Trial of Anubis

١٨ : WRAITH

      Wraith considered the Sons of Horus like vermin; pests which could never truly be exterminated. They were notorious for appearing out of thin air, slithering out of drains or hiding behind furniture—whenever there was town gossip, a Son of Horus would be in the midst of it peddling a rumour for political gain.

       Out of respect to Lacy, Wraith kept Carn in the confines of the courtyard. It wasn't his first choice to have the Head Son alive, but Wraith couldn't risk any further ally casualties if he were left to his own devices. Something was definitely amiss, and Wraith wanted to find out what.

       Carn sat on the carved sandstone bench, bound from the neck to his thighs in reinforced linen. He could tell from the slightly discoloured line around Carn's neck that they were too tight. Wraith would be lying if he didn't wish for every single bone to break beneath Anuka's incantation. For additional embarrassment, Anuka insisted on a length of bandage around Carn's neck to act as a leash.

       They deduced that Carn had no power over the Arts and couldn't have cast the protective barrier surrounding him, but he wouldn't say what exactly protected him. No weapon could get close to him, though objects with an equal amount of hekka seemed to cancel out the invisible cloak such as Anuka's bandages.

        Anuka bound his hands in fresh linen and shared a look with Wraith, "How do I know when I'm breaching the treaty?"

       He gave an offhand shrug, "Tit-for-tat, if you land a fatal wound the Great Father will give one back. I broke a few Sons of Horus' kneecaps before Horwedja's death and felt no effects. Only one way to find out."

        Anuka's lip curled back, "Well if I can't beat you into the ground, I guess this is my only other option."

       He drew his arm to the side and hooked Carn in the cheek. There was no resistance or barrier as anticipated. Carn's entire head jerked to the side and his nose began to trickle with blood.

         "Tell us about him," Wraith cocked his head when Anuka went for two fast jabs to the mouth.

       "What?" Ziara sat across on the other bench with her knees pulled to her chest.

        "I need to know what he's like, we can't risk another massacre," Wraith started to wrap his own hands. "What was he like before claiming his title as a Son of Horus?"

        Ziara's eyes widened with unshed tears. She swallowed a few times and dug her nails into her palms, "Uh. . .he was never violent. He works at the museum which my dad frequently held exhibitions, so we knew each other from interactions at work. He only had a few friends from the museum and to my knowledge lived alone."

        "What did he have against your father?" Anuka threw another punch.

      "Nothing really," Ziara bit her lip. "I mean, he explained to my dad that he wanted to work on one of our digs and that Egyptology was his passion, but my dad didn't trust him enough for the green light. He thought Patrick was going to use us for publicity. Their beef was never open, my dad kept his opinions to himself."

      "And what does he want with you?" with two quick jabs, Wraith had bruised Carn's entire left eye.

      "I don't know," Ziara averted her eyes. "We were never together but y'know, we'd do shit and discuss work. It was casual at best, but he never acted possessive like this."

     "Sorry to break it to you but he sounds like a fuckboy to me," Nathanial tugged on the leash with a chuckle. "His aura is almost as unpleasant as he is."

      "What do you mean?" Wraith paused his punch and wiped the blood from his hands.

      "All he has is blue blotches revolving around his head, heart and stomach. I've learned that clarity is important with auras, from what I know it shows your internal strength. The Head Son of Horus is weakening, his aura also doesn't take form of a falcon—it's as if he has no identity."