Uab Bak Am Neteru

Disclaimer: See my bio




Disclaimer:
See my bio. But
I don¡¯t own any of the stuff here.

Summary: A fanfic challenge of spiderweb.
Malik is the adopted son of a priest, vowed not to have anything to do with
sexual affairs.. Ryou is a seductive demon searching for an innocent prey to
corrupt.. Well, let¡¯s say the inevitable happens. First Ancient Egyptian
setting, then moves onto Post Battle City.

Rating: R for sexual content and
violence in later chapters.

Pairing: Ryou x Malik [Seme x Uke]

Category: Romance/General

 

 

---

Uab
Ba-k Am Neteru

By.
Firemoon

---

Chapter
2: The Taking of the Vow

 

 

 

 

The sun
Ra was nearly down beyond the horizon, ready to be swallowed by Nut and reborn
again next morning, with all his brilliance returned. The sky was stained
brightly, a mix of red, orange, yellow and gold. On the opposite side of the
sun, the night was already invading the sky, and few stars, Ra¡¯s children, was
already out, winking innocently and wisely to the mortals below.

 

Ptahotep
started packing all the fishing equipments away, swiftly coiling the fishing
line around the slender, willowy fishing rods. The fish caught today – all good
fat ones that would do nicely for tonight¡¯s dinner - were threaded nea
al
already gutted and scaled taken off by the nimble hands of the priest-scribe.

 

Beside
him a boy of about 13 stood silently, silently observing the priest working and
often offering to help, putting away the baits and later carrying the rods in
his arms as they walked back to the temples. His sgoldgolden curls swayed
around his face, and softly brushing against his bare shoulders. A simple
golden amulet charm of Horus¡¯ eye was hung around his slender neck, and he also
wore the loincloth of apprentice priests, dyed a sandy golden colour. Something
that hadn¡¯t been seen for decades in the Temples.. until Setnakht came along
one night.

 

---

 

After
storing the fishing equipments safely in Ptahotep¡¯s quarters, the dark skinned
priest took Setnakht towards the boy¡¯s own quarters and made him get changed to
a clean loincloth, out of the one that was stained with water and mud. Then
Ptahotep ushered the golden brown haired boy out to the courtyard, and started
marching brusquely up to the other side of the Temples. The boy nearly had to
jog to keep up with the tall, dark skinned priest. The boy finally got the
older man to slow down, and Setnakht asked nervously; it wasn¡¯t every day that
you wear one of your best linen loincloth and go deeper into the Temples where
the main gods and goddesses of the Two Lands stayed.

 

¡°Where
are we going, Tep?¡±

 

The
dusky lavender eyed priest in training asked anxiously, the eyes looking
unnaturally wide with barely concealed nervousness. Ptahotep smiled down at
Setnakht, gently taking his hand. The boy was only thirteen summers old, and
already the golden brown haired boy had the attributes of a priest, loving to
learn and worship the gods. All these long years within the Temples, the dark
skinned priest had not heard the boy utter a single complaint.

 

The
lavender eyed boy was the youngest in among the priests in the Temples by well
over 10 years. Everybody loved him, treating the young priest in training as
each one of them¡¯s younger brother, a son, a nephew. But even with all the
fawning upon-s, Setnakht had grown up to be a fine, reserved boy, not like the
boys own own age running rampage around the town down below, last time he
heard.

 

The boy
nervously tugged on the tightly knotted sash of his sand golden loincloth.
Ptahotep took the boy¡¯s fidgeting hand in his own, and the golden brown haired
boy looked up, voice, despite his nervousness, - or because of it – soft.

 

¡°The
sunset is beautiful this evening.¡±

 

His
dusky amethyst eyes stained orange as the red golden rays of the setting sun
reflected in his eyes. His golden hair, similar to his eyes, was also shimmering
curls of red-orange. Ptahotep spoke up, his earrings jingling slightly as he
turned his head towards the young priest in training.

