Work Text:
sister
warrior
goddess
in a past life she has been
many things
enemy, traitor
advisor, weaver
silver tongue
that leads even the strongest men
to sin
she has never brought such destruction
that she has warred here
that she will bring
in past myth, she leads the sun to death
he looks into endless eyes
and swallows that which she has poisoned
with words never to be shared
she heals through blackmail
never has a golden age been built on such deception.
in this life, he is not that different.
the sun follows his words
and thinks of a time when promises were
more than just words
and falls to empty truth
Isis walks with smoke in her lungs
and a back that once stood tall
is bowed with old ages
of seconds gone past.
here he stands, plotting to tear
the world apart
to achieve a little more power
a little more control
brother
warrior
god.
time has not forgotten your story
though the details may change
he who weighs
lord of judgement
ruler of an empty court
husband of a wife who does not come home.
in your first life
she was your sister
and her plots for your brother
her deception to bring him to power
condemns you as much as it does those more damaged
in your second life, she is your wife
you wait for her to return to your arms
and when daylight breaks she does not return
she cares for delusions of grandeur
and in this life, her brother is her son.
it suits her better
a mother living life through her son
for power she cannot grasp
she will keep stern hold on the reigns
and you keep watch over it all
because your life has never been yours
there is nothing to say, you are shaped by her decisions
it does not change in this life either.
you are small, and though your power stays
they see pink hair and a small waist
and see something fragile
you have judged souls worse than theirs
but it does not matter in the end.
no matter what you do, you will follow
men with ideals of power hidden in safety
freedom through the pain of another
the destruction of people in the name of peace
you follow
and follow
and follow
because you are built, Osiris
not to carve your own story
but to read and write others
you are nothing but a figurehead
in the worst of ways
you are a tool to be wielded
without choice or question
it is not your place to wonder
the way of the world
your place to obey
you are to lash out, to rule
you will do what is expected of you
as it tears you limb from limb.
there is nothing beyond a tool to be wielded
you will suit the image they create
you will.
because no-one else can do it
would do it
can trust enough to give up all autonomy
you are used to it being taken from you
it has always been this way
and it always will be
a
mother brother
who plots your rise
a
father sister
who watches it happen
helpless
you have never been anything but a weakness
and you never will be
and thus, you are discarded
when your existence becomes a threat
there is a reason your mother wants you to be a pharoah
There is a reason your brother wanted you to be president
they want to watch
when the ground gives out
from under your feet.
Horus, destined to take
destined to steal
destiny is a blessing
that feels like a curse
people fear you, it is your name that strikes fear
You are bathed in blood
your brothers
sisters
parents
they are all disappointed in what
you have become
but you have not chosen to be
a god of evil
it was decided for you
they find it all too easy to forget
when it is convenient for them
you are to be called upon when they desperately need you
but never anytime else
they forget you bring health
as much as you destroy
the sand is not red because you made it that way
but they will believe it anyway
because your voice is not worth listening to
you are blood and anger and toil
this has been this way since your birth
it was not changed back then
it does not change now
you fight Apophis back
batter him from the sides of the boat
and a man
in a green cloak
and mask of bone
will attempt to destroy the sun
but once more you stand
you are a protector first
even when those you seek to protect
forget
they have never understood your version of love
Set, Evil Day, is what they call you
and you carry every name
through every battle
until the sun loses its final fight
you are easily forgotten
this is not a new fact
of your siblings, you are the forgettable
do they even consider you one of them?
this is not a question
you want the answer to.
your brother makes your rivers run red
but you do not mind
you have always had a strange relationship with him
and he is as ignored as you are.
you know he does not mean to hurt you
he has always kept his cares tucked tightly away
but there are times when violence
cannot be seen as love
and this is one of those moments
because ambition takes priority over family
this is a lesson you have been taught
time
and time
again.
there is a special place
in the ether
for the downtrodden
your back and throat are scarred
your chest is a mess of stitches and pain
but there is a story in each ache
of a soldier torn
between expectation and fear
between his aims and loyalty
but you are siblings
and you are family
you have been taught the same lessons
by an older brother blinded by ambition
and a sister trapped by the sidelines
and a boy made weapon
you are Nephthys
and your rivers are gentle
but have taken
many a man
to an early grave.