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I wonder if posting snippets of what I'm working on will help me focus more on writing. It's sad that when I've run out of intrinsic motivation, I need shots of extrinsic ones to keep going.

From chapter 3 of Looking Back in Retrospective (OMG, need title change so bad!)

Child of Kul Elna, you wish to take the life of the Horus incarnate. I can give you that power.

He jerked in surprise and drew his dagger. "Who's there?"

Come. The single word reverberated with great power and greater compulsion.

The spirits urged Bakura forward, bursting with something akin to excitement and glee. He went straight past his favorite hideout and the almost-dry well in the center of town. He soon found himself on the edge of the village, and froze at the top of a flight of stairs leading down into darkness. He was suddenly seized by childhood memories of long shadows and a cauldron of gleaming gold.

These were once images that haunted his nightmares, but they only filled him with hatred for Atem now.

As he descended the stairs, the spirits of the villagers fell back. Like the rest of the village, this underground chamber was completely devoid of sound and life. Some sunlight crept in through the holes in the roof overhead, enough so that he could make out the general shape and size of the room.

Come closer.

The voice was louder now and originated straight ahead from the other side of the chamber. He plunged forth into the dim gray; his heart racing with anticipation. In his haste, he nearly tripped on the first step of a dais. Lying in the center of the dais was a sculpture shaped like a sarcophagus, and several strangely shaped holes were hollowed out of the stone.

Bakura rearranged his grip on his dagger's hilt and licked his chapped lips, "Show yourself."

A cloud of darkness rose up from the stone sarcophagus, causing Bakura to take several steps back. The cloud gathered in the air, without features or even a coherent shape. "You would dare make demands of your God?"

"Curse the gods," Bakura spat with venom.

"You need only answer my question, child of Kul Elna," two slits of yellow and a maw of gray opened within the mass of darkness. "Do you wish for the power to kill the morning star?"

His heart skipped a beat before he answered, "More than anything I could want in this life or the afterlife."

"Then you shall have it."

The cloud surged forward, flooding into Bakura's body through every orifice. He could feel the chilling darkness slithering up his nose, down his throat, and in through his ears. But there was no pain or fear. His mind and the thought of his mission burned ever brighter, filling him with an energy and power he had never known before.


There's something aggravating about trying to write historical fiction, especially Ancient Egyptian. The names by which we commonly know the gods of the Egyptian religion are largely Greek/Roman adaptations. While I am mostly okay with using the more common names for the gods, I seem to have trouble doing the same with names of cities and other locations (see Waset -> Thebes -> Luxor).
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Alecto Perdita

June 2015

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