hathor harrow planned to die in the sand that day, being lost to time and leaving the plans of her father behind.
but fate had other plans for her.
HATHOR HARROW serves montu, the god of war. as trouble stirs itself up in cairo, another avatar wit...
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BEING A FORMER FOLLOWER of Ammit was not easy. Especially when one has yet to tell their beloved mentor, practically a surrogate father, that they no longer believe in the words he preaches. Hathor Harrow was always a skeptic. She typically tested people's patience by playing the devil's advocate. However, when Montu approached her, Ammit no longer mattered. Ammit was a bug on a windshield. Ammit was someone who needed to stay dead.
The god of war, Montu, taught Hathor how to be independent and brutal. She was no longer someone easily influenced by a couple of parlor tricks. Montu had told her the truth. In her nature, Hathor fought Montu over Ammit. Montu was against the very belief of the banished goddess, advocating for chaos the same way Ares did in Greece. She was loyal and true to her father, right hand to all of his tricks and silver-tongued lies.
She was enlightened. She was the persecutor, the beginning of an end. Under the chaos of Seth and the crimes punished by Khonshu laid Hathor. Montu watched, glad to have molded a warrior and a soldier. Unfortunately, her debt had yet to be paid. She had so much damage to reverse after telling people false prophets of Arthur Harrow and Ammit. Now, she was serving her sentence.
Arthur had found Hathor when the girl was just three. Her parents were gone, the only evidence left behind was the trail of blood that disappeared at the front door, and her innocence called out to Khonshu and Arthur. Arthur, Khonshu's avatar, listened to the god who told her to take him under his wing. The god had raised her until she was ten. When Arthur was no longer the fist of vengeance, he used to be.
She admired her father, worked to become the next him. When Arthur began to grow his group of followers, Hathor was only a couple steps behind him. Now Hathor is grown— having spent four years without seeing her father. She was no longer a false follower, yet the scale branded into her forearm was a sign that she was. It was sloppy and rushed, but nothing could take the signs of a past life off her body.
Hathor still lived in Cairo, despite the growing bounty on her head (for her to be delivered to Arthur alive and unharmed.). She knew Cairo better than most. She knew all the shortcuts and alleyways through the city. Hathor knew the vendors, merchants, all the way down to the servants under the noses of the most powerful people there. It was her home, and she would rather die under the hand of Ammit than reject it. Despite her traveling upbringing, she was Egyptian at heart and always would be.
—
An eleven-year-old Hathor held her father's hand while crossing the street. Usually, Khonshu would crack jokes to amuse the girl, or comment on people's poor choices in clothing. His large shadow would cast over her, a constant reminder that he was there. Instead, the sun beat down both of their necks as beads of sweat trickled down their backs. It had been a year since Khonshu abandoned her father— they had not been the same since.
Hathor turned to Arthur, "Papa?" She asked, and he turned away from the merchant down to her. He hummed, giving her a sign to continue. "Why do we wanna find," She lowered her voice into a whisper, "Ammit," she spoke again in her usual tone, "again?"
