29. Hall of Truth
Rhazien
I surface from the deadly whirlpool's grasp and find myself in a vast chamber heavy with ancient opulence. I truly thought I’d drown. The remnants of that awful vision still cling to my skin like grime.
One by one, the rest of the seven materialize—soaked, battered, eyes haunted. We exchange brief, grim looks—it’s apparent whatever we endured beyond the waterfall left its mark.
No time to exchange stories though. The far end of the vast hallway is already crowded, and we’ve just appeared on the opposite side.
“Do you know where we are?” I whisper, still very much mortal and bleeding.
Azael looks around, there’s a new hollowness in his eyes that wasn’t there before. “I think we're in the Hall of Truth.” He rasps.
My eyebrows crawl up as the rest survey their surroundings.
In my limited knowledge of the Egyptian Underworld, the Hall of Truth is where a deceased's fate in the afterlife is determined by weighing their heart against the feather of truth.
It's a vast, echoing chamber carved from black obsidian and gold-veined alabaster, gigantic columns rise like petrified papyrus stalks toward a seemingly endless ceiling. A shimmering, translucent floor stretches beneath my feet, revealing a cosmic abyss roiling with stars.
The air hums with silent judgment, heavy with incense that smells of lotus and myrrh. The same scent we detected in the room where Aleiraah was taken from.
Azael, seemingly the most informed, briefs us quickly.
At the far end of the hall rests the Scales of Ma’at, wide as a ship’s deck and suspended in the air by nothing visible. One pan holds the feather of truth, impossibly light, gleaming like crystal. The other probably awaits a deceased soul's heart.
Osiris presides on a golden throne with eyes like mirrors. On his right sits Aset, his consort, looking regal. And on his left prowls Ammit, the Devourer—part lion, part crocodile, part hippopotamus—who consumes the hearts of the unworthy.
“Is there a way to bypass this judgement chamber to get to Aleiraah?” Ifrinn whispers.
“Don’t think so, I don't see any exists.” Archie's voice fades upon hearing a low growl. Ammit, the chimera has spotted us.
The menacing growl makes our hackles rise.
Osiris pins us with his gaze and I feel myself stiffen. “Who goes there?” His voice carries across the hall as if he's standing right next to me.
The throng of deceased souls––grey and washed out––gathered up front, also turn their heads at us, curious. With no way to conceal ourselves, we advance.
“Undead mortals in my presence?” Osiris cocks an eyebrow, stroking his long pointy beard.
Azael offers a polite nod and we all follow suit. He’s the most well-versed in dealing with gods afterall.
“We come in peace, great Osiris. I’m Azael Duskwing, mated to Aleiraah Silvraeth, the succubus who’s currently a....guest of your son Anubis.”
“I sense a question there.” The sarcasm is evident in Osiri’s tone as he looks down at us from his lofty throne.
Azael had cleverly taken a shot in the dark but given Osiris’s reaction so far, it’s fair to say he wasn’t the one who took Aleiraah.
“No. I apologize for any misunderstanding.” Azael tries to appear humble.
Like a shark pretending to be a herbivore.
“Along with me are Aleiraah’s other six mates.
We’ve reason to believe Anubis helped her leave Mytherra and has made her stay here.
We’d like an audience with him. We’re here to bring Aleiraah back home. ”
“I’ve heard about you quite a bit over the centuries. Pity, your mortal self is so underwhelming.” Osiris smirks, totally ignoring the part about his son abducting our mate. He surveys us with disdain and I have to curb the urge to slice the smirk off his green face.
There’s a sudden drop in temperature, and Azael clenches his jaw. This god no doubt will be a nuisance like Ra. Typical posturing is not just limited to supernaturals. Gods are fallible too it seems.
“Our appearances could not be helped. The journey through Duat has not been exactly...favorable.”
I notice the stars dimming beneath my feet on the floor.
Shit! Don’t antagonize the Underworld, Azael!
“Darling, I’m sure Duat has her reasons behind turning them mortal.” Aset intervenes smoothly, patting Osiris’s hand, then pins us with a curious gaze. “You all must be tired. But the Hall of Truth is no place for living mortals. I’m surprised that you ended up here.”
“I am as well, Habibti! But I want to know what my son has gotten up to now! Who’s this succubus he’s harboring? Thoth, call him right away!” Osiris barks at another god standing by the scale, with the head of an ibis and body of a human.
“Calm down, darling. We need to work on your anger management issues.” Aset says soothingly. “She must be a friend of Anubis if she’s residing here.”
“There’s no order left in this realm anymore! People are coming and going as they please. That boy does whatever he pleases, and I have to deal with his mess later on.” Osiris turns a darker shade of green.
“Darling, we talked about this. Anubis is grown up now, you can’t treat him like a child. I’m disappointed by your behavior. If you haven't learned your lesson from last time, I might just have to go on another traveling spree.” Aset sniffs delicately.
Unsure what this last time entailed, I watch in fascination as Osiris changes right before my eyes into an obsequious, horny fool.
“Absolutely not Habibti! You can’t leave me again for such prolonged periods!
I’ll go mad without your scent in my veins!
You’re the fire in my blood, I’m but ashes without you.
The Nile doesn’t flow right in your absence.
” Osiris waxes poetically. Taking Aset’s hand, he presses his nose to her knuckles and sniffs deeply.
To make matters worse, he starts placing frantic kisses up along her arm.
I notice Archie and Alistair gag in my periphery. Ifrinn, Baz and Silas have their mouths hanging open. Azael remains unperturbed and I cannot help but cringe. It’s akin to watching elderly people making out passionately at a funeral––with the dead softly snickering.
Aset appears to be wearing her ‘resting-bitch-face’ as Aleiraah would call it, not giving in.
