Author Games: The River of Night

Finals: Ramia Gamal

Ra lay on a bed of stone, his body trembling with each pitiful breath his failing lungs pulled in. Even from a distance, Ramia could see the immense pain that plagued the sun god. Her eyes remained fixated on his body, her feet planted firmly on the floor, unable to step closer. His hand clutched tightly over his heart, muscles tensing and relaxing with each wave of agony that washed over his frail body. Everything in her stopped her from going to the god's side, although she knew his life was ending Ramia could not bring herself to do so much as breathe upon him. The strength had left his grasp, the strong color of his life flooding the air in a desperate attempt to leave his body. He was no bigger than a man, with no more strength than a newborn child.

Footsteps filled her ears, not the heavy and threatening steps of Apophis but the tired treading of her companions as they filled the rooms. Ramia did not meet their gazes, even as they stepped closer to Ra than she could. Is this all that remains? She asked herself, counting the number of bodies that filled the room. A child, a thief, myself and-- At last, her head moved, cast towards the open doorway just in time to see a bowed and wizened woman step through the threshold. And Ife. Relief flooded her bones when the older woman caught her gaze. Ife placed her hand on Ramia's shoulder, concern in her tired eyes. The hint of a smile flickered across her lips for the smallest of moments.

Ramia opened her mouth to speak, but the voice of Ra drowned out her own. "My children." The sound of his words filled her ears, little more than a rasp. Without hesitation, her eyes returned to the god who lay dying before them. There was pain in his eyes, a desperation in each gasping wheeze that left his throat. Slowly, they stepped forward, surrounding the edge of the bed. Ramia was the last to join, her hesitation stalling her feet. "I cannot heal from these wounds." The words sent a chill down her spine, dread settling in the pit of her stomach. Something is going to happen, her mind screamed. This will not end easily.

Her eyes flickered to Ife, but her gaze was not returned. The older woman was focused solely on Ra, her lips pursed into a fine line. "You are the chosen. One of you must--" Something overcame him, a seize of pain that stopped his words in his throat. Instinctively, Ramia reached out, ready to protect. The hand that clutched at his heart began to relax, fingers loosening their hold until Ramia could see what they held. A golden beetle, waiting patiently between his fingers, its legs twitching in anticipation. Khepri. The dread in her stomach grew stronger. "Take the scarab," Ra commanded. "Your life will replenish my own and you will find peace in the Field of Reeds." Glances were cast around the group as the weight of Ra's words began to settle. "Hurry. My body grows weaker with each breath, and little time remains."

The beetle crawled from between Ra's fingers, its body moving furiously fast as it climbed up to rest on the top of his hand. It watched them from its perch, black eyes shining. For a moment, there was silence. Ramia couldn't tear her eyes away from the small insect. One of us must die. One of us must die for the world to survive. For Ra to survive.

"I'll do it."

The voice that spoke first was a small one, yet the bravery it held was enough to snap Ramia's head up. She watched as a small hand reached for the scarab, only to be smacked away by the thief. "Don't be ridiculous," he said, his voice cold and aloof. "You're a child-- there's too much ahead of you." One of us must die. "I'll do it." These people have lives. They have families and loved ones. It would be an honor to die for my gods. Ramia lurched forward, scooping the small creature into her hand before he had time to move. "Hey--"

Ramia pulled her hand back towards her chest as the eyes of the group turned to her. "Touch it," she warned, a growling edge to her voice, "and I'll break your hand." One of us must die. It should be me. With the next word spoken, the room erupted into argument, each side trying to be louder than the rest as Ramia protected the scarab in her closed fingers. The volume steadily rose, her face flushing with color as words flew and hands snatched.