In Egypt, the living were subordinate to the dead.
 - Stephen Gardiner

I can remember in my earliest nights, when I sat before my sire and asked him why the sky must burn us. His rich scent, like dust and cinnamon, filled the chamber as he chuckled in his silky way. Never could my answers be simple; to give the answer plainly would teach nothing. Instead, he told me this story:

Once, long ago, the one who was to be known as Set, and the one we know as Ra were brothers. They would hunt together, and fight together, and teach their families together. So close were they that they would travel even through the underworld together.

You see, it was the sacred duty of Ra to carry his light through the sky. But in the hours of darkness which we now reside, Ra passed through the lands of the dead. The dead are a treacherous lot, you see. They hated the sun and the warmth that it granted. They hated the sun, and the life that came in its wake. They hated that the light reflected upon them and revealed their true, wretched selves. Nothing can be born in the lands of the dead, even with the help of Ra’s sacred light. No flowers bloomed at his passing, no grain. The only thing that grows in the darkness of the Western Lands is hate.

So each night as Ra passed through the caverns of the dead, Set would run beneath him and fight back the denizens that dwelled there. Set was a fearsome warrior, and the dark was his ally; from shadow to shadow, he would dart and all would fall before his blade. For an eon, this was the way of things, until one night Ra ventured from his path and his radiance fell upon something older then the gods themselves; something evil and twisted. His light fell upon Apep, who the Greeks would later call Apophis.

This being was evil beyond knowing, and so mighty was he that even Ra knew fear when he looked upon the creatures twisted coils. Had it not been for Set, all would have been lost in the world. Set called to his brother, and warned him to flee. As Ra turned his mighty chariot and went to flee the Western Lands, Apep uncoiled and struck. Deep, his mighty fangs sank into the metal and wood of Ra’s chariot and down he pulled the mighty god.

Ra turned to face the creature and spat upon him shouting, “Let the light of Ra always burn you!”

Apep sizzled and bubbled, but did not let go.

Ra shouted, “May the Truth of my eyes pierce to your core!”

Apep burned and blackened and peeled, but did not let go.

Just as the chariot was nearly to the ground where the gathering hordes of hungry dead awaited to rip him asunder, Set appeared, running along the back of Apep and plunged his dagger into the creature’s eye.

Finally, Apep shrieked in rage, releasing the chariot. Set shouted to his brother to flee, and Ra nodded his gratitude as his light began to fade in the lands of the dead and reappear in the lands of the living. With the burning radiance of Ra gone, Apep turned his full attention to Set.

“You think you do the world a service, fool,” the serpent of darkness spat. “Truly, you just delay that which cannot be stopped.”

“I have fought in darkness before,” Set replied, slaying dozens of the clamoring dead as he spoke. “I have no fear of you or this place.”

Apep laughed, for his power truly was legion and in a flash his coils caught up the mighty Set and lifted him from the ground easily. “And now, little god, what shall you do? I have you, you are mine, and all you have fought for is naught.”

But Set smiled back into the darkness and called to him the strength of the storm. In the darkness, the wind pulled and lashed and sucked at Apep, drawing all the darkness into the center of the storm; into Set himself. Apep could not win, for darkness, much like wind, cannot be contained, only seen or ignored.

As the winds finally faded, Set was alone. Tired and battered, the warrior god went to leave the lands of the dead. But, as the holy light of Ra fell upon him, he burned and twisted and screamed.

“Brother!” he cried. “Why does the light of your eyes cut me to my core?”

“Because,” his brother replied. “You have known the enemy, and thusly we can no longer trust you.”

It was then that Set knew he had been betrayed. He fled the light before it could consume him entirely, and returned to the darkness. As he sat on the stone floor of the caverns, he knew that Apep had been right. The god of storms had not won that battle, only delayed the end of all things.

My sire would finish his tale with an expectant look, hoping to see if I understood the words. After all these long centuries, I think I finally do:

We of the Followers of Set are cursed with the true knowledge of betrayal. It is that, not the radiance of Ra, which causes us to burn in the light. That is what we see in the glimmer of the candle or the shimmer of the moon or the scorching rays of sun. It is the pale reflection that all things will end, and our brothers have betrayed us.

Player Essay by Rob Bennett