Masika Aarahm

Masika couldn't feel the blackened, crimson gravel biting into her feet. She felt lighter than ever – lighter than when she danced and lighter than when she was happy.

She felt powerful. More importantly, Masika was fuelled by some sort of warmth inside her veins that made her believe that she was unstoppable. Her determination and her fierceness were no match for the demons that lurked or the temptations that attempted to lure her away.

However, as her mundane breaths became rapid her pace slowed to a slight walk. The air clung to her skin in an uncomfortable layer but she kept pushing forward – knowing that someone would have to make it to the end and save Ra. Nut had put faith in her and Masika had faith in herself. Yet, she was reminded of how small she was.

It is rather lonely, Masika thought to herself as she gazed at the endless flat of ground, Is this what the Gods feel?

She tried to imagine – just for a singular moment – being a God. She could feel the breeze high up in the sky as she sat on calm white clouds whose wisps of white curled and uncurled around her body. She could see the humans running on the coarse yellow ground as they collected heavy buckets of water and hauled carts of sandstone and mud from the banks. But she forced herself to stay in the clouds. There wasn't a whisper of life where she sat; just clear azure encompassing her vision and the clouds gently waving in the breeze. Of course, it was beautiful. Masika had never experienced something as delicate as the clouds. But she longed for someone to be with her – company.

Is this why you wish for us to worship you? Masika wandered as she stared down.

Masika was suddenly thrust back into the Underworld. Without realising, her feet had led her to another building. Although, it wasn't a building rather it was an arrangement of grey stones that appeared as though it was a tunnel or hall. As she looked closer, distinct patterns emerged from the grey. Chiselled white marks stained the stone like an animal had brought a thousand claws to scrape across the wall. Cautiously, Masika traced one. The powder of the stone stained her finger black but as she felt each grain in the stone she could hear the awful scraping sound that would have happened. She could imagine an iron nail scraping across another metal or even fingernails across a metal. Involuntarily, Masika hunched her shoulders in displeasure as she shook the sounds from her mind.

Suddenly, a noise from up ahead echoed down the corridor. Her heart was thudding in her chest making her bones vibrate but, ignoring the fear, she went forward. She recalled the stories of the Underworld. Although the details weren't exact, she remembered the Hall of Two Truths that the dead's souls must pass through.

Usually, Masika might have said a quick prayer to Nut – to protect her or save her – but power still burned inside of her. She could barely feel the presence of Nut behind her hiding away her pain.

"You are so small that you barely make a sound, child," a booming voice echoed as she came closer. Masika felt the darkness disappear and it became slightly brighter as she emerged into a small room with only three objects – a set of scales with a feather on one end, a square of stone and a throne of stone in which Anubis himself lazed upon, "Do you present any gifts?"

"No, sir." Masika felt obliged to bow under his harsh stare and directed her eyes to the ground. One glimpse was enough for her to memorize the hound's head – sharp teeth with saliva dripping from its canines. Shadowy eyes that somehow glowed yellow at the same time.

Masika tried to remember something else about the Hall but her mind was faltering, How would he take my heart out? Won't I die?

"Come," Anubis interrupted her thoughts, "Sit on the rock facing the entrance. Don't mind Ammit, she won't devour you...yet."

Masika glanced at Ammit cautiously. A crocodiles head snapped its teeth as she passed by and a dominating lioness body wriggling with excitement. She walked forward, pocketing her fear, and sat on the rock with her back to the scales. Anxiety burned holes in her stomach as she sat but she remembered her dance in the House of Rest and knew she couldn't let anything control her. She had just as much power as the Gods. Humans were capable of building pyramids and, now, saving a God by going through the Underworld.

She heard his footsteps thundering behind her yet they were delicately soft at the same time. Each movement shook the stone she sat on until she finally felt its breath on the back of her neck. She swallowed down a scream with a huge gulp. Inhaling and exhaling. She desperately tried to forget the smell of its breath – rotten meat and sulphur and something else that could only be described as death.

Behind her, he breathed in. His strong gasps moved strands of her dark sepia hair. All the while, Masika was trembling in front of him as she stared ahead at the exit. There would be other ways around but it would take more time. And then, she felt it. Heat spreading across her back but it wasn't heat, it was light touching and kissing her skin gently until her heart – a mixture of oozing red and gold – moved from her back. She felt breathless and light, her vision began to blur and un-blur as her eyes lolled.

Be brave, she was tempted to call out for Nut – part of her did unwillingly – but Nut heard the small voice she knew, Don't stop him, just help me through it.

