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 The Awakening (SA) 
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The pleading finally broke through Bet's concentration. Kali was begging him for the life of Mahti. Kali, his favorite Hemu, was finally asking for something. This Hemu had never done such a thing before. Bet had even tested Kali by not feeding him for a week. Kali asked for nothing during that time. The Hemu had proved to be worth much more than just the muscles on his bones. Kali was fiercely loyal to Bet, for some unknown reason. For that, Bet liked this Hemu.

He would also grant Kali this request as he waved his hand, making the Asp swiftly turn into ashes. His cold hard eyes focused on Kali, after he was done.

"Kali, you begged for the life of this impudent fool. She is your ole responsibility. If she acts out, or angers me once more. You both will be put to death."

He stepped closer to Kali, his face growing even more stern as he whispered to the Hemu, "Do not make me kill my Favorite."

He stode past Kali, and the beds, heading back to his own chambers. That left Kali staring after him in wonderment, and a feeling of foreboding falling over him. The Hemu would have to keep this troublemaking woman out of Bet's way, and keep her on his good side.

Kali turned to face Mahti, their eyes locking. His pleading for her to be good, and hers slowly recovering from the fright.


--------------------------------------------------

Time had passed. Their city had become quite resplendent over the weeks and months that had followed. Wars had come and gone, land ownage had fell and rose.

Mainly for Bet, it was his time to show the full populace of the SA what he was. A warlock of disturbing powers. He had to show it to those he was allied with after his kingdom had been smashed down time and again. The looks on the Hemu's faces when he first brought about his undead warriors was something he relished in. He especially enjoyed their shocked looks when they recognized their own family members marching with him.

Of course, that joy was only half of what he felt when he marched against his enemies, and they saw the same things. He cared not if they were enemies at the beginning of the battle, as long as they had died, his army would grow bigger and more powerful.

From what he could tell, though, was that they were not so shocked at seeing the dead walking, or fighting, it was the fact that they were raised by a human's hand. Or maybe it was more the fact of how many he raised. Thousands upon thousands fell into the ranks as Bet's army rolled through the enemy lands. His magic flashing in the air, in defiance of the Gods' disappearance.

He followed Isonia, but mainly he just gave her lip service to please her enough to give the temples some powers to strike down upon the heathens. Now, he had no need of giving such lip-service. The Gods were gone, and there were no more heathens. Just enemies.

And more troops waiting to join Bet's army.

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Crushed, along with your hopes and dreams.


Thu Jan 13, 2005 2:42 am
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The blood of betrayal soaks the sands of time. The Sekhet know their share of betrayal, misfortune, and distrust. From the times of old when the serpent Apep corrupted the minds of the noble houses to the present, when one within the faith betrayed not only the Sekhet Aaru but the others that fly under the Isonia flag. The Sekhet is different than them though, they disregard all of the known gods and only believe within their own. No false profits can guild their souls to the gates of Memphis and then onto the land of Aaru.

Time ticks as each grain passes the narrows of the glass leaving the future empty and the past full of anger. Betrayal can only last so long and the future will not stand for it. Times change and today change takes place within the tomb of the betrayed. The sands shift draining the blood drenched past onto an ever changing future.

On this day when Kenemet makes his daily visit to the tomb of his queen he will find the carefully sealed door open and the tomb empty. Thoughts of the fallen will fill his head and the pain of Neferthys will wash over his body. He will see small footsteps leading away from the tomb in the direction of the city as the soft seductive voice fills his thoughts.


The sands may blow to distant lands but the blood of betrayal not only soaks our past but also our souls. The time has come, the time to end the pain, to regain what was lost and wash the sands of time. Follow me.

_________________
I am the voice inside your head
Resurrected from the ashes of the dead

High Priestess of the Sekhet-Hetep
Sekhet-Aaru


Mon Mar 21, 2005 8:48 pm
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Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a tunnel. Yes! She knew where this would lead to! If they could only get in the tunnel they could hid in the dark and make their way towards the river. Ahmose grabbed her sister and ran. They were almost there! A few more steps to freedom! Kiya was in the lead, the faster of the two. Down into the tunnel she went, and hid. The guards could be heard scrammbling all around her. Turning over barrels, shifting through the contents of the tunnel. Hiding in hole that used to be used small storage, Kiya held her breath.