 

¡°We¡¯re
going to the Temple of Ma¡¯at, Setnakht.¡±

¡°To the
Truth goddess?¡±

 

Setnakht¡¯s
voice rose to an ungraceful and out of character squeak, but the dark skinned
priest understood; the Truth goddess¡¯ temple was not a very comfortable place
to be in, Rather, it was too.. unnerving. Of course, it was the duty of mortal
kind to hold the law of Ma¡¯at high, to always preserve the Truth and Justice,
but the human nature, always born slightly corrupted, would not allow itself to
be collected and calm in the presence of the pure essence of Truth and Justice,
however the humankind may adore the two essential values. Ptahotep and Setnakht
started walking towards the limestone temple looming far away on the other side
of the great courtyard, the greenish blue eyed priest carefully explaining the
process of the Making of the Vow to the wide eyed priest in training.

 

¡°You are
to take your Vow as an official priest in training of the Temples of Karnak.¡±

¡°Vow?¡±

¡°We, the
priests of Karnak, always take this Vow when we turn 13, which you have turned
only last week. And no, we don¡¯t shave off our hairs yet.¡±

 

Ptahotep
grinned down at the small worried face of the little one below.

 

¡°We take
another Vow at the age of 17, and that¡¯s when we cut off our hair and shave the
rest off.¡±

¡°Hm..¡±

 

There
was a short silence while the two slowly walked towards the Temple of Ma¡¯at,
the river Nile glittering like a mass of broken shards of glass in between the
numerous temples. Setnakht looked up, the violet eyes still holding
nervousness.

 

¡°Tep?¡±

¡°Yes,
Little one?¡±

¡°Do I have
to get the tattoo?¡±

 

Ptahotep
mused silently, a finger making a twirling motion, tracing an imaginary lines
and curves on the golden brown haired boy¡¯s left cheek where the tattoo would
be after this night, identical to his own. He soothed the boy¡¯s nerves with his
calm, gentle voice.

 

¡°It is
the symbol of your devotion and love for gods, your faith in the Eternal
Beings, Setnakht. We all feel proud of the tattoo, and we felt the same when we
got them.¡±

 

Setnakht
sighed, the golden curls slipping from the confinements of a thin leather cord
around the boy¡¯s head. When he spoke again, his voice was soft and gentle, as
usual. But there was a certain amount of fierceness in it.

 

¡°I know,
Tep. I love the gods. I love the Temples, I love all the people in here. I want
to be a priest, spending the rest of my life in here, among the gods and serving
them, until I finally go to the Hall of the King of the Dead, but...¡±

 

The boy¡¯s
voice trailed down to a mere nothing, and a sudden wind gushed, making their loincloths,
the dark skinned priest¡¯s leopard skin and Setnakht¡¯s golden brown curls whip
around madly. Ptahotep looked down worriedly at the boy, walking silently with
eyes downcast. If the boy refuses to take the tattoo, he would be banished from
the Temples, and possibly from Karnak, doomed for eternity..

 

¡°Tep?¡±

 

The dark
skinned priest-scribe started, and looked down, his greenish blue eyes blinking
confusedly, almost like an owl. Setnakht smiled, a serene, gentle smile of a
person who is with the Gods and at peace, and silently held out a lightly
tanned hand for the priest to take. Ptahotep then realized how tall the boy had
grown; now he nearly reached the priest¡¯s shoulder, and he was considered
rather tall. Setnakht said softly, eyes drifting dreamily over to the drowsy
Nile.

 

¡°I¡¯m
ready.¡±

 

---

 

Setnakht
was taken to the Grooming Chambers, and there he was washed, oiled, perfumed, dressed,
and ornamented with simple armbands and necklaces and also with instruments
needed for the ritual. The boy was still quite tense, but the scented oil had
taken away a part of the nervous tension, and now Setnakht found himself
getting drowsy as he looked around at the flickering mass of candles. But he
had to stay awake. He must.

 

Setnakht
shook his head a few times to clear his fuzzy vision, the loopy earrings
sending cold shivers against his skin that made him shudder. But soon, the pair
of the golden shiny metal loops were warmed by the head from his body, and
Setnakht sighed as his mind again tried to fall back to the oblivion of dreams,
the messenger of gods, the representative of hidden thoughts, the mirror of
emotions.