Masika could not see the scales behind her nor the God of Death himself she could only feel what her body felt. She could not hear anything but the absence of her heart beat as she gasped like a fish out of water. Maybe if she put her hands on her chest, she could feel the hollow where her heart had been but her hands stayed glued to her head – frozen in place. She was a statue.

Meanwhile, with the heart hovering above his palm, Anubis moved towards the scale. Its blackened trays were stained with the red blood of the heart and Masika's was just another heart to weigh. Of course, he knew why she was here. Another had already tried to get past but it seemed that the living had more sin than the dead – not that the man was alive anymore. He glanced at the crocodile licking its lip thoughtfully. He could hear the poor girl behind him shivering with uncontrollable vibrations. It was beginning to become annoying. For once, he wasn't sure what her heart would weigh. It was heavy but light at the same time.

He placed it on the scale.

Masika heard the gentle squeak of metal creak behind her. Anxiety had once again balled itself up in her stomach as she waited for the results. She had made it through the fire with little pain but would her heart be light? She wasn't sure. Part of her wanted to believe it was but she could never be sure. She didn't want to make her expectations wrong like so many people seemed to do. Faith was a funny thing in her world. People placed it readily in the Gods without realising they had just as much power. People also placed it in their families. But such a sacred currency it was. Faith gave power and with power came surrender of a sort. It was power that came with loneliness. Masika couldn't even begin to fathom the aspects it could have. The scales creaked again. She didn't want to put her faith in something that was wrong. She had already believed that the Gods were something that they were not.

Anubis grinned at the scales with pure malice and slight confusion. He took the heart from the scale allowing it to creak back into place with an ear-piercing sound that cut through the silence like a knife. He silently slipped back until he was behind the girl allowing the bloodied heart to hover in his palm. She would not know the answer – only he would. He stared at it for a moment. It was like nothing he had seen before. A slight of gold ran through it and warmth radiated in his palm. It would have been thundering if she was nervous but instead it was calming beating like a heart should – in the beat with its own rhythmic music.

Masika felt the heat on her back again. Her breathing suddenly slowed and her body felt whole again. Now, she could feel the blood running through her body and she could feel her heart beating in her chest ever so softly. She quickly turned around to face Anubis, her eyes staring him down and searching for an answer.

"You may leave," his thundering voice suddenly said and he returned to his throne, "If you do not do so quickly, then I'm sure this spirit, "he gestured to Ammit, "would be more than happy to consume you."

Masika was almost in a state of disbelief. Her heart was light enough. She smiled slightly and slipped her body off the rock, unsure of where to go. But she felt Nut beside her and, then, her voice, "The place you go cannot be found unless you know where to seek it,"

The voice no longer held power over her rather it was comforting and almost human-like. She nodded her head slightly to herself.

Paradise, Masika smiled. She knew what she must seek, But paradise will be lonely.

Anubis watched on with nothing but a sly smile on his lips. His tongue licked his snout thoughtfully as he watched her walk towards the stone that beared white marks where his claws had desperately attempted to cut through. He longed for someone's company too. Masika was right when she had thought having power was lonely. No one liked him but, in his mind, he could imagine her dancer's feet twirling delicately around the floor. He was going to help her further but knew better of it – his reputation must be maintained. Instead, he watched her disappear into the stone. She faded away like a ghost. Masika may not have known where she was going, or maybe she did, and that's what made her power different from the rest.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nour Tahir

Nour did not wish to have his heart eaten, but then, the other option was far too terrifying for the old servant to bear.

He was beginning to wish he hadn't accepted Shu's command - but that was his job, was it not? To follow the orders of others, to do as his betters wished?

He could only hope that he had done well enough to survive the judgement of Ammit.

He entered the hall with trepidation, his feet falling like lead. Two figures stood at the end, one tall and lithe, the other short and panting, dripping with drool, waiting to devour his heart.

"Nour Tahir," called the taller - the jackal-head of Anubis turned to him as he spoke. "Your judgement awaits."

His heart seemed to grow heavier as he approached the pair - was this a prediction? Would his heart sink to the floor next to the Feather of Truth, low enough to be snapped up by the crocodile-headed demon Ammit?

"Shh, girl," he heard Anubis mutter as Ammit whimpered. "We will know soon enough."

Nour stood in front of them, unprepared for his judgement, praying that he had done well. He had survived the flames of the lake of judgement, had he not? He had overcome his own gluttony in the hall of Ra, had he not? Had he not dedicated himself to serving Pharaoh, to serving others? Surely that was enough to let him pass.

