NORMALLY WHEN IT CAME to those of divinity, Ramses was forever polite unless given a reason to be otherwise, and though a part of himself understood that this goddess of death was only doing her job and this circumstance was by no means a personal vendetta against him, such did not mean he couldn’t feel telltale signs of loathing towards her regardless. What else was he supposed to feel? Acceptance? What parent in their right mind would feel this way when someone threatened the life of their child? Goddess or not, they would want to fight tooth and nail even if victory was an impossible cord to grasp. Her anger was stifling and certainly would have frightened a lesser man, but Ramses was nothing of that sort. He would not back down even if Ra stood before him and told him to.
How could Ramses be punished for crimes his father committed when he was a child? Arrogance and pride made him turn his nose up at Moses; disgusted by his attempts at elevating his own god over his and neither able to see eye to eye. To Ramses, there was no reason for him to turn his gaze towards those who looked to the sky and pleaded for someone to save them from their suffering. After all, they weren’t his people, and therefore, not worth his time and attention. Pride was his sin—the deadliest of them all for it blinded that individual from truth and ability to see. Even now, he failed to see what it was that this goddess attempted to tell him. ❝Why should I bow my head to another god? A god that dares spit in the face of my own?!❞
Ramses had acted as a pharaoh was meant to! However, as easily as his rage grew to dangerous levels, as if water had been tossed onto the flames within his heart, it all fizzled away at Death’s words.
‘Your son is the last remaining.’
She had left his son for last? Such gave him mixed feelings, but neither of them necessarily good. That felt…like a cruelty to him, a means to prolong his pain no different from a knife shoved into a side and twisted violently. Mesektet fell from his fingers upon the ground with a clang, expression one of deep anguish as he stepped closer. ❝D-Do not take him!❞ Please! That word wished to spill from his lips as he held his hand out, the pleading in his voice much more prominent as emotions began to heighten and overwhelm him.
She vaguely registered the sound of the staff clanking onto the ground, focused on his words. Was it finally sinking in? Was he beginning to understand what was about to happen? For his sake it should, not that it mattered now. She had come to do this deed and this was the final stretch before she took her leave from this land. For now at least.
❝ For the arrogance you have showed me tonight, I should wake your son, rip his head off, crush his skull and spew his blood and brains over you. ❞ Her hand slid, a finger pressing lightly on the child’s lips. ❝ I will not lie to you and say that I am sorry. This is simply the duty that was given to me and I am here to perform it. Nothing more nothing less. ❞
If she was a crueler being, she would have already done so and moved on. While certainly capable, she was not here to spill blood. This last death will not be different. As her finger pulled away, the boy breathed for the last time, chest settling down. The last candle was snuffed out.
Slowly she turned around, walking towards the Pharaoh. Leaning down, she picked up the staff he had dropped, offering back to him. Dark eyes challenged gold, voice calm and steady. He needed to hear these words. ❝ All actions have consequences Ramses and while you are a God King, you are NOT exempt from them. Sometimes innocents, those who had nothing to do with this are caught in the crossfire. And sometimes it’s the people you most care for that pay the price. ❞