Nezzar

Part One: An Alliance

Thebes, Kingdom of Egypt

The wide hypostyle temple was near-silent save for the trickling of springs at the four corners of the great hall. A being, large and invisible to the human eyes, sat upon a great golden throne. Upon his head was a tall crown of beaten gold, a kite in flight jutting from its forefront like a crest. Black as night skin gleamed under the light of the oil lamps, and the bulging muscles of his biceps were encircled with twin armbands. One hand gripped an iron goblet resting on the throne's armrest and the other held on to a spiked chain. Tar poured from his clawed fingertips and wrapped around the linked metals, the thick fluid moving like a living thing.

"Judah has fallen. Egypt is next!" The Grib cawed as it tumbled into the temple, charred black feathers and smoke trailing its frenzied entrance.

The iron goblet paused inches from Amon-Ra's lips. He blinked, a conscious action that occurred whenever unexpected news hit him. "What?"

"Nebuchadnezzar and his army breached Jerusalem's wall days ago, blinded Zedekiah, and burned the city." The Grib, a large raven-like spiritual messenger, managed to land on both feet, black beak hanging open as it panted. Ruffling its ever-shedding feathers, it kept its beady eyes lowered as it approached Amon-Ra's throne. "As I speak, the forces of Kedar and Hazor are levelled, the best of her people taken prisoner."

"And the war imps we sent?" Amon-Ra asked even though he could guess the answer already.

"Gone. I cannot trace them."

Taking the goblet to his lips, Amon-Ra took a sip, tasting nothing as the hot liquid washed down his throat, scalding and strengthening as it went. He had sent every god and demon out of the temple when he sensed the Grib's approach because he suspected bad news. His guess had been correct.

With eyes fixed straight ahead, Amon-Ra asked. "Any warring angel in sight?"

"No. It would seem the Babylonians won on their own—"

"No battle is ever won on a physical level alone," Amon-Ra cut in. He flicked his wrist, causing a fat hell worm to flop before the Grib. "You've been paid your due. Leave."

"Many thanks, master Ra."

"I am no longer Ra!" Amon-Ra roared. Clay jars holding cake offerings shattered. Flames from nearby lamps sputtered off. The Grib tucked its head between its ribs and left wing, shuddering.

"I am Amon-Ra, the reawakened," he spat. "Never forget to address me accordingly. Never."

"I-I apologize, o great Amon-Ra." The bird bowed, feathers shedding harder.

"Get out," Amon-Ra commanded through gritted teeth.

In one move, the bird scooped the wiggling worm, flapped its wings, and disappeared in a flash of fire and ash.

Inept lots.

The gods of Egypt, the priests, and priestesses, even that idiotic Grib. All were cretins, dull short-sighted morons who knew nothing of how difficult it was to wield power only to end up hacking off pawing hands that wouldn't cease grabbing for it.

And Nebuchadnezzar. His right eye twitched. That mortal king who bore Abaddon's mark.

Amon-Ra crushed the iron goblet, black liquid spilling and corroding his flesh. He barely registered the sizzle and smoke rising from the area the drink burned. There was not a chance in all of hell that that cur would take Egypt. Not if he still sat upon this throne and commanded the fiercest spiritual hoard there ever was.

Amon-Ra exhaled a long breath. If there was anything the past centuries taught him, it was to never ever underestimate an opponent. He made that mistake with Abaddon once and the resulting effect had been damning. The defeat was still fresh in his mind. Not this time. Yes, Nebuchadnezzar was a lackey of the destructive angel but that did not mean there were no methods to end the king.