Still, still. . . he could still remember his feast in the fall, could still feel where his mouth and hands had been burned by his own bad choices by the lake of fire that had shown him his own faults, ones that even he did not recognize, and he was certain there were more.

"May I?" Anubis asked, his hand hovering over Nour's chest.

As soon as he nodded, Anubis's hand plunged inside to rip out his heart.

It hurt more than he had expected it to, but once the heart was out, the searing pain seemed to stop as Nour's body froze itself in time, waiting for the heart to be returned to its proper place or for it - and Nour - to disappear forever down the throat of Ammit. Time seemed to slow as Anubis conjured with a wave of his hand the searing light of the Feather of Truth.

It glowed, strangely, pure white light almost burning Nour's eyes. He could not look away, though, from the bright, honest Truth, even when Anubis placed it reverently on the scales at the front of the room, where it barely made a dent in the weight.

It was light with goodness.

Nour's heart was placed beside it, and the scale dipped.

Time stopped - no longer was it pacing by slower than death. It had frozen completely - even the drool that had dipped from the she-demon's mouth was suspended in the air. Only the scale moved as the heart and the feather bounced up and down together, dipping above and below, finally coming to rest in the center.

Anubis spoke, and the spell was broken.

"Your mortal eyes would not see a difference, Nour Tahir, but you have been truly lucky - or seen the error of your ways. There is but a fraction between your life and death now. It comes from your repentance, but also your pride. You do not wish to admit that you have done wrong, do you?"

Nour was surprised to find himself able to speak, despite his dry mouth and shaking hands. Still, he bowe, and his tongue flowed reverently. "My lord Anubis, I do regret some of my actions, but I do find that many of us mere mortals are blind to our own errors, and I am one of them. I thank thee, though, for the chance to live one more minute, my lord, and I thank Ra."

Anubis smiled as he lifted the heart again, meeting Nour's eyes with pupils blacker than the night. "It was not my favor that let you live, Nour Tahir. Had it been my way, your heart would be somewhere far darker than here. My little Ammit grows hungry. Perhaps the next time we see you, she will find herself a meal," he hissed as he plunged the heart back in with such ferocity that Nour gasped, taken aback. Anubis did not care - he turned to Ammit, stroking her scaly head with one hand. "Come, my little darling. We will find our own way now."

Nour was happy that he had not seen that before the weighing, for surely thinking things against the gods would have been the deepest sin.

Still, he was beginning to find that not all gods were as kind as his.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ife Lerato

I was a mother once, and I wished to give my child the world...

For as long as she can remember, Ife Lerato has been terrified of judgment. When she first knew she was with child, her first thought was not for her health, but what her mother would say. What her father would say. Even now, though she is forty-seven and her father has been dead for years, she hears his voice before every decision. Never let me down, girl. His voice is low and gravelly as it was near his death, but as full of emotion as when she was no more than a child. She has only disappointed him once – instinctively, her hand reaches for her stomach – but she will never do it again.

For as long as she can remember, Ife Lerato has been terrified of judgment – but demons frighten her even more. So she drags one foot at a time towards the Hall of Two Truths. A white door stands before her, a black one just to its left. The tiniest of fissures separates them, not even big enough for a finger to fit. Is that the amount of room there is for grey in Ammit's world? she wonders. If it is, she is doomed; the Lake of Fire made that abundantly clear.

"Amisi, do you think we'll be fine?" she asks, but the girl with wild eyes and midnight is nowhere to be found. Clearly, she doesn't. But it's too late now. Ife Lerato stands alone, waiting to face her judgment.

Not alone, Ife.

My apologies, my Lady. I'm having even more trouble feeling your presence. Shouldn't it grow easier as we near your husband's realm?

There are strange forces at hand, my child. Any rule of logic will not apply here.

I hope they will be cleared soon, then. Your advice is always vital.

She waits a moment, breathes, and places her hand on the white door. Ife pushes and watches as the door glides open without so much as a sound. Torches light the hallway before her. She follows it, her breaths growing shallower and heavier with each step. Drawings at the wall show the hippopotamus himself, along with Ma'at, her divine feather, and a scale. There is no time to examine them, but that does not matter – she has seen them many a times before in the funeral halls of temples. The last time she laid eyes on such a painted scene was at her father's embalmment, but she remembers it all too well. May Ma'at find his heart worthy, she had thought. But she had never been foolish enough to believe such a hope. Most hearts, after all, were far from worthy, and her father had been a saint by no one's standards.

