After deciding to follow through with the original plan, Set found himself disillusioned with the prospect of aimlessly wandering the resplendent City of the Sun. Instead, he trudged back from the grandiose Temple of Osiris to his own more austere sanctuary, constructed from the golden sands of the desert.
At the Temple of Osiris, Set had found Isis by her husband's side, leaving no role for him in their divine dramas. Weary of the politics of gods, Set yawned deeply as he sank into his throne crafted from the same yellow sands as his temple. Gods like Set had little need for sleep, except as a respite from the tedium of immortality, it was more about mental solace than physical necessity. A satisfying perk of his divine nature was the absence of dreams, a serene escape from the constant machinations of godly life.
As he stretched out, ready to embrace the quietude of slumber, a peculiar sense shifted within him, the unmistakable signature of an unanticipated visitor. "What is she doing here?" he muttered under his breath, his curiosity piqued.
With a flicker of divine intent, Set eased the magical barriers at the temple's entrance. In strolled a black cat, adorned with serpentine golden earrings, wearing an enigmatic smile, it was Bastet, the feline goddess.
"What brings you here?" Set inquired, his voice tinged with both surprise and interest.
Bastet paused gracefully, a few paces away, her eyes gleaming with purpose. "I need your assistance with a certain matter," she declared.
"Oh?" Set's eyebrow arched, his interest now fully awakened. "And what might I gain from this?"
With a swish of her tail, Bastet revealed a pottery jar as large as a human head on the temple's stone floor. "I heard from Lom that you've been craving some sun wine," she teased.
At the mention of sun wine, Set's demeanor brightened instantly. "You have some of Ra's sun wine for me?!"
Bastet shook her head, a sly grin playing on her lips. "No, but I have something almost as exquisite, moonlight wine."
"Moonlight wine?" Set echoed, his confusion apparent.
"It's a rare brew from the moon god Khonsu," Bastet explained, her gaze lingering fondly on the jar. "He gifted this to me before he vanished into the eternal night. Though it's not as famed as sun wine, its taste is celebrated among those who've had the privilege of drinking it."
Set's mind wandered to the tales of Khonsu's disappearance twenty thousand years ago, a mystery unsolved at every divine conclave. Rumors among the gods suggested that Khonsu might have died, for a deity's essence returns to the primordial cosmos upon death, potentially to be reborn in a new divine form if no other god has claimed their domain.
As Set contemplated the implications, the promise of tasting moonlight wine, a beverage second only to the nectar of the sun, enticed him, stirring the sands of possibility in his ancient, scheming heart.
As the possibility of reinvigorating an ancient deity lingered in the air, Set mulled over the implications. Finally, he broke the silence, his voice resonating with the weight of centuries. "I accept your offer. What task do you seek to entrust to me?"
Bastet remained silent for a moment longer than usual. Suddenly, an ankh materialized on her sleek fur, emanating a soft, protective glow that soon filled the entire temple. Set observed her quietly, sensing no aggression or deceit in her posture.
"I desire that this matter remain between us," Bastet declared, her feline eyes narrowing with seriousness.
"You have my word," Set responded, his curiosity piqued even further by her request.
Bastet nodded, seemingly pleased with his assurance. "In the desert, there roams a river of blood," she began, her voice low and steady. "Its path is unpredictable, shying away from gods and mortals alike."
"You are the sovereign of the desert. Surely, locating and capturing it should pose no challenge to you," she added with a hint of challenge in her tone.
Set pondered this, delving into his vast, amalgamated memories. However, he found no trace of this mysterious Blood River within the recollections of his past selves.
"I cannot assure success in finding or capturing it," Set admitted honestly to Bastet. "The knowledge of such a river eludes even me."
"But you possess the means to achieve this," Bastet countered confidently. "It merely excels in concealing itself, but it cannot escape the desert's bounds."
"Very well, I shall endeavor to uncover it," Set conceded, then ventured to ask, "Might you share the reason for your interest in this elusive river?"
Bastet's expression turned inscrutable. "No," she replied tersely, then with a flick of her tail, the ankh disappeared as swiftly as it had appeared, and she exited the temple.
As Set watched her departure, he reflected on her past machinations, particularly those involving humans at the oasis, lured under the pretense of finding gold. Was the Blood River another of her intricate plots?
Perhaps, but now was not the time to delve into such suspicions.
Turning his attention to the pottery jar Bastet had left behind, Set lifted the lid, and immediately, a refreshing aroma wafted out. With a single deep inhale, the imagery of a brilliant full moon manifested before his eyes, its silvery light seemingly infusing his being with a subtle chill reminiscent of moonlight.
Acknowledging the exceptional quality of the brew, Set thought, "Indeed, this is a creation worthy of Khonsu himself!"
Determined to savor the drink at an appropriate moment, perhaps paired with a fitting meal, Set restrained his eagerness. After securing the lid back on the jar, he placed it carefully aside, a smile playing on his lips.
Allowing the calm of the night to wash over him, Set reclined on his throne and drifted into a tranquil, dreamless sleep.
As Seth awoke, the horizon was bathed in the deep hues of a blood-red sunrise. It was a daily reminder that Ra, the sun god, had once again triumphed over the chaos serpent Apep in the underworld. Quickly dressing in his ceremonial attire, a skirt adorned with stripes of blue, gold, and white, Seth adorned his head with the mask of Weseh, the eagle-headed guardian.
Stepping out of his temple sanctuary, Seth joined a procession of deities making their way to the grand Pantheon, the meeting place of the gods. Ascending the long, stone staircase, he entered the Pantheon, a vast hall whose walls were alive with vibrant frescoes depicting Ra's eternal battle with Apep, alongside scenes of celestial bodies, earthly creatures, and landscapes.
In front of these epic murals stood an array of thrones, arranged in a pyramid-like formation. The lower-tier gods occupied the base, above them sat the upper gods, and higher still were the thrones of the chief deities. At the pinnacle sat the solitary, exalted throne of the supreme god, elevated above all others.
Navigating from memory, Seth found his throne, distinguished by engravings of desert dunes, and took his seat. To his sides were the vacant thrones of Osiris, Isis, and Nephthys, who had yet to arrive. Among the chief deities, only Sekhmet was present, her formidable presence marked by a lioness's head atop a human body, clad in a blood-red linen dress. Gold jewelry adorned with the motifs of vanquished enemies clung to her limbs.
Sekhmet, the goddess of war, vengeance, and healing, was an imposing figure. Though they seldom interacted, she turned to Seth with a burning curiosity in her golden eyes. "Desert God, may I pose a query for you?" she inquired.
"Yes go ahead," Seth replied, his interest piqued amidst the tedium of waiting.
Her eyes, sharp and inquisitive, locked onto his. "What sensations accompany being grievously wounded by Apep?" she asked, her tone unexpectedly sincere.
Seth's expression hardened momentarily, misconstruing her intent. Yet as her earnestness became apparent, his features softened. "To clash with Apep is to feel one's very essence being eroded, as if the formidable powers granted to us dwindle to the frailty of a newborn," he explained, reflecting on the harrowing memories of battles past. "Such encounters leave scars not just on the body, but deep within the soul."
Realizing the weight of his words, Seth contemplated sharing more about his struggles, his emerging dread of Apeap that bordered on a phobia, causing physical malaise at the mere thought of the serpent. However, he knew well the stigma in their realm against acknowledging such vulnerabilities. In the world of gods, the concept of mental anguish was often dismissed, leaving Seth to wrestle with his fears in solitude.