack'," I deadpanned.

She gasps and jumps back, hitting my body with hers as if seeking my presence for comfort. It was a strange sensation and thought to wrap around. My hand moved on its own accord, slowly rising to touch her skin when she elbowed me again.

"You mean that's sleazy Yalin from the bar? The guy that molested the teenage girl before getting a drink and trying to grab me in the ass?" Her demeanor instantly shifted upon her realization, her hands instantly on her round hips. "Seems I can't get rid of you scum. Why are you following me? I told you, I didn't want any of your drinks or your touches."

She took a bold step forward and my hackles rose.

"And I made sure you never touch anyone again," she hisses like a deity in her own right with the power of life and death in her hands. "I should have cut your head off and fed it to the fishes."

The spirit's light shifts in hue, expanding and contracting with emotion. A few awkward moments later, the spirit's light dims slightly, its voice cracking with frustration. "I'm trying to find peace here! Is it too much to ask for a bit of understanding?"

"Oh, understanding?" she retorts, hands digging into her hips. "Maybe try offering a bit of actual remorse before asking for that. You're in no position to demand anything after the mess you've made."

The little female swung her finger directly into my face without turning around, making me snarl. "It's not like Anubis here is running a charity for disgruntled spirits."

I scowled, bewildered by how I'd become entangled in their argument. The spirit's light flickered in a resigned pattern, while she shot one last disparaging glance at the apparition.

"Just stay away from me," she snapped before grabbing my hand and pulling me behind her. "Come on, Anubis. We don't need the likes of him with us."

Her misplaced optimism about our relationship clashed with the grim reality of our surroundings, and her scent—a visceral reminder of the mortal world—hung between us like a shadow. I felt the tension between my duty and the strange, unsettling attraction I harbored.

The journey to the Hall of Two Truths was not just about navigating the realm of the dead but also about confronting the unexpected emotions stirred within me by this unwelcome, yet oddly captivating, intruder.

"I suppose we should get you to the Hall of Two Truths," I tell her coldly. "Where the souls are judged."

"Oh, great," she said, looking more excited than apprehensive. "I've always wanted to see a scale in action. Are we talking ‘Scale of Justice' or ‘the Big Cheese' of cosmic judgment? Because I'm really into that stuff."

Osiris help me. My ears flicked back in agitation. This is why I'd rather deal with the dead. The dead didn't speak. The dead didn't do… whatever she was doing to me.

As we approached the Hall of Two Truths, a place in the afterlife where the deceased were judged before passing into an eternal paradise known as the Field of Reeds, her attempts at flippancy continued.

She glanced at the towering scales and the grimacing statues that lined the hall. "Wow, this place is really... spacious. I can totally see why you'd want to hang out here. It's got that whole ‘endless waiting room' vibe. So, what's the plan?"

I couldn't help but be perplexed by her nonchalant attitude toward what was supposed to be a solemn, intimidating space. Her casual demeanor was at odds with the gravity of our situation, and her apparent ease with me added another layer of confusion. Though, I sensed the tension she carried every time ‘sleazy Yalin' got too close to her liking.

I guided her to the scales. "You will face the trials of Duat," I declared with a hint of finality, my frustration barely concealed. "They will test you and—hopefully—instill a sense of respect for the boundaries between life and death."

"Trials? Sounds like a reality show," she quipped, glancing around with an amused expression. "Do I get a chance to win a fabulous prize, or is it just a lifelong subscription to the Underworld Gazette?"

Her comments were met with silence as I struggled to maintain my composure. The underworld was not a stage for comedy, and yet her presence made it seem as though it should be. I could only hope that the trials would impress upon her the seriousness of her intrusion.

As I watched her, a disquieting realization settled over me. Her easy banter and untroubled demeanor, so inappropriate with the solemnity of our surroundings, stirred an unfamiliar sensation within me— her presence was, in a way, profoundly affecting me.

I'd spent eons as a solitary guardian of the dead, surrounded by the endless procession of souls and the immutable duties of my role. The weight of my responsibility had long overshadowed any personal longing or desire for companionship. Yet here she was, a living spark of irreverence and vitality in a place defined by silence and death.

I'd never realized how deeply the loneliness of my existence had penetrated until she arrived. Her presence, though disruptive and puzzling, had brought a new dimension to my otherwise monotonous existence. It was as if her light-heartedness revealed a part of me that had been buried under centuries of formality and obligation.

My ears flicked back. I wondered what it might be like to have a companion who could bring a touch of humanity into my otherwise detached existence. Someone who could see the humor in the grim, the light in the darkness, and perhaps, even make the trials of the afterlife seem a bit more bearable.

The idea was both intriguing and unsettling. It made me question my own isolation and the routines I had grown so accustomed to.

As I prepared to guide her through the trials, I couldn't help but wonder if this unexpected companion might bring more than just temporary disruption. Perhaps she would offer a different perspective on my world, one that I had never imagined, and in doing so, reshape my understanding of what it meant to be truly alone.