It takes quite some effort to refrain from grumbling, and several stern reminders to himself that he will only appear childish by performing such an immature gesture. Instead, the Lord of Two Lands scoffed softly. At the very least, the Scribe of Ma’at has ceased in his delightful choice in commentary, and that is more than enough of a blessing in itself.
Once he stands firm and Thoth withdraws his hand to instead grasp his shoulder, both of Horus’s own fall to his sides. No need to draw further attention to the injury inflicted upon him, it would heal in due time. After all, they were gods, and they were within the Duat, in an eternity where time did not exist.
“Hmph. I wonder sometimes, with how sharp your tongue proves to be. As sharp as your blade, apparently.”
A passing observation, but not one he intends to bring further attention to, and soon after–He ever so slightly regrets not doing so. Folding his arms, the gold that adorns him glimmering the eternal light that fills this area of Aaru–Horus grew silent. It was true, of course, no matter how much he loathes that fact so deeply to his core that he feels an inkling of concern that it may one day cloud his judgment.
Thoth was stronger than him in this domain; far stronger than he, who was younger and still learning to grasp this power that belonged to Ra. This was the god who had created language itself, and co-wrote every piece of literature in existence. How was he meant to compare, a small voice in the back of his head offered?
Horus promptly crushed that thought with extreme prejudice.
“It is the same as always, Thoth. I always seek to better myself and to surpass those who came before me. Surely you agree that such a way of thinking is something to be praised.”
Geb, Osiris, Ra–He was the Lord of Kings and Gods, he could not continue to allow others to best him. ….But, it was hardly the sole reason. On the contrary, it was not merely duty that acted as motivation for the falcon, but something far more personal. It is only a matter of time before Dhejuty himself gives voice to the truth, and so he decides to bring this to a full stop himself and be forthcoming.
“–My father, the Good Shepherd. He can beat you, can he not. Even while within the Duat, he is able to meet your blows with ease.”
“If nothing else, surely I should exceed the expectations placed upon me, do you not agree?” For what was a sharp tongue without also biting wit? Though should his memory serve, and he was certain his mind alone would never fail him, it was not sharpness of tongue that gained him a title--it was sweetness of tongue. A point to make at a later date when titles had been alluded to and so were more relevant to the topic at hand.
The passage of time was such a wonder, it was the cause of thought often when Thoth found himself with Horus. It was not so much that he could not see the young god as anything but a child, in fact, it may simply be because he wished for history to be known and to be readily available to all who wished to study its knowledge, but whenever he thought seriously on the Falcon his mind wandered to the memories of his infancy. Those flashes of the past were a testament to how far Horus had come. It was not that he thought of the man as a child, only that he was still growing in all aspects.
This was still the beginning. There was so much more power the Pharaoh had yet to control.
There was an intensity to his gaze yet it held no malice, no conflict. It was not keen out of some need to incite another bout with Horus, there was no need, not currently. Those wise eyes were full of focus. There was no fault in the line of thinking presented to him. Surpassing the past, exceeding expectations in the future, these were ideals he could respect. It was true that imitation could be called the highest form of flattery, Thoth would argue that the desire to be better than your predecessors could also be one of the greatest forms of respect.
“I would never be one to find issue with your way of thinking: You aim to eclipse the past, not forget it. The difference is key.” Whether or not Horus had the desire within him to be praised by Thoth over this matter was a different story. As the younger God being so forthcoming with his emotions and ideas, the elder God decided to pin his own musings further consideration.
Ignorance was not what drove the Scribe to silence. Some words deserved to be given voice straight from the source; should Thoth had told Horus how he felt it may have caused tension. Some didn’t take kindly to having their personal thoughts spoken aloud by another as if they could be read like an open book. The feeling may have been akin to the reveal that they themselves were merely the book, and the person they spoke with had been uncovered as the author.
“Is that knowledge known to you or could I perhaps think that you deduced it yourself?” It was with a slight smile that those words parted from his lips, regardless of Horus’ answer he couldn’t help but feel some belated pride. There was power in having truths spoken, he was glad to have heard it. “For he is all. Lord of the Horizon, Who Created His Names, Who Has No Opponent Among The Gods, King of the Gods.”
Like a mantra titles were uttered from memory with purpose, a small feat for The Eloquent Judge. His gaze remained on Horus without any hint of shifting, his hand having removed itself from his shoulder by this point. What else had he to say, he mused, other than to confirm the suspicions raised by “his student”?
“In the Duat I fight with the same power of Ra, this is known.” A nod accompanied his words as he was only repeating truths known to Horus, only with more detail. “Rightly he has the ability to best me within the Duat, as he should. You had a perfect, simplified reason for requesting a spar. To claim victory against me here is to say you could, in theory, claim one against Ra himself. Provided this did not occur within the Duat.”
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