Thinking of my Aleiraah makes my chest ache with yearning. I wonder how much longer until I see her. It’s only been a few days, but feels like eons.
“Mmhmm,” Aset hums, cool and calm.
“Promise me you’ll stay, Aset! Promise me!” The kisses grow even more frantic. Can’t imagine how she puts up with this old coot on a daily basis.
“Will you behave?” Aset asks unmoved.
“Yes, yes. Anything! Come, I must worship you now, Habibti!” Osiris pleads in a sycophantic voice.
Aset finally turns her head to look at him. “You must finish today’s judgments first.”
“But it’s been ten whole judgments since I smelled your skin!” Osiris whines.
“And you have thirty-two more to go.” She reminds him by raising a thin eyebrow.
Osiris seems to come to the same conclusion––no slacking on the job, and turns to us with a sneer.
“Why should I let you meet my son? Maybe this succubus, Aleiraah, left you for a good reason.”
“We come bearing gifts, mighty Osiris, and benevolent Aset.” Baz chimes in for the first time, masking Archie’s growl. He whips out the iridescent golden apple from his satchel. It’s comforting to have my blades back too.
“This apple is from the garden of an Olympus god. When eaten, it grants immortality. It could be a boon to those you look upon favorably?”
Osiris seems unimpressed but extends his hand nonetheless. Once Baz places the apple on his palm, he turns it this way and that, then tosses it to Ammit who snaps her jaws at the fruit and munches it in one go.
Perfectly good immortality-granting apple wasted on an immortal chimera! Fucking great!
Baz sidesteps the chimera who has creeped closer, maintaining a healthy distance. He takes out a golden chalice next. “The ‘Chalice of Time’. Drinking from this cup halts time around the bearer for several heartbeats.”
Aset observes it critically and says, “Darling, isn’t that what you gifted me to prolong our time together, when you were courting me? Ra was always in a hurry to make the sun rise and you always wanted the nights to last.”
“Why yes, Habibti! I believe it was lost during one of my skirmishes with that vexing Ra.” Osiris makes a grabbing motion and Baz offers it to him politely.
“We hope to change your mind and give us a chance to meet our mate. Seeing the love between you, it’s clear you won’t keep us from our beloved wife. ”
Too smooth, Baz. And they call me the charmer.
“Hold your horses! Ammit got the apple, Aset has the chalice, what about me? You have nothing else to offer?” Osiris grins like a shark, full of avarice.
“Of course, I was saving the best for the last. Here’s the ‘Heart of a Hollow Star’—a celestial object found by the first warden of the Underworld with the help of a dying dragon.
It allows the wielder to recall a soul from the Underworld.
I’m certain this would be of good use to you, to prevent any unordained recalls. ”
“Perhaps you should give that to Archer, Bazrosh. I’m sure he would love to resurrect his true mate, Belle. The love of his life.” A clear mocking voice rings through the hall.
My breath stalls as Aleiraah steps out of the shadows, flanked by a god with a jackal’s head and a man’s body—Anubis.
Time seems to splinter as my gaze locks on Aleiraah.
She is almost painful to behold—her sun-warmed skin is radiant.
Aquamarine eyes burning brighter than I remember, and her red hair falls in loose waves like a cascade of rubies.
A cream sheath dress molds to her curves.
Yet, her beauty is eclipsed by the look on her face––detached, cold, as if we’re strangers.
My stomach knots with the awful foreboding that we’ve arrived too late.
Aleiraah
Anubis elbows me gently and clears his throat.
“Father, Mother, this is my dear friend, Aleiraah. Her mother, Ilzara Silvraeth, was a close friend who passed away before her time. Mom, surely you remember her?” Though trying to smooth over my less-than-stellar entry, he slips up and calls Aset 'Mom' in front of the dead.
Judging by Osiris's expression, Anubis is going to get an earful later.
The moment I saw my husbands trying to look solemn and contrite, I knew it was an act. They were offering shiny treasures—no doubt from Baz’s hoard—and calling me ‘beloved’ as if it weren’t a joke. I couldn’t help but tear their little performance apart.
When Anubis said the toads have turned mortal, I expected them to seem…
diminished. I was wrong. They look human—if humans were carved from solid muscle—but their rakish looks and the air of danger about them still shine through the blood and bruises.
What truly puts me on edge is the hunger in their gaze.
Wisps of lust curl toward me, thickening the air with desire.
I force my focus onto their injuries instead, grounding myself.
I need a clear head. It’s been a while since I last fed on carnal essence.
Strangely, I haven't felt the urge to consume lust lately.
“Yes, sweetheart. Ilzara had such a charming personality.” Aset turns toward me, eyes gentle. “And you look so much like her, Aleiraah.”
“Thank you, goddess Aset. My apologies for barging in unannounced, god Osiris.” I incline my head politely.
“Your son, god Anubis has been nothing but kind to me in the past couple of months. Again, thank you, for letting me stay here in Duat. I appreciate your hospitality and generosity.” I finish demurely but Ammit––the sneak that she is––nudges my hip with her snout as if saying,‘You’re over doing it! ’
The seven toads stiffen, warily watching Ammit, then take a step toward me. I sift my hand through Ammit's leonine mane and she purrs immediately, making them halt with varied degrees of shock on their faces.
“Yes, yes, all that is fine.” Osiris flicks his wrist watching my interaction with Ammit’s closely. “But who's this true mate you mentioned? Are you not their mate?”
Then he gleefully whispers in Aset's ear, without waiting for my response. “I smell a titillating gossip here, Habibti! What do you say we postpone the rest of the mortal judgements for today?”
Aset raises a thin eyebrow and gives a slight nod. The god with the Ibis’s head who’d come in search of Anubis earlier, leads the dead away.
“No, apparently I’m not.” I reply gravely and the hall breaks out into a series of growls.