His Equal [Tom Riddle]

prologue

1933

A little girl at the mere age of six with dark ebony hair and chocolate eyes pouted in her room, glaring at the candle that flickered in front of her with a tear-stained face. Her father had just broken her play wand, a gift that he had given to her that Christmas that he obtained from his travels to London on "important headmaster business". She had accidentally gotten too excited with her new toy, and chanted "stupefy" to her mother - a spell that she had learned in one of her father's spell books. Her excitement, however, linked itself with the little girl's budding magical abilities, and she actually threw her mother out of the chair. 

Her father, thinking that the wand was stolen, snapped it in half, not believing that his daughter had enough power to do the act on her own. Once he realized it was fake, though, the man banned the girl to her room for the rest of the night, before they even had the chance to eat.

"Don't attempt magic ever again until you step foot into Uagadou!" He ordered as he roughly brought his daughter upstairs. He pushed open her wooden door and sat her down on her bed. The man continued to gather up all of the magical books on her floor which he recognized from his study with a motion of his hand and flew them out of her room. She protested, crying, but he silenced her with a snap of his fingers. "I mean it, Kepi," he sighed, turning his back. "It will bring you no good. To be more powerful than others is a curse . . . it assigns a permanent target on your back." He unsilenced her and turned his head before he stepped out of her room. "Stick to your fairytales, Kepi. Don't let your mind linger on magic until you're 11." And with that, the father stormed out.

As she sobbed, confused as to what exactly just happened, she sank into her bed. At the same time, a candle flickered to life, its flame burning bright in the dark room.

"Psst," someone hissed. The girl straightened up and wiped her eyes, looking around her. No one was there. "Look at the candle," the same voice ordered in a hushed tone. Kepi turned her head to the left, sniffling. "In the flame," it guided.

Kepi gasped at what she saw. It was the god Set - he was on a couple of tablets that her father held in his study, always aside the sun god, Ra. He was tiny in the candlelight, just like on those tablets, his face etched into the flame like stone.

"This is the good side of Set," her father would explain to her as he pointed out his figure on the tablets, "but do not be fooled. You see this face, you run. You hear his name, you run. Set is the god of chaos and war, Kepi. To worship him is to worship destruction. We worship Thoth. Thoth is good, he is wise, and he is knowledgeable. He will keep you safe. Set will betray you, as he did to his brother, Osiris."

She rubbed her eyes furiously, wicking the remaining tears away, and her heart started to beat quickly. Her young imagination, still damp with hope and wonder, began to conjure different stories as to why he was there. "W-why are you showing me your face?" She questioned, peering into the flame. It hurt her eyes, but she had to make sure that she was seeing clearly. "You're . . . evil. You shouldn't be here. Baba will get upset."

"The same Baba that just snapped your toy in half?" Set asked, not phased by her 'evil' accusation. He couldn't protest it, for she wasn't wrong. "The same Baba that is withholding you from becoming something great?"

This struck a chord in her. A spoiled child, always comfortable and never hungry, had never dreamed that there was something in the world that wasn't hers to possess. "Something great?" Kepi repeated, not sure what Set meant.

"Yes, Kepi Nassor, can you not feel it?" The flame that held Set's face grew slightly and flickered faster. "You radiate power. That little stunt you pulled on your mother earlier was quite impressive."