The light blinds her as it grows to reveal the scene she had seen so many times before, but none of the sketches had done it justice. No artist could have shown the glory of Ma'at, no sculptor the horror of Ammit. He had been described as a hippopotamus, and that had not been wrong per se, but is far more to him than that. His teeth, for one, jut down in the same way as a lion might. His eyes glint with the malicious intelligence of a feral cat.

Ma'at smiles at her; warmth fills Ife's body. "Good morning," she says. "I must say that this is quite a special circumstance: normally, when we weigh a person's heart, they're dead."

"Am I not?" asks Ife. "It surely feels as though I am, though I know better than to think it. I can guarantee you, this is quite as strange for me as it is for you, if not more so."

"You would be surprised, child. The gods feel in ways that mere mortals can but guess at in their writings – and even then they only come halfway to the truth, if that."

Ife nods. "Do you know why the other gods cannot come here?"

"Truth is everywhere. Disappointed?"

She looks down. "It's an honour to face you – but I must admit that I wish I could avoid your judgment."

"Honesty," says Ma'at. "One of the best qualities a person could have. And humility, as well, if you would so undervalue your virtues. Are you frightened, Ife?"

"Yes," she replies, "but not due to my own faults, numerous though they may be. In the river of night..." – Mothers pay for the sins of their children, Ife Lerato – "I was told that the sins of my son would reflect on my own."

Ma'at nods. "On your soul, yes, but not on your heart; that can be stained by nobody's actions but your own." She pauses. "Were you concerned about Atem or Hotep? Neither one has been a particular troublemaker, though I suppose the eldest has been difficult as of late."

"Neither. I mean my son. The one I birthed."

"You birthed a child, yes, but you raised two sons. Life is not always what you think it might be, Ife Lerato. Now, are you ready for judgment?"

Ife nods and watches as her heart appears on the left scale, the feather on the right. She sees the scales shift for a moment and then attempt to stabilize themselves. Her heart races as they shake, but calms as she sees that they remain level despite their oscillation. Ma'at smiles. I am worthy.

"You would have given your child the world, Ife Lerato. Do not shy away from taking it when it is granted. After all," she pauses, "you never know when you may see me the next time."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Angelus Karthai

A split in the road, a choice to be made. A choice, when made wrong, could be devastating. Two paths, each lead to a seemingly cursed end. Yet Angelus knew one path was the right one for him.

However, as the choices loom over his head, Angelus found himself in a state of panic. Either it was to have his heart weighed against the Feather of Truth for his sins, which he was almost certain he would be turned to black sand within seconds; or it was to try and brave the Demon Lands, where he was almost certain he would be devoured by malicious souls within his first few steps.

On one hand was a devilish land of the violent, deranged dead, filled with gore and guts and a horrible stench to top it off. On the other was a gloomy hall of death and murder, perhaps the classier option, but no less deadly by any means.

Angelus could do nothing but to ask himself brutally.

What do I do?

He had never felt so lost, not even when he lived on the streets. Not even when he heard their apology. Their apology that was their goodbye.

"We're so sorry Angelus..."

With that, Angelus had found a wooden door to his face. He clutched his rucksack tighter to his chest, tears running down his cheeks. His normally shimmering grey eyes dim with hurt, his usually wildly passionate heart felt numb.

Over the years, Angelus learnt to be cold. He learnt everything about life the hard way. He hardened himself as to not be pushed around, even as a young boy he rarely showed any sort of emotion. Emotion was weakness out on the streets, and weakness meant you were dead.

Even back then, there were things Angelus could do for himself. Looking at where he was then, Angelus couldn't help but wish for his old life. He may have lived on the streets, he may have slept night after night on cold hard grounds. Yet he wasn't lost, he didn't feel completely helpless. He did here as he made his decision... Angelus felt like he was trapped in a box of black, all sense of logic and direction lost. He could feel his mind slowly slipping from his grasp.

What the hell, I'm never gonna live through this anyways.

He couldn't let himself completely lose his mind and obsess over this decision. Instead, Angelus told himself to just pick one, who cared anyways? It was better than losing hold of himself before he was even threatened by the black silky wings of death themselves.

His quiet footsteps for all he heard as he made his way down his chosen path. Doubt clouding his senses, he wanted to retract his steps, ponder his decision even more. But he knew if he did that, he would have died before he could even have his heart weighed. Instead, he trudged forwards toward the Hall of Two Truths.

"Well, well, well, look at who we have here!"

A jackal head complete with black beady eyes accompanied the voice. Anubis.