After a while the noise stopped. She heard a guard say "She must have went out the back way. We'll find her." The footsteps faded away and all was quiet. She waited and waited. She must have fallen asleep, for soon the sun was rising. Crawling out from her hiding space she whispered, "Ahmose? Ahmose where are you?" The only answer she got was silence. Tears came to her eyes. "She must have made it to the river already" Kiya tried to convince herself. Yes. That must be it. Tears streaming down her face, she cautiously made her way to the river, hoping to find her sister there waiting for her.

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A Hemu SlaveSekhet Aaru


Fri May 13, 2005 12:35 pm
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the torture he knew as a listless soul had lasted many, many seasons. thrice alive, thrice dead. he remembered his first death, at the hands of darden assassins, sent by his isonian foes. some of them still lived. most, however, were dead - most, dead by the passage of time. few were killed by the hand of his avengers.

his second life, he knew as a series of flashes, random images, brief sensations. a touch, a smell. he came to pass within a brief cough of life, brought back to command armies, and slaughter the hordes who assaulted the gates of silence. the mental chaos that he suffered, he kept largely under control, then: only once had he been through the soul-churning passage from death to life. once his service was complete, he was left to leave the body in which they incarnated him.

his third life, he knew only as feral muscle-memory: instinct that drove him forward, madness guiding his methods. the kages of the night gaurd, then, had needed him, to command armies once more. the powerful magic of mashiro-kage bound him to deliver victory on behalf of his clan. all he knew was that he had failed them, for his soul was once more returned to the chaotic wandering that he had known all along.

but this... his fourth life? he stared at his hands, at his feet. it was not the body he remembered; but, then, he didn't know if the body he remembered had ever truly been his. was it real?

a sense of familiarity overwhelmed him, then, as he stood in this open-air market. who has summoned me, to fight once more? what was more, his mind had a semblance of calm. calm? he thought, how is this possible?

he looked to the west, and saw the desert, then. vast, inescapable, unforgiving. yes, he DID know this place. beyond that, however, he did not know precisely how or why.

he had to think.

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-die bankier
ich bin die bundesbank

WeeC | WTFPWND | NX | NPAC
officially endorses MoP's candidacy


Sat May 14, 2005 2:28 pm
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Slipping into the room, he quietly shut the door behind him. His father, Gahiji lay out in the bed before him. He looked even worse than last time Dakarai had come to visit, if that was even possible. His father had been very ill for many months now. Looking down at him, Dakarai saw the shrunken remains of what was once a very strong and powerful man. But even as his strength has failed him, when he spoke his words still held the power. This man was one that used to being listened to. One who never heard the word no, or if he had, that person was not able to speak at all for much longer. His face was cold, somewhat ruthless even. Although in this state of being, there was so sympathy or caring to be found here. Only a stubborn old man.

There was only one person that he had evey lifted this veil of hardness for. That was Dakarai's mother, Halima. Dakarai was the only child born to Gahiji from her, his favorite wife. Because of this, Dakarai had always recieved deferental treatment from his father. It embarassed him that his brothers and sisters were shunned and he was adored. But Dakarai was a ray of sunshine to all that met him. There was not one in the world who held ill feelings toward Dakarai. His mother had named him thus because it meant "happiness," and he had always made everyone around him happy. But today was not a day for jokes and good humor. Today he had been summoned by his father to come hear his last wishes.

Dakarai knelt down beside his father. "Father?" he whispered, "It is your son Dakarai. I am here father."

Gahiji, turned his head slowly towards his son. "Dakarai...." he started slowly, "My favorite son.... I am dying. Soon I shall no longer be among this world. You are my eldest son, and thus have my rights and priviledges passed down to you..... Use them wisely my son..... Never be taken advantage of.... You are the one upon who all the hopes of our family are placed..... Never forget that..... Bring our family greatness and prosperity..... I am counting on you. I know you will not fail me." Coughing, Gahiji rested his head upon the pillow. His breathing grew heavier and more strained.

Dakarai felt tears start to whell up behind his eyelids. No, I musn't cry. I must be strong he thought to himself. "I will father. You needn't worry. I will bring great honor to our family."

These words seemed to calm the old man. His breathing slowed and because shallow. Soon he breathed no more. Dakari stood up and gazed upon the man. "Goodbye father. May you have a safe journey to the world beyond."

