٢٥: ZIARA

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       There was so much blood; Ziara was certain that the Nile ran red from it.

        She rose to her knees, panicking. Her arm trembled in front of her, disappointed but not surprised that the fire did nothing for her. The scene played out exactly as how Abraxas had shown her with Akhenaten.

      The face was destroyed to eradicate their identity and ability to communicate in the Duat, the chest was pried open so the heart could be removed and replaced by a stone. For a moment, Ziara thought she was still under Abraxas' hallucination.

       The tears spilt over as she watched the knife repeatedly come down. Despite having her being ripped apart, Ziara stood and cast her arms wide; she couldn't withhold her anger anymore. Carn immediately dropped the knife as it radiated with a blistering heat. The surrounding Sons of Horus screamed and yelled as their weapons melted and left them with severe burns.

       Hatem tossed his bow aside and rubbed at the reddening flesh on his palm.

       The torches ignited again in response to Carn's laughter, taking to Harry Massit's body with his hands.

       Ziara screamed again, feeling the blood drip from her nose.

       Suddenly, a dark void enthralled her arms and torso. It felt like a thousand needle pricks against her flesh, but it was almost welcoming, it distracted her from the macabre in front of her. A familiar bandaged hand covered her mouth and nose, "Enough."

       Ziara tried to kick him in the crotch but Anuka tightened his grip around her waist, constricting her.

       He hissed gruffly in her ear, "I know you would prefer the tall, dark and handsome Head Son instead. . .but it would be a help if you didn't try and get yourself killed, I still have to name that reward for our deal."

        She bit down harshly on his hand, drawing blood, "I'm sick of the Sons of Anubis deciding when they get to play God."

       What I hate is the man who calls himself God.

       Ziara was fuming, she could feel the heat build beneath her cheeks and radiate over her body as if she were going to implode. She wanted to reach down Carn's throat and pull Abraxas out by his tongue, she wanted someone to comprehend the crushing guilt splitting her chest in two—there was only so much one person could handle.

      Anuka blocked a pulse of air with a wall of linen, "It was too late, from the moment we were given life, your father's fate was sealed. Prophecies are inevitable and unavoidable, we have to make a choice in the future—Seth or Abraxas, he had to rise."

      "I had a choice," Ziara's nails dug into her palms. "I should have left Patrick to rot in that alcove forever or killed him, but some naïve part of me thought I could cheat this. . .I thought he wouldn't betray me. I had a choice. . ."

      The torch flames darkened to a purple hue and with each rotation of the fiery pillars, grey hieroglyphs spewed from the smoke. The glyphs floated around the circle, bearing Abraxas' seal. They reminded Ziara of the multicoloured sigils at Hermopolis but these were far from harmless. Carn was about to break the Forbidden Art.

     "Get the Sons out of here," the atmosphere was disturbed. Ziara pushed at his chest. "Anuka, do it. This is on me; I have to end this myself."

      Anuka growled low in his throat at her defiance. Linen curled around her arms and legs as she walked towards Carn. With each step she took, the bandages caught fire and were reduced to ash.

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