 

But they
were instantly banished as he was led out by the arm into the pale pink
limestone hall of the goddess Ma¡¯at. The priests made him kneel in front of the
image of the goddess of truth, carved delicately into the wall. The cold, freezing
stone beneath him was enough to wake him up as was the holy, invisible presence
of the Ethereal Being who was gazing down mysteriously with her onyx black eyes
at him.

 

Setnakht
felt a cool, ghostly touches of the priest¡¯s hands on his shoulder as each one
of them slowly exited by the door, one by one, and the golden haired boy was
feeling quite a lot more reassured than before. But very sooner than he wished
to be, he was alone. The sweet, heady incense finally burnt out after a long
while, but it seemed to be very short for the golden haired priest in training.


 

The
candles flickered, and in Setnakht¡¯s eyes, the goddess on the wall seemed to be
moving, beckoning softly at him with her winged, outstretched arms to come
closer. Setnakht stood up, wobbling slightly because of the previously cut off
blood circulation to his legs, but he managed to stand on his feet, though he
swayed slightly as if drunk. He staggered up closer to the goddess of Truth and
All Good.

 

His
dusky violet eyes were now tinted distinctively onyx black. Those eyes now
looked up, meeting the goddess¡¯ dark eyes, staring back at him from her place
in the stone wall, and his lips formed words and chants that he had never
learned before.

 

¡°I am
thy servant, Feather of Righteousness, goddess of Balance between Evil and
Good, Truth, and Justice.¡±

 

Slowly,
Setnakht¡¯s seemingly possessed form pressed his hands on the cool stone,
against the outstretched hands of the goddess, his left cheek pressed into her
face. His lithe form fitted right into the slender, fragile form of Ma¡¯at. His
golden eyelashes fluttered as he closed them, his body so still so that the
priest in training did not even seem to be breathing. The flames of the candles
flickered again by an unknown wind from somewhere deep inside the temple, and
one of them went out this time with a strand of pale smoke, barely visible.

 

Then ,
Setnakht detached himself from the goddess¡¯ image with a gasp, breath being
sucked in with great heave. He tentatively trailed his finger onto the coiling
marks that was the mark of priests and priests in training of Karnak, painfully
blood red against his tanned light mocha skin. He fell to kneeknees as the
invisible power of the goddess again overtook him, and he blindly chanted,
barely audible, the Vow of the priests of Karnak passing through his mind like
hissing arrows, each word deeply embedding itself into Setnakht¡¯s mind and ba.[1]
Setnakht, still chanting the breathy words, grabbed for the dagger already
being heated over the little fire, his movements seemingly unconscious and
sluggish. The blade was white hot, but fortunately, a thick cover of leather
protected the handle, so the holder¡¯s hand was not burnt.

 

Raising
the white hot blade to his left cheek, Setnakht carved the flesh there, expertly
tattooing the smooth skin. His eyes were unblinking, blank and clouded dark
murky violet. He did not make a sound even as the hot metal scorched into his
skin, bursting the flesh, the tip digging flawlessly into the exact same coils
and curves that the blood red lines had made previously.

 

Soon,
the blood was silently but relentlessly dribbling from the opened gashes, just
a horrible, coiling mass of lines. Setnakht then dropped the dagger carelessly
into the bowl of water beside the fire where the dagger had been heated on. The
metal made hissing and sizzling noises as it sank into the depths of tool ool
water in the earthenware bowl.

 

Setnakht
then staggered up, and the wide, dusky lavender eyes met the dark, brooding
gaze of the goddess, who was silently observing the priest in training from her
place in the wall. His cleared eyes closed, and he slid to the floor with a
faint whimper, theringring pain finally awakening and ramming into his whole
body. The flames flickered over his unconscious form.

 

 

---

[1] Ba is a spiritual term that
can be closely [but not quite] translated to the soul of a person. Another word
to imply this is ka but I generally think of this as a kind of aurora of
someone¡¯s spirit, so ba suited better here.

 

Yours
Faithfully Fanfictional,

Firemoon