“Being a god is being superior. It is class, distinction, and ascension all in one. I hear countless prayers and answer only those who are truly low because they need to be punished for their arrogance.” - Vel, One of Five

  ~*~

  Athia waited for the others at the center of town, a ways from the entrance. Everyone was more concerned with their work or chores to pay them any attention. There was freedom to speak without the suspicious nature of gathering at the shore. She was joined by Basim first, Bayek second, and Abasi much later.

  “I think I have found someone who can be Vel,” Athia began. “A merchant named Khnem. He stands to make a lot of money from his trade, and I’m told makes all his sales in Hammerdown - this city is like a home to him. There’s no doubt that he brokers a lot of the biggest deals and makes a fortune too.”

  “I found a gambler named Masud, who has almost supernatural luck,” Basim continued. “He stays in the upper district, but can most likely be found frequenting dice and tile games by the warehouses. Making a living from gambling…I don’t know anyone in the desert that can do that. He should stand out.”

  “Bayek, did you find someone who can be Vel?” Athia asked, noticing his moody demeanor.

  “No such luck,” was all he said.

  “Abasi, what about you?”

  Abasi took a breath.

  “A big shot in Hammerdown named Barika,” Abasi began. “He has the finest house in the upper district and can throw a fortune around like it is nothing. I don’t know where else he could be...and I’m not exactly sure which house either. Many of them stand out.”

  Bayek gave a small laugh.

  “Three Vel’s, but which one are we most sure of confronting?” Bayek asked.

  “I’d say Masud,” Basim put forward. “Anyone can make a fortune with the right mind and business savvy, but it is hard to always sway luck in your favor.”

  “Masud it is then,” Athia said. “Anyway, three is easier to-”

  Athia stopped talking the moment she saw someone walking towards them. He didn’t look anything special, but his face was as stern as could be and he locked eyes with her.

  “I think I can help you with your search,” the man started.

  “Taghi?” Basim said.

  “Yes, I overheard your conversation with Nub, I am sorry for eavesdropping, Basim,” Taghi said, bowing his head a little. “Still, I think it’s a good thing I did.’

  “Who are you?” Bayek asked, not happy to have someone else join the conversation.

  “Taghi was feeding the poor in the slums,” Basim said. “He directed me to someone who could give me information. He’s a good man.”

  “I am Vel,” Taghi said.

  “He is also Vel,” Basim repeated. “What?”

  “I am Vel, Nef told me you would be coming and I need to talk to you.”

  Bayek burst forth, grabbed Taghi by the shoulders, and took him into the nearest alley. The others followed quickly, already trying to make sense of what was happening. To Bayek, it was clear what needed to happen; they needed to get out of public view.

  Taghi didn’t struggle, which only seemed to make Bayek handle him more roughly.

  When they were all alone, Bayek released Taghi by pushing forward. They had ended up in the same small area between the buildings where Bayek’s camel was which suited him better. He knew where the sword was and quickly he could withdraw it.

  Yet, he hesitated so close to it, so he waited for something, some sign, some signal that told him to carry through, but then Athia reminded him why he hesitated.

  “Bayek, stop! I need to give him his power,” Athia said, taking the orb from her sash.

  “Woah, easy, there’s no need to do that,” Taghi said, showing panic. “I need to talk with you before you do anything.”

  “We can talk after my part is finished,” Athia told him, raising her hand and aiming the orb at a rock near Vel.

  “Wait!” Taghi shouted, but Athia threw it. Taghi leaned down in time and caught it. “Listen, listen to me. I can’t be given these powers again.”

  It seemed the energy had reached its peak, as everyone’s heart rate stuttered and the mood dropped.

  “What?” everyone said, except Taghi.

  “I-I can’t take the power back, I don’t want it anymore,” Taghi told them. “I’ve learned my lesson and I choose to stay this way. Take the power, destroy it, or do what you will with it, sever my immortality completely.”

  The silence Taghi received from the group of misfits did little to comfort him. Their looks of confusion, mingled with anger and suspicion, made him sweat more than the steam from his cooking.

  “Please, let me explain,” Taghi continued. “I know you are bound to do this, Athia, but if you let me explain, you will see why I can’t take such power and we can do this a different way.”

  Bayek was capable and willing to disarm Taghi of the orb. Taghi was not Vel without his power, it would be easy enough. Athia looked at Bayek and shook her head. Without her approval, Taghi remained and Bayek could not draw the sword and take Vel down.