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Sekhet Aaru


Tue May 17, 2005 4:54 pm
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Ages had passed for the man who had brought the fear into the hearts of those superstitious fools whom had fought against the Sekhet Aaru. He had gone on with his own path. It was one that was not followed by those he had fought with in the guild, it was one that none felt comfortable with, but one he was going to follow, with or without them. The mere thought brought a small sneer to the Ator's weathered face.

He had chosen to come back to these lands to simply take a look around and see what had become of those that he had spent so much time. Some would say too little time had been spent working together, but he had never wished to get too close to them. He was simply about power. Gaining and gaining. Which was what drew him away from the Sekhet Aaru. It was not a power of position, it was a chance to add to his magical might, something he knew would afford him a much greater position when the time finally came.

Still, the power had been claimed at quite a price to his soul. It had cost him the tenderness he had for his old slave, Kali. He had sacrificed the optimistic fool for the power, and he very rarely regretted doing such a thing. He did still get a bit of joy from the tears that had rolled down Mahti's ruined face after the sacrifice was complete. Her suffering had been exquisite, and he left her alive! He truly hoped to see her again.

Today was not about them. It was about his visit back to the lands of the Sekhet Aaru. He was not sure if it was curiousity, a hope that maybe they had devolved into cannibals, or maybe he actually missed some of them. He just wanted to see the lands again, that was all he was sure of.

He wandered through the streets and alleys. None spoke to the man in the gray cloak, but many seemed to recognize the eyes. He knew they would, of course, he was just wondering how long it might take for the rumors to begin again, and how long it would take for someone he knew to confront him.

He idly wondered if he would enjoy the confrontation, now. Then again, maybe he would find that his heart was not as covered in ice as he simply assumed, since he cared quite a lot for the poor fool, Kali.

He shook his head, and turned down yet another darkened alley, the sun annoyed him still. Maybe he would find one of those nice little bars that seemed to be hidden in a niche and have a bit of fun at tthe mere cost of a couple slaves. A smile finally broke through, his bright white teeth shining menacingly in the dimming light.

_________________
Your soul, in my hands.
Crushed, along with your hopes and dreams.


Tue Jun 21, 2005 7:54 pm
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The rebuilding progressed slowly, though it progressed. Every day, the lands strengthened their borders, and tightened the inner workings necessary for a strong kingdom. Every day, the hemu became more acquainted with each other and worked easier alongside one another.

Every day, Amuneti looked in on her sister, laying listless upon the pillows as her madness consumed her.

The final straw that broke the camel's back, as it is said, happened when Kenemet found the tomb empty. Though how that single happenstance, which should have been the most thrilling and joyous occassion was the downfall of the last vestiges of her sanity was unknown.

Amuneti only knew that before that, Sharifa had grown more and more distant, and pulled farther and farther away from both her and Kepi. Neither of the two had any idea what had caused this most recent change, and it was only days after she had all but cloistered herself into the chambers she occupied that her sanity finally broke.

Sharifa hardly moved. She did not eat, and had to be fed like an infant. She breathed slowly and had to be watched constantly lest she would simply stop breathing at times. Her skin was sunken and wan, and her eyes had lost any semblence of life they once carried.

Amuneti bit her lower lip and turned away.

So often, she was to be the Strong one, the one who showed no emotion as she led the armies to crush the enemies. So often, she was that emotionless warrior that was necessary to do so. One cannot shed blood of others without either becoming engulfed in that blood, or letting it wash over you without touching you. Amuneti had acquired the second ability.

Though when it came to Sharifa and Kepi, all emotions were loosed.

Worry abounded around Kepi, whom still so aptly fit her name of "Tempest", and Sharifa? She simply was there now.

Gone was the beauty, the vibrance, the love for her daughter and her Goddess. Though the love for her Goddess had left long ago when the firm grip she held on her sanity was shattered, and she only maintained a tenuous hold on it.

She never mentioned anything happening, nor anything that would warrant that final fall into the darkness that she dwelt in now.

Shaking her head and clasping her fists to her chest tightly, Amuneti turned back and after placing a gentle kiss upon the brow of her beloved sister, went to go visit her neice. And begin the daily lessons of teaching her how to be an Akhemu-Betesh.

_________________
~{Sekhet Aaru}~
Akhemu-Betesh
Battle-Mistress
Walk in the darkness to find the light


Fri Jul 01, 2005 12:59 am
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