Seeing him in person, Angelus couldn't help but feel all of his doubts and fears crashing back against him, almost crushing him under the pressure. Yet, the decision had been made. There was no turning back, no Plan B. This was it, whether he lived it or not, this was his decision. Angelus could only hope he chose right.

As long as you have the courage, neither is the wrong choice. It is only when you do not truly believe in you decision will you fall short of greatness.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ramia Gamal

Peace was a beautiful notion in the mind of Ramia Gamal. It was a warm breeze along the cold stones of a temple and the thin skin of a grape bursting underneath the press of her teeth. It was the feeling of laughter in her chest and stiff braids being woven into her hair, close to the scalp to offer refuge from the harsh sun. Peace meant childhood-- it meant getting into mischief with others who held the same light of ferocity in their eyes. Long before Ramia had set foot into the Hall of Two Truths, she had dreamed of peace.

When the group entered the Hall of Two Truths, Ramia was relieved to see that it was simple in comparison to the House of Rest. Although the ceiling towered high above them and the cavernous expanse of the entrance created an echo of footsteps as they walked inside, the walls were plain and bare. Torchlight illuminated the room from various places on the walls, the red and brown bricks used to design the Hall making it seem much smaller and enclosed than it was. At the end, the room branched off into two separate paths. There was nowhere to hide inside the Hall, nowhere to escape from. From the moment the doors swung shut behind them, Ramia could feel the gaze of Anubis watching them-- waiting for their approach.

Anubis was a god like no other. He stood several heads taller than any mortal man ever could. His skin was darker than ink, the head of a jackal sitting on his shoulders with black eyes that seemed to hold all the knowledge of the world inside. Adorned in gold and turquoise, Anubis stood, regal and proud, in front of a set of golden scales almost as tall as he. On one side, a pure white feather lay poised atop the scale, while the other waited empty. Even as they approached, Ramia could hear the muffled grunting and the slithering of scales coming from behind the god. Ammit, she thought, catching the barest glimpse of a snout and one yellow eye before the creature disappeared behind his master, the devourer of hearts.

"Step forward," the voice filled the room with all the strength of a hurricane and all the softness of a mother's whisper, "all those who wish to pass into Aaru. If your heart is pure, you will know nothing but pleasure in the land of the dead." Although his mouth never opened, Ramia could feel his words in her ears as if he spoke only to her. She stayed one step behind Ife, never moving fast enough to surpass her companion.

The older woman's face was quiet, her lips pursed into a line and eyes hard in determination. Is she nervous how her heart will weigh? Ramia wondered, watching her friend as they walked. Surely not-- she's a wet nurse to the Pharoah's children. What sins could she have committed?

Ramia looked up to where Anubis stood, looking down the two branches of the hall that he guarded. One was for those whose heart weighed less than a feather. For those few, the Field of Reeds waited, an earthlike paradise where one could live in peace forever. The other was for those who refused to be weighed-- a path that led through the land of demons. Ammit resurfaced once more, his long snout and sharpened teeth reminding Ramia of what happened to those who were less than pure.

"Who will be first?" The voice of Anubis called. The group slowed to a halt in front of him, the golden glint of the scales bright enough that Ramia could see her face reflected from the surface. Eyes glanced around the group, feet shuffling nervously as nobody dared to step forward. Her body tensed, arm reaching out ever so slightly in case Ife decided to step forward. At last, a man stepped from the crowd, his head bowed in respect as he grew closer to the god.

Ramia couldn't seem to pull her eyes away. As she watched, Anubis placed the tips of his fingers along the top of the man's chest. Nervousness fluttered in her own. A look of peace washed over his face, a glowing light blooming underneath his skin only to be retrieved into the gentle hands of the god. A light, brighter than the sun, was held inside of the hands of Anubis. The breath from her chest flooded the open air in a single exhale of awe. It was not a solid object, glowing brightly yet almost textured enough to mimic the look of feathers on a bird. With practiced hands, Anubis turned from the man to place his heart on the scale. The feather never wavered. Aaru, she thought as the great god gestured down the correct hallway for the man, peace forever.

The next was not so lucky. Another man, younger than the first. The moment his heart touched the scales, Ammit sprung into life. His great jaws snatched up the light, swallowing it down in a blur of fur and scales. Ramia didn't even see the man disappear, but his body was gone-- as well as his heart.

"Now you," spoke the voice of Anubis. Ramia looked up, a shiver pulling her body upright. The voice spoke only to her, yet she found herself unable to move. "Do you fear me, child?" he asked, with all the sternness of a paternal figure. "Or would you rather the company of demons to the pleasures of paradise? Step forward."