  Bayek sighed and resigned himself to listening to Taghi speak, as that was what Athia wanted.

  “Taghi, we’re all ears,” Athia said.

  “I will need to tell you about my creation, what I was,” Taghi began. “It began long ago, although I will spare you the details because your friend’s eyes are making me nervous…”

  ~*~

  When I was created, my mother gave me a single purpose; to fulfill the prayers that I deemed worthy of fulfilling and so I did.

  At first, I answered all prayers with miracles and built a large following with the rich, the greedy, and the noble. I enjoyed my creations almost as much as the people who received them. Yet, I sat alone in my kingdom above it all, staring at sand and rock. No matter how pleased people were with my miracles, I found my love for them dwindling.

  Of course, offerings were the answer. Even the most greedy felt they needed to repay me for the boon they received. Yet, it was nothing I could not conjure of my own will.

  The greatest of craftsmen could not create something so luxurious as I could and I only found myself looking down on it all. The creations of man and man itself. The feats of mortals were nothing in comparison. My interest shifted from the nobles to the common thieves who robbed them.

  I took such an interest in their ways that I no longer listened to the prayers of the rich and only listened to the prayers of thieves. These were the ones that risked it all, their hands, their lives for a few coins. The drama interested me, I would give them that touch of luck that kept them going.

  Yet, it seemed pointless when I realized I kept them alive with my power. I grew bored of that as well and decided to only answer the prayers of those who interested me. It was something my brothers and sisters took to as well, as they no doubt lost interest in the plight of man.

  I did not let the people forget me, because it was their knowledge, their faith in me, that served to keep my mind from turning against man completely, although it still did.

  Those who made their fortune carried my symbol and prayed to me often, although I had no say in their deeds. It was all down to chance or their intelligence that they rose above the rest. It didn’t bother me. It was good that the successful, in all walks of life, gave their thanks to me without me raising a finger. However, their praise, their prayers, and their meaningless thanks only turned me away from them completely. The people who loved me the most bored me the most.

  So, I turned to those who hated me.

  Ah, the fools who dared call upon me when they needed me, but never out of respect. The ones who blamed me for their misfortune, as if I weaved their fate with my own two hands. I found them most deserving of my malicious attention and so I punished them. My domain is more than luck and gold, I could do whatever I wanted to make their suffering profound and sadly, that entertained me the most.

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  I ended up punishing more than I helped in my time as Vel.

  “Some are still being punished,” Athia said. “Your porcelain city twists the minds of your victims, punishes their bodies…”

  “You don’t need to tell me my crimes,” Taghi interrupted. “I see them all, every day. I cannot think of my time as a god without hating myself now, as do many who knew of Vel.”

  Yet, my time as a god reached an end. I saw my mother again, my powers flowed through, scattered across my palace floor, to be contained in this very glass sphere I hold now. After ages as a god, I was made near mortal. My powers were stripped from me, but I was unable to die. With her, I saw Sultan Atlasi, his eyes much like your friend’s.

  He hated me and to see me brought so low did little to satisfy his anger.

  As easily as my powers were taken, I was cast down. I awoke amongst men dragging me by my ankles towards a city. Oh, how I fought them until they left me to hiss at them in my ungrateful way. I may have been as powerless as a mortal and felt hunger and thirst like a mortal, but I would not think myself so low as a mortal.

  Of course, I realize now that is why my mother cast me down. She must have realized my view on those who prayed to us was...closed off, ignorant of their humanity. Or perhaps, I treated their humanity the wrong way, it makes no difference. I was conceited and most deserving of the judgment, and punishment, something I freely inflicted on the mortals who I deemed deserving.

  I don’t know how I could have reached Hammerdown alive, at first. I thought it might have been the kindness of strangers, or perhaps I had my luck still, which ensured my arrival. It matters not, because by that point, I experienced something worse than the boredom of a god; I felt like my soul was snuffed. My purpose, which I so freely accepted without thought and altered however I saw fit, was taken with my powers and I was left to find one of my choosing amongst men.

  And I couldn’t find any.

  I wanted to die, to sleep, to feel that vanishing feeling, where thoughts beyond were unattainable, as they did not exist either in that void. I wanted my spirit to be a vessel on Nef's cart, cast aside across the cosmos, although I would never know it. Yet, I could not die.

