Path of Osiris

Sword, staff and sceptreSword, staff and sceptre is a three pronged tale and will span over three books. Book one titled THE PATH OF OSIRIS, is the first book and tells the story of the struggles the prince faces and his trials. Ultimately, as the name suggests, the path he must take.Book two is titled THE WAR OF OSIRIS. Here he is well along in fulfilling his tasks as a protagonist and nearly succeeded in his goal at achieving divinity. He wages a war against his primal enemies and all who would stand between him and his goals.The last part of the tale is titled THE DEATH OF OSIRIS and well I won’t spoil the suspense here save to say that as the name suggests, the third book tells the story of his ‘’death’’. We all know death could mean many things so let’s not jump to conclusions. Heroes as we know don’t die. Well usually. Synopsis of book one: The Path of Osiris In this tale, the time of prophesy’s unfolding is neigh. The dark lord and master of chaos Seth hath slain his brother Osiris in treachery thereby consigning him to the underworld. He plans to tear a hole in the fabric of the planes, thereby making a portal into the world of men. Accomplishing this would grant him access to the world and the unleashing of wholesale chaos and whatever evil plans the master of evil had would follow.The priests of Ra and Osiris well aware of these events unfolding take steps to checkmate the master of chaos. The crown prince of Egypt Kemosiri aka Osiris is the main piece in this titanic struggle between good and evil and will spearhead the fight for preservation of life and carry out the tasks destiny hath set in store for him. The prince shares more than a name with the slain god however and the last essence of the slain god Osiris is what will enable him to fulfil his destiny and oppose Seth master of chaos and evil.