She did. The crowd parted as she walked forward to face the jackal-headed god. Fingers snatched for her wrist, trying to pull her backwards, but to no avail. It was only up close that she could truly see the colossal being that stood before her. With a wave of his hand, the growling demon with hungry eyes that waited so patiently behind him would have her in his jaws. She swallowed hard, yet her face was calm as Anubis began to speak once more.

"Ramia Gamal." Her eyes flickered to Ife at the sound of her name, but the older woman seemed oblivious to Anubis's words. A low and somber chuckle filled her ears. "Be still, child. I speak only to you. The gods have watched your journey with great enthusiasm, you hold Neith's pride on your shoulders." Ramia opened her mouth to speak, to hide the guilt that flickered in her chest, but the god left her with no time. "You hold yourself in her debt. She gave you all you desired when you had nothing. And yet--" Anubis reached out to her with his long fingers, black eyes shining like beads against the flickering of the torches. He pressed them against her chest, resting just below her collar. Warmth flooded through her body, a comforting feeling-- like being wrapped in a blanket during the cold of night. "Are you prepared to be judged?"

She was paralyzed, staring up at Anubis without expression. Ramia could see, if only for a moment, her life blossom before her eyes. There was a girl with no family to call her own, one who was welcomed into a temple with the blessing of Neith beside her. She could see a girl who prayed even as Roman soldiers invaded the temple she called her home, even while those she called her sisters screamed in agony as the fires took them, even when there was no answer to her prayers. She could see a girl who stood among the ashes, one who watered the ground with her weeping, one who ran into the desert because the goddess she adored allowed all that she had to be consumed by the demons of men's hearts. Ramia looked into the eyes of Anubis and saw that nothing had changed. She was still an angry, bitter child who didn't even know her real age, let alone whether or not her goddess would protect her.

Her chest stirred and immediately she stepped back. The warmth was pulled from her body in strings, leaving her shoulders trembling but her head unbowed. Ammit hissed impatiently, his tail thrashing back and forth. Ramia took another step back, watching as the great god lowered his hand back down to his side. I have sinned, Ramia wanted to say. You have seen the doubt in my heart. I betrayed my goddess once before. I abandoned her while my sisters burned. I know my place in the afterlife.

"No," was the word that she managed to force from her throat. "You cannot weigh my heart." Anubis watched her, his dark eyes missing nothing as he studied. Ammit took a single, grumbling step closer, his jaw opening in expectation, but the god settled him with a hand upon his head. He opened his great hand, extending it outwards to the other hallway, offering the path to her. I am a champion of Neith, she reminded herself as her heart began to flutter in her chest, the demons of the Underworld cower before me. The words didn't seem true.

"The Underworld is open to you, Ramia Gamal." Anubis's voice rang with disappointment. "Perhaps, in another life, you will see the mercy of my scales."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hotep Bonami

Roses are red,

Almost everyone is dead,

Violets are brown,

Egypt is upside down.

The Hall of Two Truths,

An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth,

Sins to send you to death,

Heavenly virtues for everlasting breath.

Hotep did not fear the scale,

His mind did not fill with ail,

He believed his heart would balance with the feather,

No matter the Egyptian weather.

When judgement had arrived,

Hotep's heart was found to be contrived,

Oh ho ho his surprise,

When he did not survive.

He was not the chosen one,

His work here is now done,

His journey ends here,

But the story itself is nowhere near.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Eadric Paavo

I never imagined that I would step foot into the Hall of Two Truths where my heart would be weighed and Anubis would be judging the weight of my heart. If my heart was heavier than the feather, then I would be devoured by Ammit, but if it wasn't, then I lived and got to move through. My only other option would have been to go around the border of the Field of Reeds. I'd rather die doing something the wrong way than dying taking my chances by going around the Field of Reeds.

My heart pounded and the palms of my hands felt clammy. I tried to think back on my past. Had I ever done anything significantly sinful? I'd like to think that I was a good person, but no matter how much of a good person you were, everyone had sinned. Whether it was just a small, white lie or something big such as harming another. Throughout my entire life, I had always tried my best to be a good person and not sin, but the sad truth is that I knew I had. It may not have been a big sin, but it was a sin nonetheless and it was the sin that could cause my nonexistence.