  I could feel death, I could feel the pain, the suffocation, but I could never go further, beyond that torture. I could sit at the bottom of the ocean, my lungs full and burning, but I would never drown, never decay.

  The one thing mortals had over gods, the one thing I wished so dearly to attain, was out of reach.

  It was at the depths of the ocean that I realized the lesson I needed to learn. I needed to know what it was to be mortal, I needed to live. I was surrounded by success and suffering, I felt hatred, love, and desire, and most importantly, I found the humility to look at people as equals.

  That is when my life turned around. That is when I learned how to live, to strive towards something. For years I toiled, I worked, and killed myself several times over to reach heights many dreamt of. Sometimes I took a step forward, and sometimes I took a step backward, but eventually, I had the pleasure of wealth instead of the pain of poverty.

  The feeling of being so high above the rest…I found it wanting. I felt like I had missed something. I found myself slipping once again and soon I was in the dirt where I started.

  I had no purpose, not even a personality, and no matter how high I climbed I did not find a shred of either. I could have been Sultan after years of effort and I would still feel the same way. The emotions of man are so fickle, the heart so indecisive. That’s when I learned that the chase, the discovery, the rise and fall, were all that mattered.

  Of course, it took me many years of dedicated search to realize that, to learn that lesson. Perhaps because I know I won’t die, I have found that feeling slipping away just like all the others. It didn’t stop me from changing, from understanding people. I am where I am now because of all I’ve done as a mortal and I am far better for it.

  At least, far more proud of what I have done and continue to look forward to what I do next. Feeding the poor, and helping those in need, is within my reach, though I would be lying if I said it is all I want to do for them...I owe the ones I punished so severely.

  I want to keep helping, but I’m afraid I can’t as a god. As a man, flesh, and blood, I can leave a lasting change, one that will be passed down and remembered fondly.

  ~*~

  “I still wish to die,” Taghi said, turning to face Bayek. “I just want to die a man, not a god. Preferably after as many years as this body can give me. I can’t stop you, I can only beg.”

  With his last word said on the subject, Taghi passed the orb to Athia. Athia eyed the orb, the richly colored dust still swirling within. Perhaps it moved a little quicker, and glowed a little brighter, in the presence of Taghi, but it was hard for Athia to tell.

  “Athia, you have no choice in the matter,” Bayek reminded her. “Nef watches you, you are bound to this path and must walk it.”

  “I know,” she said softly, before raising her eyes to meet Taghi’s. “You said we could do this a different way…what is it?”

  “Enough of this,” Bayek said angrily, tired of talking. He drew the shimmering sword from beneath his camel’s saddle. It was strange to look at, as if polished silver make liquid and solid. Even as a mortal, Taghi could understand what kind of weapon he had in his hands. “Don’t let him worm his way out of this. Many have suffered, my people, your people, because of-”

  “Because of Vel,” Athia said. “Not Taghi.”

  “Taghi, Vel, they are the same person! If he had his power now, you don’t think he would turn us into beetles to save his skin? Don’t trust him.”

  Taghi’s eyes were only on Bayek’s sword.

  “That sword...only a god could have made that sword,” Taghi said. “Where did you find that?”

  “Your maker isn’t too keen to see you return,” Bayek said, hatred laced every word. “Once you are whole again, this will cut you down for good. You will die today, Vel. Athia, end this.”

  “Is there another way?” Athia asked Taghi again, but Taghi was distracted with other thoughts.

  “She wishes me dead, even now,” Taghi said more to himself than to the others. “Maybe she wished to be rid of us...failed children in her eyes.”

  “Taghi, please,” Athia grabbed his arm and shook him. “What other way?”

  “I-I thought maybe one of you could take such power, I could make it so,” Taghi said. “Yet, I can see now there is a better solution. Athia, you can do as Nef instructs, and Bayek, if you still wish to use that sword, you can. I need you both to trust me, as I am at your mercy either way, I just beg that you try my way before any other.”

  Bayek’s eyes were unforgiving but softened immediately when Athia took his hand. She looked up at him and once more he saw that look that she gave him the first time they met. She was not afraid then, she wasn’t afraid now. She trusted him then to help her, she trusted him now to do the same.

  “You are a curse even the gods couldn’t think up,” Bayek said bitterly.

  ~*~

  “Are you sure this will work?” Athia asked again.

