HP: Spirit Talker

In the middle of the hot desert, a woman with dark skin and a very successful mixture of Arab and European blood appeared. She had come to her senses after the events in the torturer's mansion, and her first thought was that her behavior had bored her masters, and they had decided to execute the slave in such a cruel way, or to teach her a lesson.

She shifted her gaze sharply to the rustling beside her, and the next thing she knew she was holding the most precious thing in her life — her five-year-old daughter, Moswen.

As her maternal feelings faded, the woman worried for her daughter, for she did not deserve to be executed, and she would not be thrown away — it was not for nothing that the Keymnwati had gone to great lengths to destroy the last vestiges of her family and capture the last of the women.

But no sooner had she formed a theory than Netikerti noticed a cloud of thick smoke gathering a few paces away from them, and in the next instant it turned into a tall, thin man with pale green skin. The woman recognized the guest immediately, so she knelt down and bowed.

Her daughter did not understand a word and continued to look curiously at the strange man, the likes of whom she had never seen before. Fate had smiled upon Moswen, and the owners seemed to have forgotten she even existed, so the girl grew up in a somewhat isolated but not dangerous corner of the estate.

— My God! — the woman said with joy and immense respect, not daring to raise her eyes.

— Stand up, child. — whispered a voice that Netikerti could not resist, and she raised her head, but did not rise from her knees. God was satisfied. — Rejoice, children, the Great Ptah has not forgotten his children, it is time to revive the Order and those who keep it. — The expression on the God's face was not overly pathos or spiritualized, just confident and benevolent. — Moswen, — Osiris shifted his dark eyes to a girl with blonde hair the color of ripe wheat and black eyes. — Come here.

The girl looked at her mother and silently asked for permission. This was something the child had learned since she could walk, for in the house of those who worshipped the Dark Gods, danger could lurk around every corner, and a simple childish curiosity could turn into pain or even tragedy. After receiving silent permission, Moswen approached the tall man in the ancient crown. He leaned toward the girl and took one of her hands in his broad palm.

— An incredible destiny awaits you, child. You will remind the peoples of the old gods. You will carry my word to those who live in the rays of Amon-Ra. — The expression in the god's eyes changed slightly, but he continued to look into the girl's eyes. — It will be hard for you, but your mother will help you on your journey. And she is not the only one. — Osiris moved his head to the side, and the mother and daughter who followed his gaze saw a group of unconscious people they had not noticed before. — And here you will live and listen to my word.

Osiris turned to the high dunes. Stretching out his long, thin arm, the god lightly moved the brush that made the sand seem to come alive, shifting to the side and revealing a view of the temple complex of white stone that glowed brightly in the sunlight. When the dunes completely disappeared, the god moved his hand slightly to the side and plants began to appear in a large flat area the size of a football field, like mushrooms after rain.

In a matter of seconds, palm trees literally jumped out of the sand, lush shrubs swelled with green all around them, and a large lake of crystal clear water spilled over in the center. The garlands of lush flowers were so beautiful that tears ran down the mother's cheeks: only now could she accept the fact that her nightmare was over, they were saved, and the future was not as dark as it had seemed before.

At the same time, four more gods appeared in different parts of the ancient kingdom. Each of them spoke very similar words and performed similar actions. Somewhere here, a slim, athletic girl with short hair and two sharp cat ears pierced with golden earrings was crouching. Her hands rest on the shoulders of the two twin girls. The golden cat's eyes of the goddess look at her chosen ones cheerfully and with warm care. And the girls respond with the inquisitive gazes of kittens.

Elsewhere, a tall, muscular warrior in a lion's helmet stands proudly before two teenagers. Two curved daggers with rich hilt are attached to his broad belt. The warrior's golden skin is clothed with well-developed muscle reliefs. The teenagers gaze at their god with admiration and determination.

Elsewhere, in the shade of a pavilion, a not-so-tall woman with a broad figure and voluptuous forms sits on a wide bench. In front of her were three pregnant women and two young men. A friendly and loving motherly smile never leaves the face of the goddess, who looks fifty years old.

Among the stone dungeons, whose dark corridors are lit by the smokeless white cold flames of torches, a tall man in a bird mask with a long, thin beak strolls leisurely. His unhurried speech captivates the trio following him. The god's fluid, mesmerizing gestures point to individual rooms or shelves of the largest library in this part of the world. And above them, in the above-ground section of the Forbidden Temple, other humans, former slaves of the Dark Family, are slowly coming to their senses.

In all five temples, the former slaves, now chosen servants and companions of the Chosen Gods, are cautiously studying their surroundings, fearful that this is yet another mockery of their masters. Their sick minds and souls are being healed of terrible wounds, but even with sober minds it is hard not to doubt such radical changes. What if it's all an illusion, a deception to cause them more pain from their shattered hopes? The children and their parents did not immediately notice that the color of the Chosen Children's eyes changed in an instant to match the color of their god's power.

Change is coming to the land of Egypt, but it will be at least a decade and a half before the first people hear the first words of the new priests. Until then, the chosen will live in the forbidden temples and shrines of their gods, filled with knowledge and riches, protected from all who are not invited by the god to these places.

At the same time, there was an uproar in all the rich and powerful families of Egypt. They had all been marrying allies for centuries to make and strengthen alliances and treaties, so magicians, sorcerers and witches, even slaves, died in every clan. Some of everyone's slaves disappeared, as did some of their children. But that, if anything, interested the heads of these families, much less the news that the temples, palaces, and lands of one of the richest families in Egypt and the neighboring lands had simply vanished.

The best of the best tried to find even a trace of them, but they were unsuccessful. For many centuries, "friends" and "allies" had been desperately jealous and eager to get their hands on ancient relics and scrolls of secret knowledge. And now that everyone knew of the Keimnveti's death, the news that their treasures could not be plundered was devastating. But this did not prevent a new feud from erupting over the redistribution of power and influence.

The gods, who had long since lost their power, barely survived by hiding in secret tombs where some of their relics were still intact. This allowed them to save themselves, not to perish, but to fulfill their duties, which the Egyptian gods could not do due to the peculiarities of these lands.

Men and gods were intertwined here in the beginning more than anywhere else. The gods possessed power and authority, embodied the miracles of controlling elements and spheres, but only as long as the people believed in them, whose prayers allowed the gods to maintain order and stability, equilibrium.

None of the five most powerful of the surviving gods were responsible for what had happened, they didn't try to pull the strings of probability or the fates of humans. No, there was no such thing. What they had were the words of the Elder God, Ptah, warning them that one day they would have a chance, and if they missed it, they would never be saved. When the Keimnvati family altar began to crack, the accumulated power began to spill outward — a sign to the five gods.

At the moment of the altar's destruction, the gods, five of them, managed to absorb some of the power, which allowed them to save some of the people, including their young priests and priestesses, as well as their companions. This gave each of the five a serious chance for the future, especially since they would now act in alliance.