It happened about three years ago. She had been my friend for only a few months, but we were closer than I had ever been with another in such a short time span. Her name was Allora and she had just moved away from her home when we first met. I had always wondered why she would have wanted to move to Egypt over where she had lived, but I was thankful for it nonetheless. Allora was different to most girls. She wasn't anything special though. Her hair was a plain brown colour and was often up in a bun or ponytail. Her eyes were chocolate brown and she had a darker skin tone with random freckles dotted over her face. She was far from beautiful, yet that was the way I had always seen her. Beautiful. Allora would have preferred to be by herself than with others and was just as clumsy as me. We always found ourselves in sticky situations but we always helped each other out of them, but one day, I chose not to help her.

The two of us were walking back to where I lived. It was a long walk but we didn't have many options. We had been walking for about twenty minutes in basic silence. Usually the two of us couldn't keep our mouths shut but today was different. I had noticed something off about Allora that morning. She had hardly spoken a word that entire day until I asked her what was going on. To this day, I still have no idea because we ended up in a fight which was why we weren't talking on the way home. I wished I knew what was going on. I also wished I had paid more attention to the tiny details and clues that I only learnt were there once this happened.

It was only once we had stopped at my house that she spoke to me.

"Please, don't leave me alone," she had muttered in a high-pitched squeak. At the time, I had no idea why she didn't want to be left alone. After we reached my house she would always leave me there and walk the rest of the street alone and I would stand out the front of my house to make sure she got home safely.

"Allora, I'll be watching you right up until you walk into your house. You're not ever alone."

"You don't understand. I know I'm never alone, but I am today," she had muttered in reply. I never understood why she had said that to me but after she said that to me we got into another fight because even after all this time, I hadn't understood my friend's needs. If I had only just understood her about not wanting to be alone, maybe things would have been different. But that day she ran away from me in tears and told me to leave her alone, that I would never understand her pain. I had stood frozen in place as she ran home. I should have run after her, but I didn't. I left her. I had left her to die.

After about ten minutes of standing there I managed to walked inside but immediately fell to the floor, my hand smashing into the mud that was formed like a brick that created the inside and outside of the house. Stars appeared in my vision and everything became a blur of black and that was the last thing I remembered before waking up to someone shaking me on the floor. When I stared at my brothers eyes I knew something was more wrong than me passed out on my floor.

"It's Allora, isn't it?" I had asked him almost knowingly, realisation going through my mind. He had nodded his head in response and that was the moment that I knew I had left her to die without even hearing her out or beginning to understand what she was going through.

That was the day I had sinned. I had left my friend when she needed me the most and now I would never see her again. It was my fault and I still had no clue what was completely going on with her but I should have listened to what she was saying.

With the thoughts of Allora in my mind I watched on as Anubis weighed my heart against a feather. It didn't decide straight away weather the feather or the heart was heavier. I just watched as it wavered on each side for a few seconds but I couldn't watch anymore so I closed my eyes and hoped for the best but I was okay if I died today. It would be worth it. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Khalid Masud

Darkness was something Khalid was familiar with.

He was used to nights when the moon was clouded over, and everything was so silent that your throat clogged up all on its own. On nights like that, even crickets kept sleeping. It was peaceful in the young man's opinion, undisturbed. Those nights were the only time Khalid could walk the streets without worrying about what other people thought, without having to smile or watch his surroundings every second in worry of tripping into someone else. Yet now the isolation and dark were squeezing his heart and making his chest tighten.

He could've followed Masika or any of the others into the lite hallway. He could've just let his heart be weighed in the Hall of Judgements. That option was certain death for Khalid, though. The man could only image how quickly that scale would've dropped, the white feather launched from its golden perch. He shook his head. This was safer.

A low growl pierced the air as if his thoughts had summoned a beast. Khalid, knowing it was a poor choice, spun on his heels to look behind him. It was a natural response, but not a smart one. Yet when he turned, there was nothing but more darkness. The hall had disappeared behind him now, the light too far away to help. All that was there was a steep hill of sand that he had scrambled down.

He continues slower, turning back around to find slim shades in the distance. They were too far away to make out properly, and hopefully too far away to be of any danger. They looked like clouds of smoke, just drifting and shifting, never stopping. Khalid could only assume they were the dead because of where he was. As he got closer, he began to hear whispers and murmurs from them. A shiver trailed up his spine and his hand dipped into his pocket to clutch the golden object hidden there.

He tried to listen to what the shades were saying. It was near impossible not to be curious. They weren't like normal people. They didn't pay attention nor care about Khalid as he passed through. Some even drifted straight through him, a chill washing through his blood and through his heart. A small gasp escaped his lips and he turned to watch it continue away.

