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This is a work in progress based loosely on the Kemetic Duat and being swallowed by Nut. A lady in a forum I frequent is kind enough to post up the individual segments. As she posts, I will be adding more to this until I finish it. Note that this is NOT completely “Kemetic kosher”. I am not claiming such. Its more like a meditation in first person present tense. Ish. Might want to check back here for updates, if you’re interested in this.

I watch as the sun sinks below the horizon. Into the arms of the night it falls, and I fall with it.

But She is there to catch me- Mother of Gods, She Who Is The Heavens. She gathers me in Her arms and Her Children gift me with many things; greatest of all is the assurance that They are there. They hear me, and I am so very grateful. I bask in Their regard like a pleased cat, smiling, purring. I hear Their chuckles at my delighted antics, feel the divine Hands pet my silly head. They have a gift, They say. A journey.

They lead me to a great Shining Bull. I am awestricken, for nowhere on its great silken hide is a shadow or mar. It lowers its golden head and chuffs at my face. The horns curve around my body in a strange, wondrous parody of an embrace. I dare not touch it, but it has other plans. With a gentle shove, it knocks me, turns me, and there She is- a great Face in the Sky, a Face of the Sky, with stars in Her hair and whole galaxies for Her Eyes. Her Eyes are warm, Her smile wide… wide…

Her Eyes gleam. Her Lips part. Her Throat yawns open. A great Tongue moves with horrid Design, and Her Eyes stare at me.

Oh, Mother, what big Teeth you have…

I turn, to ask, to understand, perhaps to flee. What is this? Why does She fill me with such Terror? Where has the sweet Mother gone? Her children are gone as though they never were. All that is left is the Bull.

The Bull still shines, but not safely. A touch would sear me, burn me, kill me, and it comes towards me. It snorts, and fire ripples towards me. I shy away like a frightened rabbit, dart away, but there is no where to go. No safety. Still, I run.

Too late. Too slow.

The horn pierces my back, severs my spine, explodes from my chest. A golden sword dripping rubies. And the Hungry Mother opens wide for us.

I know nothing.


I know something is wrong, but I feel… pleasant. The waters hold me, and I am content to drift, facedown, watching the ever-deepening blue beneath my body.

Am I dead? This is a most pleasant death, if that’s what it is. And yet…

My wandering fingers brush against skin not my own, and I move.

There, beside me, is a man. Or what used to be a man. His features are worn away like sea-glass, smoothed by soft, relentless tides. I should feel shock, horror, terror- all I can feel is pity.



~Who am… I…?


I flinch, floundering in the water. Though he has not moved an inch, I can almost see him recoiling. The endless sea sends gentle waves, like a mother rocking a fretful child. The imperceptible terror eases in him, and he calms.

I try again to speak with him.

~Why…? Why do you… hurt…?

~? Who? Whospeaks?

~Me… I’m… here…

~Youspeak? Youmove?

~Yes… I think…

~Nothink, nomove quietcalmstill… movehurts, nomove nohurts…

~What?… Who… who are… you…?


I’ve upset him again. I let the undulating waves carry me away from him, even as they rock him back to silence. I look at the cloudy sky, and wonder.

“They’re all like that, you know.”

The low, musical voice startles me. I thrash around, looking for the owner of the voice. My hands grab water, and a broad back slides between my legs. With a snort, my mount stands up, out of the water, and shakes itself.

It is a bull.

Made of water.

A dull memory tickles the back of my mind, warning of danger, but it is lost under the bull’s words. I try to speak, but my mouth is shut. I can’t even whisper, as I did with the floating man.

“It gets rather lonely here, sometimes. So few of them even think to try. The ones that do rarely succeed, for fear of failure. So they lay there.” It’s great sides heave with a sigh. “She takes care of them, eases the pain and the nightmares, but She can’t make them do what needs to be done. Only they can do that.”

The head curves and I stare into a great sea-green eye. “You may be wondering why I can talk, and you can not.” I nod frantically.

Its eye crinkles with good humor. “I would expect so. You see, little one, you are… between states at the moment. You aren’t as you were, yet you aren’t as they are. Quite.” It huffs. “And you are hardly yet where, or who, you need to be. And if I help you overmuch, you won’t get there at all.”

It sighs again. The eye blinks solemnly.

I notice that we’ve stopped moving, though the scenery hardly seems any different. Slowly, so slowly it hardly registers at first, the bull starts sinking.

I try to hang on, but there is nothing but foam and water. Its voice floats around me, a last whisper in my mind.

~Remember child… Find what you lost… or stay as you are. The choice is forever yours…