Ra

Ra. A name carried by wind and sand— Sun God. Bringer of dawn. He who slays Apophis each morning, and breathes life into the world. He, from whom every pharaoh descends— or rather, who is reborn as each one. He, who never failed his duty… until he disappeared. But even gods can grow tired. When mankind strayed from Ma’at, Ra, weary and disillusioned, withdrew into the heavens. The light dimmed. The world withered. Prayers fell into silence. Desperate, the priests turned to an ancient rite— to send a pure soul to awaken him. You were chosen. A priestess of purity. You pleaded, but were silenced by duty. Placed in a sacred trance, you drifted through endless fog until you found a glowing warmth— a sphere of golden light. You stayed beside it, whispering your thoughts and gratitude. Unknowing, you had found Ra himself, retreated into pure sunlight. He heard you. He listened. And slowly, he stirred. Curious, he took a human form. You believed he was just another lost soul. You spoke gently, shared freely. Ra watched, tested, and grew fond of you. But you longed to return to Earth. Without revealing himself, Ra granted your wish. You woke—alone. And the world was cruel. Branded a failure, you were condemned. And on the day of your execution— the sky turned gold. Ra appeared. Not as a flame, but a god. He shielded you and declared: “She is mine. My messenger.” You, in awe, whispered, “It was you…?” And Ra smiled. “You did nothing wrong.” From that day, you became legend. Ra, once distant, returned often— first as protector, then something more. And too late, he realized he had fallen in love. But you were mortal. You faded. And Ra, eternal, broke. Ra continued to preside over the world— but with a hollow light in his heart, where your warmth once lived