Khalid's feet froze. As if his ankles had been caught in the sand below, he could do nothing but stare at the creature moving behind him. The fact that the shades were not the reason the place was called the Demon Lands became instantly clear. Dark, green eyes stared out at him, the creature's skin looking as if it had been charred as close to the point as it could be without simply falling from the bone. The same growl as he had heard before came out of the back of the creature's throat, which was all the more menacing up close. It took a step closer and Khalid took one back. There was only one choice for him now.

The man ran. His feet got little traction against the sand, thousands of grains kicked up with every step he took. It quickly took up the air around him and he was forced to shut his eyes as he ran. The creature's raspy breath was still behind him and Khalid felt his heart jump into his throat. Breathing heavily in an attempt to breathe around his clogged throat, Khalid heard a new sound in front of him.

Squinting just enough to see in front of him, the lump in his heart tripled in size. Two more demons stood in front of him, one twice the size and the other so skinny it could've been snapped in half with a single touch. He didn't dare find out if that was true, however, his feet already shifting. The darkness made it hard to see anything but the monsters glowing eyes. He knew they would catch him. He could feel how his skin would be ripped from his back. He could imagine them biting into his heart and eating it whole.

Then a hand wrapped around Khalid's ankle. A half scream came from his dry throat and he tugged as hard as he could. His foot slipped through, but he could feel the claw marks left behind. The sand was sure to stick to his blood, clinging like Khalid was to his last shreds of life. He made it a few more feet before stumbling on his throbbing ankle. The sand tasted like death and smoke, like things long forgotten. He spat it out and turned to look at the creature as he expected to be lurking above him.

Instead, he found all three standing several feet away. They were hissing at him from where they could and as Khalid slowly pushed himself to his feet he found all of the shades had faded away. He was the only one who hadn't been stopped. He was the only one who wasn't bound to the Demon Lands.

Khalid had made it through.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Abbas Naeem

 His heart is not heavy with sin- the fires had once proved that, yet he still questions their verdict, questions why the path he takes is to prove innocence, morality, when his mind insists that he has nothing of the sort. His heart is heavy- it has to be. Why else would it pull him down so completely, crushing his happiness until he is a man of nothing but poverty and desperation, the world around him ticks with unease, unsteadiness? Why else would he feel such a weight in his chest, a constant reminder of all he has done, all he has caused, all he is burdened with? Why else would it tear him in two- the side that wants to move on, and the side that lingers in guilt and shame?

How does he remain pure when his children have perished, and his family has abandoned him?

He remembers the way the bones in her chest had stuck out, obnoxiously blabbering about the lack of fat, the malnutrition his little girl was plagued by. He remembers how her breaths had been haggard, how she'd kept asking for food, food, and he had none to give. He remembers how he'd hugged her and been afraid of crushing such a fragile being, how small she was and should not have been, how weak she was and should not have been, how still she was and should not have been.

How does someone as pure-hearted as he supposedly is can allow such a thing to happen? How does he let a child starve to death and get away with it? How is he not supposed to let that haunt him for the rest of his life?

How is he worthy of anything but what he had gotten just after- nothing? He knows that to weigh himself will mean survival, but he shakes his head in disbelief at the concept, for a man such as himself cannot be what he is told he is.

He is starting to understand that he is not at fault, but he cannot grasp how. He could have worked harder, despite that odd jobs would give him the same scraps no matter how well he did- if anything. He could have gotten smarter and a better job, even though he'd come from a family where an education was virtually impossible to receive. He could have stolen, even though the law was the one thing he valued almost as much as his family, and to break it could result in someone else's inconvenience, someone else's lack of a meal, someone else's death, and it would have haunted him. He could have sacrificed more for his children and his wife and given them more than he had, could have given the food that would keep him alive to them and died instead.

He wants to think he could have.

He's stuck in the past, and the past won't let him go. It clings to him, just as he remembers his daughter doing as a toddler, her little hands wrapped around his leg as he walked around the shack his father-in-law had managed to scrape the funds together for.

It wasn't long before Abbas sold that tiny hut in favor of their next meal. That was when the furniture was gone, and all they'd kept was the clothes on their backs and a couple blankets and the least valuable of their cups for the rare supplies of water they'd manage to get. Then he'd sold all the blankets except one- the one he'd had ever since he'd been a kid and watched the royalty go by for the first time. He hadn't known anything then. He hadn't known what difficulties were to come.

He hadn't known that scales would still weigh in his favor, that his heart would remain unscathed- in theory. For the weight of his heart is not the same as how many pieces it's in, for they may all be light, but still destroy him.

Nothing can bring a child back to life. Nothing can bring a woman back to her husband. Nothing can bring fortune back to a man of poverty.

It doesn't matter how worthy he is.