Zahra was dead. At least, she should have been if it weren't for an Egyptian Goddess deciding she didn't deserve to die so young. Yet, Zahra had no memories of the time before becoming an Avatar and it seemed that a trip to a familiar place was soon...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
As soon as Omari had left the house, Zahra moved to bolt the doors and head upstairs to the bedroom she had once shared with Marc. She bit her lip as she noticed him sitting on the floor with no shirt on, the window open and curtains drawn. Zahra couldn't blame him, the heat was intense when you had been living in England the day before.
"Give me that," Zahra demanded as she sat down next to Marc.
"You don't drink—"
"I do now," Zahra grumbled, taking the bottle of alcohol from him and gulping a large amount.
She collapsed next to him, sliding down the bed until she was sitting with her back leaning against it. She had thrown her jacket onto the bed upon entry to the room, leaving her in the thin tank top. She held the bottle of Vodka in one hand while taking Marc's hand in her other.
"What happened when I died?" Zahra mumbled, leaning her head against Marc's shoulder. "I don't remember any of it and you're still upset about it."
"What was the last thing you remember?"
"I remember being in pain—" This made Marc frown immediately and tighten his grip on Zahra's hand. "—and looking for you. That's it."
"You didn't tell me what happened before I found you," Marc began.
Marc shifted slightly, which didn't help either of them in the uncomfortable heat, but he wanted to place his arm around her waist.
"I found you being followed by a group of criminals, tried to take them out with you getting involved but...but you had been stabbed and one of them grabbed you to get my attention." Marc paused as Zahra lifted her head up to look at him, Marc looking back down at her. "I watched that man kill you with no remorse, Z, none. I held you when...when..."
"It's okay," Zahra whispered. "I get it."
"More of them came and I just entered a rage, when I got back to you, you were gone. I couldn't do anything."
"I'm sorry, Marc."
"It's my fault, not yours," Marc insisted. "I shouldn't have listened when you told me you could go alone."
"I like to live life on the edge." Zahra smiled.
"That's too soon."
"Sorry."
"Stop apologising," Marc scoffed. "But do you see why I didn't want to get you wrapped up in this mess?"
Zahra nodded but that didn't change the fact that there was no going back now. She still would be wrapped up in it even if she hadn't remembered him, Nephthys would have sent her.
"What's this?" Marc traced his finger along the hawk tattoo on Zahra's wrist.
"It's the reason I remember you again, it's a memory catcher," Zahra explained, staring at it. "Nephthys formed it upon riving me and realising I had no memories. She's the protector of souls and mine needed protecting."
Zahra stood up from her place, pulling Marc up along with her. Marc lay on the bed with Zahra curled at his side. The curtains drifted in the hot breeze and Cairo could be seen outside. It felt natural for both of them: it felt safe.
Zahra yawned. "You know, Steven isn't that bad. I just wish you had told me about him sooner. I could have helped."
"How?"
"Marc, I fell in love with you and I married you...but Steven is still you. He's just nicer," Zahra shrugged. "I don't have to act like he's an invader, you know? He doesn't understand what's happening to you, that's all."
"I'm not going to let him steal my wife, Zahra."
"You don't really get a say," Zahra smiled, placing her arm over his torso,"I'm the one that has to live with both of you. And I swear, if I at any point wake up and you are gone, I will hunt you down and kill you."
Marc nodded as he glanced at Steven in the mirror. He looked at Zahra with a concerned look, while pleading with Marc to let him help...to give him back the body.
"Nephthys is different than Khonshu," Zahra spoke up. "I never realised until I remembered the way you spoke of him."
"All of the gods are the same, Zahra."
"They're not," Zahra replied. "I trust Nephthys, she keeps me safe, never pressures me to do anything I don't want to do—"
"Then why did Omari say you've killed people?" Marc's tone was pained. "All those nights you helped me deal with the guilt, all the times you persuaded me not to kill someone and now you're just, what? Dancing around the streets, killing people for Nephthys just like Khonshu orders?"
"They only die if there's no other choice, Marc," Zahra answered honestly. "I try everything first...get them to see their soul is tainted, to turn themselves in, to apologise to the gods. Some do and I make sure they're holding to their promise...but the majority don't."
"I'm not saying that it's not right, Zahra, I'm asking how you deal with the guilt when you find out they had families, kids, parents?"
"I find that the ones who have families surrender rather quickly the moment the first one falls."
The lack of emotion in her voice worried Marc more than it should have. Zahra had always been the pure, gold-hearted saviour, not a murderer. Marc still wondered how he fell in love with someone so different to him but in the time he had spent with her, he realised that she made life seem so normal.
"The truth is Marc, for two months, I assumed that I could have been anyone," Zahra finally broke, with pain riddled in her voice. "I tried to find signs that I wasn't some kind of murderer or that I had abandoned an entire family behind. And I still don't really know all of that. It just happens that I've spent some much time with you to see I wasn't that bad of a person."
"You're the best person I know," Marc replied immediately.
"I woke up without a personality and for a while, I created this bubble where I could do anything and it would never hurt the Zahra that didn't wear that suit," A tear ran down Zahra's face. "Marc, I was on my way to stop you...my mission was to find Khonshu's avatar and stop him from making the problem worse. Oh god, what if I had—"
"Stop it," Marc mumbled. "Go to sleep, Z. Just go to sleep, I'm here."
Zahra slowly began to fall asleep with her head against Marc's shoulder and an arm over his torso. Marc had his arm around her shoulders as he glared Steven down in the mirror.
"You don't deserve her," Steve stuttered. "She was good and y-you–"
"Shut up," Marc growled, turning his head and resting it upon Zahra's.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