1. Riding into the sunrise

SWORD, STAFF AND SCEPTREBOOK 1PATHOFOSIRISPROLOGUE/PREFACEI was in the great Temple of Ramses, situated at Abu Simbel. My path took me through the sanctuary, the room that contained the statues of the four gods of Egypt, the room that contained lots more. The sword Ra –sengis at my side. It is a plain nondescript blade with white runes etched into its black scabbard. I strode down the hall, clutching the sword tightly, for its plainness was a ploy to fool the unwary. It is one of the greatest treasures of Egypt. I was not overly concerned about the sword however as it was already in my grasp. I was headed for an even greater treasure, one that would complete the first part of my quest. Did that sound mad? I couldn’t help wincing inwardly at the thought for I feared I was half-mad already with grief at the loss of my brother, father and uncle. I walked on, my steps steady and resolute. Had the vizier Panshj not said that the only way to endure hardship was to become hard? From the sanctuary, I entered the southern treasure room, a great and vast hall brimming with fabulous treasures and religious relics. On a shelf was what looked to be the bracelet of Ramses, a fabled relic that is worth fortunes. I plodded on unseeing of all the treasure. I had a goal. One I could not afford to be distracted from, even by all the gold in Nubia. One the people I loved had died for. I could feel the lump in my throat as I remembered this but I steeled myself and went on. After going through the hall, I emerged in a corridor that led me to my destination, the pillared hall containing the cippus or pointed rectangular pillars showing Horus triumphing over dangerous beasts. As I had barely seen the treasures and objects in the hall I had passed, I only dimly registered the beauty of this hall. My eidetic memory records it all though and stows it away, the famous figures drawn on the walls, dignifying the deities of Egypt, the beautiful designs and murals which gave the hall its splendor. All only receive a passing glance. My attention was fixed on the end of the hall, where lay the object of my desires, my dreams, and my pains, the fabled tears of Osiris. The black sands he is rumoured to have left for his heir and descendant. I sucked in a ragged breath. After all I had seen, it was not as if I needed confirmation that it existed but here it was. The essence of immortality, one of the most important weapons I needed in my fight against Set, chief representation of evil. I walked towards my goal.An hourglass, which held the sands, was in the iron-grasp of a statue of Ramses depicted as Osiris, Egyptian god of death. Of the eight statues lined around the room, this was the most awe-inspiring. Not least because of what it held. I stopped walking. My superhuman senses could perceive something odd about this room. I could smell the foul stench of evil in and about. The dark and rank smell was borne to my nose by the stale air of the room. I followed the smell to its source. From behind one of the pillars, a shadow detached itself. A black hooded figure emerged. I stopped to consider the figure. I could still feel other shadows hiding behind pillars. The figure was standing perfectly still, barring my path. Another creature of Seth master of Chaos, seeking to obstruct and prevent me from achieving my destiny to overthrow him and avenge the brother he slew in treachery. I also held the death of my kin against him.I could feel the rage rising in me, a boiling cauldron of hate that threatened to spill over. I cooled the flames of my rage however and uncurled my fingers from the hilt of the black sword, remembering the instructions I had received with the blade. I glared at the silent figure. Looks won’t kill however. I walked on; my hand curled around the hilt of my other slightly more ordinary sword, resolute and determined to go through my foe or foes (as they were definitely more than one in the hall). The figure stood silently, watching me approach, a confident prey or perhaps he saw it the other way round with me as the prey. The plod plod of my steps echoed and resounded in the hall. My other sword was half-drawn, my face set in a silent snarl. It was hard keeping a rein on my rage remembering the deaths caused by one of these denizens of Seth, supreme manifestation of evil and chief instigator of chaos.I slowed my advance to watch the silent cloaked figure. I had come too far and seen too much to completely abandon caution. I crouched in anticipation as the cowled figure began to move. He slowly placed both his hands on the cowl of his attire and threw it back with his with his bony fingers. My eyes widened in shock and the clatter of my sword echoed in the hall as it (not the black sheathed sword) dropped from my suddenly nerveless fingers. The hand holding the black sword shook as diverse emotions ran through me. First shock, then pain, then pain again and finally anger. Here was a two-faced fiend. Half its face was that of the shadowy manifestation that had wreaked so much havoc in my life and the other half, that of my brother Amenhotep. The brother I had slain. For a moment pain threatened to overwhelm me and my sorrow drown me, then rage won through and anger engulfed me, sweeping me away in a savage wave, a dense blackness that coalesced and erupted from me in torrents. I didn’t bend to pick up the ordinary sword. My face was set in a snarl. ‘You will regret taking that form today, foul creature of Seth’, I spat. The creature grinned, a wide feral grin showing its teeth in all hideousness. Jagged serrated teeth they were, a sickening blend of Amen’s face and Seth’s, grinning at me. My head pounded while my blood flowed with the force of a roaring avalanche within my veins. I could dimly remember a voice in my head warning me that the sword I held would destroy a mere mortal in an instant. My fingers were gripping its hilt so hard. In an instant, quicker than the drop of one grain of sand from the hourglass, four dark shapes disengaged themselves from shadows cast by the pillars. Four dark hounds to pull me down as guilt over slaying Amen distracted me. My foe had underestimated me again it seemed.Fast as it was, my lightening fast reflexes were even faster. I could faintly feel the breath of the slavish hounds of Seth on my face. That was when I drew the sword…Ra-sengis, the sword of Ra. The weapon forged for the father of the gods, Amon-ra, from a piece of the sun by Montu, Egyptian deity of war. The sword I was warned not to draw until I had clearly transcended mortality and crossed the threshold into godhood or come as close to it as any mortal could. The sword that would destroy any mortal in a second. I had crossed the point of no return however, driven beyond by the imposter. I no longer cared about my quest or even if I was destroyed. I just wanted to destroy the imposter. As I pulled out the sword, with the fangs of the hounds of Seth dripping their foul saliva on me, there was a blinding flash that announced the arrival of the sword in the world. In that instant before everything went black, I could glimpse the blazing yellow light of what could only be a miniature sun. At the same time, I felt red-hot, searing heat run through me, destroying my cells faster than they could heal themselves. Then everything went black… (Just before it did, I heard the laughter of Seth)*              *              *…My name is Osiris and I am something of a rarity, something that has not been seen since the creation of the world and Kemet, the two lands. I am neither man, nor deity, but a crossbreed between both, a demigod that sought to become a deity and end the scourge of chaos that ravaged Kemet my home.Forgive me for cutting my tale at that point, but I believe that whether deity, mortal or demigod, one should always tell a story at the beginning and so I shall.Before the search for the hourglass of death and the sands it contained, across the wind-swept sands of Egypt (Kemet, the black land) and beyond, this is what occurred… As told by Osiris, Panshj and the All-Seeing Eye of Ra.    PART 1 PATH OF OSIRIS             CHAPTER 1INTO THE SUNRISEThey say fools rush in where immortals fear to tread, but only fools may find or discover that which even immortals may not and this one has. As the golden glow of the rising sun illuminated the pre-dawn landscape, a small cloud of dust rose behind two figures riding east, into the sunrise. They rode with a purpose and determination that was evident in the steady gallop of the horses and the way the riders leaned forward in their saddles. One of the figures was young, tall, blue-eyed and handsome. His narrow face, pointed nose, bushy eyebrows and lips that could curve into a beautiful smile or handsome scowl saw to that. The second figure was older. He was more built than the youth, though he lacked the slightly muscled frame of the youth that proclaimed him a warrior. The older figure, a vizier, was clothed in maroon robes unlike the young man who was clothed as a warrior. After riding for some time, the horses stopped in the shadow of a building that looked to be a temple. It was in fact a temple, the temple of Osiris Egyptian god of death. The older man dismounted first. He was holding a walking-staff, the type wielded by practitioners of Heka or magic. The second figure dismounted. His bearing was regal and a rich cape flowed down his back. The sanguine look on his visage hinted at his royal antecedents. The older figure looked to him as he dismounted and arranged the weapon at his hip. ‘Absolute silence in there, prince’, the vizier commanded. The prince affirmed this with a soft musical sounding murmur. The older man, the vizier, turned and walked up to the ornate doors of the temple. He gestured to the prince, who walked up and laid his hands on the door handle. Together, they pushed on the doors, which grated open after a moment. They appeared to have been out of use for some time.    The faint light of early dawn illuminated the hall into which the doors opened. They walked into the hall, at the end of which was what appeared to be an altar. Their footsteps echoed in its eerie emptiness. Before they had gone ten steps into the hall, there was a resounding thud as the doors closed of their own accord behind them, plunging the room into darkness. One of the two parties in the room hissed a word and illumination was restored in the form of a phosphorescent glow beaming at the head of the vizier’s staff. The yellow glow of the ball of light bathed the hall, illuminating both the handsome features of the prince and the glyphs on the walls, depicting half-man half-beast figures, the various gods of Egypt. This gave the room an eerie spiritual appearance.They stopped before the altar and the vizier removed a bottle from his pouch. He poured out a sticky green liquid, which formed an arch, a symbol of enduring life, on the altar. The vizier took a knife from his pouch and handed his staff to the prince before pricking himself with the former. Blood trickled down onto the altar, conforming to the exact shape the green liquid had. As soon as this happened, the blood stopped trickling from the vizier’s palm. He closed his eyes in concentration and passed his hand over the wound, which closed immediately. With eyes still closed, he whispered a short incantation, causing the mixture to be soaked up by the altar. A sharp whine was heard by both travellers as of a mechanism activating. Suddenly the altar swung away from its position, revealing a flight of stairs leading down into endless gloom. ‘Hand me my staff, prince’, said the vizier, ‘and let light banish the dark’
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