“What’s that supposed to mean?” I hissed.
“It means,” Alex whispered, “that we are smack dab in the middle of one of the greatest wars between the old gods that ever existed. The Great War. Most were banished. The Creator left them to their own devices. The original dark ones, more powerful than any, half human half god. They are the original creation. Like gods. The first of the last.” Alex choked on the last part. “I’m an idiot, should have put two and two together, maybe my own sadness and arrogance didn’t let me see what was right in front of me. You want a history lesson, look around you. These gods make us look like plastic toys. Their only weakness is they can’t intervene with free will. Everything else is a free for all. And in our time, they are all but instinct.”
“Except for you,” I pointed out.
He glared. “I’m not allowed to go full god, one of the rules of actually enjoying my time on the immortal council. Last time didn’t go so well.” His eyes went dark as he shared a look with Tarek and Mason.
“I’m hungry.” This from Tarek.
All of us gaped.
“What?” He shrugged. “Just because we’re trying to undo something doesn’t mean my appetite changes. And I can’t survive off sand. I’m not Mason!”
“Thanks, man,” Mason grunted.
“Up you go, princess.” Before I could say anything Tarek had his hands around my waist and was lifting me up onto the horse attached to the other end of the reins I clutched. A lovely Arabian horse. My gorgeous Arabian horse.
Her coat was mostly white with faint shadings of gray at her feet. Her mane was braided and dyed different colors of blues and purples. She was so beautiful it hurt to look at her.
“Stop calling me princess.” I grabbed the reins.
Whatever I said earned chuckles.
“What now?” I hissed as we turned in the opposite direction of Ra’s temple.
“Thought your memory would be better now that we’re here.” Tarek shrugged. “Should we tell her?”
“No,” Alex snapped. “It has to be natural, organic. She has to experience things the same and make a different choice than last time. Furthermore, so does he.”
“Timber?”
Uneasiness fell over the three of them, but no one replied.
“Right?” I tried again.
“He’s… not known as Timber here,” was all Alex said.
“Who is he?” I almost didn’t want to know.
“Death,” Mason finally uttered as something flickered in his eyes, new knowledge maybe. “He is known as death.”
TIMBER
Egypt, Valley of the gods
“Father wants a virgin.” The first thing my brother Horus said as we rode through the valley, taking inventory of all the gods that no longer resided with us, and furthermore, taking a tally of the ones still living who could defy us taking over the gods of the Greeks.
Not many remaining.
Thank the Creator.
Dirty bastards anyway, less powerful, more whiny. Pity since they were beautiful to look at, horrible to escort to the Abyss, always arguing over why they should never die when that was the Creator’s plan all along.
An end, so He could finally start over, a new beginning.
My horse neighed.
“Quiet, Styx,” I murmured as we pulled to a stop in front of the Temple of Ra. It had been years since we’d visited. I was pulled to it now, and I couldn’t explain why.