[Liem's feet take him quickly through the familiar surrounds of the ruined temple, drawing him deeper until he is standing once again in the inner sanctum, staring at Set's back as the god touches the folds of the giant statue's gown. The air here feels heavier than in the antechamber, pregnant with a power that has lain undisturbed for centuries. It weighs on his lungs and sticks in his throat, lending the scene before him a hypnotic air.
Though the defaced statue holds no meaning for him, the significance with which it was created has not disappeared. It only lies hidden.
For a moment he lingers at the edge of the room, still caught up in witnessing Set’s revelation. Of Isis he knows barely more than a name and title. It would not have occurred to him to see her here; but for Set, her likeness must be a reflection of family, for better or for worse. And still, the reasons for the temple’s presence here in Kenos remain a mystery, to anyone except perhaps Yima.
He feels Set reach for him an instant before his tempest engulfs his mind, boundless and unrelenting. He has to force himself not to flinch at the stinging, biting wildness of him, has to resist the urge to shut his mind up tight and force him out. In the face of Set’s hungry, savage curiosity, the covetous wind of his affection, the scouring sand of his anger, the billowing dark of his loneliness, Liem is a steadily-glowing candle that resolutely refuses to go out.
He walks forward to stand beside the red-haired god, joining him before the statue of Isis, and there, he reaches for his hand.]
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Though the defaced statue holds no meaning for him, the significance with which it was created has not disappeared. It only lies hidden.
For a moment he lingers at the edge of the room, still caught up in witnessing Set’s revelation. Of Isis he knows barely more than a name and title. It would not have occurred to him to see her here; but for Set, her likeness must be a reflection of family, for better or for worse. And still, the reasons for the temple’s presence here in Kenos remain a mystery, to anyone except perhaps Yima.
He feels Set reach for him an instant before his tempest engulfs his mind, boundless and unrelenting. He has to force himself not to flinch at the stinging, biting wildness of him, has to resist the urge to shut his mind up tight and force him out. In the face of Set’s hungry, savage curiosity, the covetous wind of his affection, the scouring sand of his anger, the billowing dark of his loneliness, Liem is a steadily-glowing candle that resolutely refuses to go out.
He walks forward to stand beside the red-haired god, joining him before the statue of Isis, and there, he reaches for his hand.]