Trial of Anubis

٢٤: WRAITH

        Tawet lay on the floor of Wraith's childhood home. Sweat collected on her brow as her breath laboured, she'd collapsed getting off the sun lounge hours ago and had no strength to move. Wraith left the palace and Rabiah's side to venture into the slum of Thebes to his mother. He didn't know what compelled him, but he just felt that death would meet Tawet soon.

         Wraith's shadow loomed over her as he stood in the doorway. She wheezed, sensing the intrusion. Her skeletal frame almost caved in on itself as she tried to roll over and face him. Wraith exhaled a long breath and crouched next to her, moving the fallen pillows and woven blanket out of his way.

     Tawet's black hair was thin and sparse and her eyes were dull as she stared at him, "I want Anapa to take me. M–my husband is dead, and my only son is a cultist. . .there is nothing left for me here. What did I ever do t–to deserve this suffering? Did I not pray enough to Amun-Ra? Did you curse me?"

     Wraith said nothing. He shook the blanket out and wrapped it around his mother.

        "W–What. . .what a–are you doing?" she gasped.

        Wraith bent down and lifted her up in his arms. Up close, he could see the extent starvation had on the body. Chapped and bloodless lips, glassy eyes, brittle teeth and hair loss—Wraith wondered whatever happened to the beautiful woman who raised him, it was as if her ugly personality and hatred towards him manifested into a physical form. Tawet weighed nothing more than a bundle of Isfet's papyri and was a stranger to Wraith. There were no fond memories of his parents, just the ever-present pressure of escaping the working caste.

       Her weakness won out and Tawet rested her head against his shoulder. Realising their time was limited, he carried her out of the home and into the night. In the depths of his core, Wraith hoped his animalistic warmth was enough to keep death away for a few more hours.

       Ahu's shop was harder to find than first thought and as consequence, Tawet's breathing laboured and became more infrequent. It was located in the abandoned plaza, signalling the shift of the state's capital to Armara. The door had been bolted shut after Ahu's death, but Wraith only considered it an obstacle. Positioning Tawet's body over his shoulder, Wraith cast his hand towards the door.

       Instantly, sand and grit solidified into jagged spikes, obliterating the wood from its hinges. Inside, dust covered jars and unlit oil lamps gave the chamber a tomb-like feel. He set Tawet on the mastaba and removed the blanket to find her shivering. He muttered a curse under his breath and lit the oil lamps to provide her more warmth.

      "W–Wahret. . .why. . .why are you doing this?" Tawet exhaled.

        Wraith lowered the ritual carving knife to stare at her. As she lay idle, Wraith felt the decades of emotion well up in the pit of his stomach which he'd tried to quell since childhood. His parents caused the wedge in their relationship from the start, Wraith knew he'd been an unwanted child from the lack of parenting he received—there was no guidance or blessings, he was used and abused until he gained the confidence to command his voice against those that raised him.

      "It is predicted that I will have a son," he rested his hands against the mastaba, staring down at her in pity. "I will make him Pharaoh one day."

      "If your wife will allow it. . .it is like a Benu loving an asp," she coughed. "Your royal tribe are not popular amongst Thebans, i–if you. . .if you were smart, you would have stayed in the desert with your fellow occult."

     Wraith ignored her, "I will give my child everything; bathe him, coddle him, teach him how to use a sword. . .I will love him more than you could have ever loved me. I will push him to his limits because I want him to succeed, not because I am greedy and am vane—it is what he deserves, he will be our families legacy whilst others struggle to discern your name from the shallow rock carvings marking your tomb."