  “It will, I don’t have to be a god to know that it will,” Taghi said. “She made gods from five fingers, she will have a finger in return, with all the power she gave.”

  Upon telling the others the plan, Taghi watched them gather everything they needed, all the while preparing himself mentally for what was about to happen. Although he was sure it would work, it could only work in theory. One of the many lessons Taghi learnt as a mortal is that you can’t just will a theory into reality, so he just had to hope that everyone, especially Bayek, did their part perfectly.

  “Now, you need to be quick, Bayek,” Taghi said. “Too soon is also too late...and that would be me dead. You will see your moment and you must take it without hesitation.”

  “I grew up knowing when to strike, I won’t miss now,” Bayek said grimly, holding the godly weapon at the ready.

  Basim and Abasi stood nearby, occasionally checking the alley they blocked to make sure nobody would bother them. Yet, most of the time they stared only at Taghi, who was now as pale as a ghost, with his arm on a table they found by the wall of the house they stood behind.

  “You sure it wouldn’t be safer to take the whole arm?” Bayek asked.

  “I would rather keep it,” Taghi said, a new wave of sweat washing down his forehead at the thought. “Besides, you said you would know when to strike. Please, trust your instincts like I trust them now...I beg of you.”

  “You can never be too safe,” Bayek said grimly.

  “Stop teasing, Bayek,” Athia said.

  “I wasn’t teasing.”

  “Are you ready, Taghi?”

  “By the gods, I hope this works,” Taghi muttered.

  “Are the gods allowed to say that?” Basim asked Abasi in a whisper.

  “Who else has he left to beg?” Abasi replied.

  “Ready,” Taghi said, after taking his moment.

  Athia brought the orb down hard on a rock on the table.

  Crack!

  The orb cracked and Bayek’s sword dipped but stopped just before Taghi’s little finger. Taghi let out a little scream but stifled it quickly by putting his fist in his mouth.

  “Sorry, I forgot how these things take a few whacks,” Athia said with what should have been a comforting smile to Taghi but came off almost as nervous as him. “I will use my left arm, it’s my strongest.”

  Taghi squeaked something like ‘please do’ and nodded. Bayek lifted the sword with a little smile and waited as Athia took the rags off her right hand and wrapped them around her left.

  Once done, she raised her arm even higher. Basim and Abasi held their breath.

  “I don’t think I can watch this,” Basim said, looking away. Aida, who was standing on his shoulder on the opposite side of his head, lifted her head above his so she could watch.

  Crack!

  Athia brought it down hard enough this time, the orb completely shattered and once more, she witnessed the dust grow and swirl, directing itself straight at Taghi. In daylight, it was much easier to make out what was happening, yet there were some subtle differences Athia noticed.

  The dust did not bellow out like clouds, but instead made delicate swirls, with fanciful curls peeling off each turn. Yet, it latched onto Taghi just the same way it did Nef. Only this time, it wouldn’t get far.

  The closest part of Taghi was the little finger which he held out. Just before the dust reached the base of his hand, Bayek’s sword appeared after a shocking blur of movement. All this happened faster than he expected, but not fast enough for him to miss his chance. The dust continued to latch onto the now severed finger, unable to move further.

  Taghi had sunk to the ground, his knees giving out, and Basim’s face twisted in disgust when he peeked. Abasi simply blinked and sighed at the sight. He had seen much worse.

  There was no blood to speak of, at least, not that anyone could see. The most disturbing part of this digit separation was what happened to the finger. It moved from side to side, changing subtly, but shrinking. The finger had become that of a woman’s and then faded in a way not too dissimilar to the way Athia’s hair faded when she cut a piece off.

  Once it was gone, everyone moved together to decipher exactly what happened.

  Bayek removed the sword from the table, returning it to its place on the camel. With that done, he drew his dagger from his left side and approached a nearby torch which was still lit from the previous night.

  Athia helped Taghi onto his feet, who clutched his hand, breathing the pain away, although it didn’t seem to be working. The wound was black, but changed slowly, growing brighter.

  Everyone watched as the dark wound suddenly became more human and more red.

  “Ah…I was worried for a moment,” Taghi said slowly. “Thought it might have been too late…but, this is blood. Am I-?”

  “Yes, you are now mortal,” said Bayek simply, placing a cloth in Taghi’s mouth. He held Taghi’s wounded hand and the heated dagger, readying to press them together. “You three might want to look away.”

  And they did.