Exhaustion.
The Egyptian Goddess of Death had worked nonstop the entire human week. So many dead poured into her temple, many with the marks of other gods on them... Chaos... Panic... Fear.
She could feel her Greek counterparts working just as hard as she, bringing the dead over... Sorting them out... But unlike some, Nephthys was a comforter as well. Not only did she lead them to their afterlives, she did her best to soothe them, to try to make them accept their lot. They were all dead. They had to let go.
Her job was much more difficult when the spirits of the dead clung tightly to those of the living. There was one sweet Indonesian girl, weeping and weeping... Nephthys could see her soul linked to a man who yet lived. He was bending over her water-swollen body. Together, their souls were crying, "Is this the future we had planned? I am nothing without you." When Nephthys looked at the girl, she saw the living man inside her. It made her weep as well, but she did what was necessary. She separated them.
Children... Cousins... Sweethearts... She separated them all, trying hard not to break in the sorrow she felt.
Not all of the sorrow was theirs, however. Those words that Harmonia and Ares spoke were still haunting her... She couldn't believe... She wouldn't believe... Not Hephaestus... Not gentle Hephaestus.
And so she had thrown herself into her work until she was exhausted, until she was past exhaustion. Only when she realized that she was doing a very bad job, and creating ghosts left and right, did she withdraw from her temple.
Nearly blindly, she stumbled out of her domain, the dark miasma of lost souls clinging to her form as she walked. She murmured Hephaestus' name, over and again, her feet taking her toward the Greek quarter. She needed him, she needed his presence, and his comfort. And she needed to know what exactly the truth was.
Her eyes fell on Ares' temple. How had she gotten here? She wasn't going here! Passing her hand over her face, she backed away, the souls around her crying out for their lost ones, for their loves.
She could feel her Greek counterparts working just as hard as she, bringing the dead over... Sorting them out... But unlike some, Nephthys was a comforter as well. Not only did she lead them to their afterlives, she did her best to soothe them, to try to make them accept their lot. They were all dead. They had to let go.
Her job was much more difficult when the spirits of the dead clung tightly to those of the living. There was one sweet Indonesian girl, weeping and weeping... Nephthys could see her soul linked to a man who yet lived. He was bending over her water-swollen body. Together, their souls were crying, "Is this the future we had planned? I am nothing without you." When Nephthys looked at the girl, she saw the living man inside her. It made her weep as well, but she did what was necessary. She separated them.
Children... Cousins... Sweethearts... She separated them all, trying hard not to break in the sorrow she felt.
Not all of the sorrow was theirs, however. Those words that Harmonia and Ares spoke were still haunting her... She couldn't believe... She wouldn't believe... Not Hephaestus... Not gentle Hephaestus.
And so she had thrown herself into her work until she was exhausted, until she was past exhaustion. Only when she realized that she was doing a very bad job, and creating ghosts left and right, did she withdraw from her temple.
Nearly blindly, she stumbled out of her domain, the dark miasma of lost souls clinging to her form as she walked. She murmured Hephaestus' name, over and again, her feet taking her toward the Greek quarter. She needed him, she needed his presence, and his comfort. And she needed to know what exactly the truth was.
Her eyes fell on Ares' temple. How had she gotten here? She wasn't going here! Passing her hand over her face, she backed away, the souls around her crying out for their lost ones, for their loves.