The evening sky had turned the color of bruised lotus petals by the time Kael-Ankh returned to the shrine. The first star—Sopdet, herald of inundation—had just appeared low above the western hills, a single bright pinprick against deepening indigo. Smoke from the brazier inside the sanctuary carried the sharp, resinous scent of myrrh mingled with cedar oil.
Ptahhotep waited exactly where Kael had left him hours earlier, seated cross-legged before the low altar. A new papyrus sheet lay unrolled beside him, already marked with several neat columns of black hieratic signs. Two small oil lamps burned steadily on either side, their wicks trimmed low so the flames gave steady, golden light without much smoke.
The elder did not look up immediately. He finished tracing a final protective cartouche around the edge of the sheet, then set the reed stylus aside.
"You are punctual," he said. "Good. The gods dislike tardiness almost as much as they dislike arrogance."
Kael bowed slightly and knelt on the rush mat opposite the old priest.
"Sit properly," Ptahhotep corrected without looking at him. "Back straight. Hands resting palm-up on your thighs. Breath even. You are not a supplicant begging favor; you are a vessel learning to hold power."
Kael adjusted his posture. The bronze dagger at his belt felt heavier now, a reminder that this was no longer theory.
Ptahhotep finally met his eyes.
"Before we speak words of power, you must understand what heka truly is. Not the child's tales told around cooking fires, but the truth beneath."
He gestured to the central statue of Ptah.
"Heka is the first breath Ra exhaled when Nun's waters parted. It is the force that makes is become what was not. It is older than the gods themselves—older than Atum's self-creation. Every netjer draws from it. Every mortal who knows the proper names and gestures can touch it. But most touch only the surface, like children splashing at the river's edge."
He tapped the papyrus.
"You, however, carry something different. Your Ka arrived already… tuned. Like a harp strung with strings from another orchestra. Tonight we begin restringing it to Kemet's music."
Kael felt the scarab at his belt pulse once—warm agreement.
Ptahhotep continued.
"To wield heka you need three things:
1. Knowledge of the true name or form.
2. Intent shaped like a blade.
3. Breath—the bridge between Ka and flesh."
He lifted his own hands, palms up.
"Watch."
He breathed in slowly through his nose, held for four heartbeats, then exhaled through slightly parted lips while speaking a single word:
"Per."
A soft white light bloomed in the center of his right palm—no larger than a coin at first, then expanding to the size of a child's fist. It hovered there, steady, cool, illuminating the wrinkles and veins without casting harsh shadows.
"This is the simplest call: light without fire. Mothers use a softer version to find lost children at night. Priests use it to read papyri in tombs. You will begin here."
He let the light fade.
"Now you. Speak only the word. Do not force it. Invite it."
Kael closed his eyes for a moment, centering himself. He remembered the elder's breathing pattern—four heartbeats hold, slow release. He mirrored it.
Then, softly:
"Per."
Nothing.
He felt foolish. The word hung in the air like an awkward guest.
Ptahhotep's voice was patient but firm.
"You spoke it with your mouth. Speak it with your Ka."
Kael tried again. This time he pictured the light—not as magic, but as something familiar: photon emission, electromagnetic radiation in the visible spectrum, energy made visible through intent. He layered that image over the word.
"Per."
A faint spark flickered in his palm—gone in an instant.
Ptahhotep nodded once.
"Better. You reached, but you grabbed instead of opening your hand. Again."
They repeated the exercise seven times. On the eighth attempt the spark lasted half a second longer. On the twelfth a small, unsteady glow appeared—pale gold, trembling like a candle in wind, but real.
Kael stared at it, breathing hard.
System Notification – Status Update
Name: Kael-Ankh
Tier: 0.4 → 0.6 (Nascent Ka – Awakening Phase)
Core Attributes:
• Physical Strength: 12 (above average mortal baseline)
• Agility: 11
• Endurance: 13
• Perception: 15 (+2 from reincarnated awareness)
• Willpower: 17 (primary stat – rising rapidly)
• Heka Capacity: 28/100 (increased +18 from scarab resonance and first structured invocation)
• Mythos Absorption Efficiency: 1.4× (bonus from modern analytical mindset)
• Current Known Invocations: • Minor Protective Barrier (scarab-derived) – Duration: 12 seconds, Strength: Weak • Basic Luminescence (heka word: Per) – Output: Candle-level, Duration: 4 seconds, Stability: Unstable
Progress Note: First priest-guided heka invocation completed. +8 Heka Capacity. Unlocked rudimentary control over visible-spectrum manifestation.
The notification appeared in his inner vision like translucent golden text floating just behind his eyelids—silent, unobtrusive, yet impossible to ignore. It vanished when he blinked twice.
Ptahhotep watched the play of emotion across Kael's face.
"You see something," the elder said quietly. "Not with mortal eyes."
Kael hesitated, then decided partial truth was safest.
"When I succeed… words appear. Like a scribe's record inside my mind. They show numbers, changes, what I have gained."
Ptahhotep leaned forward, intrigued.
"Describe them."
"Strength. Agility. Endurance. Perception. Willpower. Something called Heka Capacity. And… progress notes."
The elder was silent for several heartbeats.
"Then the gods—or something wearing their mask—have given you a ledger of the soul. Rare. Dangerous. Useful." He smiled thinly. "Use it wisely. Do not let it rule you."
He rose and moved to the side wall, retrieving a small wooden box inlaid with faience tiles.
"Since you see numbers, let us give them something worth measuring."
From the box he took a thin strip of papyrus, no wider than two fingers, perhaps a cubit long. On it were drawn seven concentric circles, each divided into segments like a sundial. At the center sat a tiny drawing of an ankh crossed with a was-scepter.
"This is a heka gauge," Ptahhotep explained. "Place your palm over the center. Speak the word again. The ink will respond to your Ka."
Kael did as instructed. The moment his hand covered the central ankh, the papyrus warmed. Thin lines of blue-green light began to crawl outward along the segments.
First ring filled halfway.
Second ring one-third.
Third ring barely a sliver.
The gauge stopped.
Ptahhotep studied it.
"Twenty-eight parts out of one hundred. Consistent with what your inner scribe shows you, yes?"
Kael nodded.
"Good. You are no longer splashing at the river's edge. You have stepped into the current."
The elder sat again.
"Now we add intent. Light alone is a child's toy. Light with purpose becomes a tool."
He demonstrated once more. This time, as the glow formed in his palm, he spoke a second word:
"Ia netjer."
The light sharpened—became a narrow beam, bright enough to cast distinct shadows on the wall behind Kael. Ptahhotep directed it like a pointer, illuminating first one statue, then another.
"Intent shapes. Words direct. Breath carries. Combine them."
Kael tried.
"Per… ia netjer."
His glow flickered, tried to narrow, then collapsed into sparks that fizzled out.
Ptahhotep did not mock.
"Too much force again. You are trying to command instead of guide. Once more—but slower."
They practiced until the oil in the lamps had burned low. Kael managed a wavering beam that lasted almost three seconds before it diffused back into a soft orb.
Sweat beaded on his forehead despite the cool night air.
System Notification – Skill Progress
New Invocation Variant Unlocked:
• Directed Luminescence (heka phrase: Per ia netjer)
• Output: Focused beam (weak)
• Range: 2–3 cubits
• Duration: 3 seconds (unstable)
• Heka Cost: 4 per use Heka Capacity: 28 → 36/100 (+8 from repeated practice) Willpower: 17 → 18 (+1 from sustained focus under fatigue)
Ptahhotep closed the gauge box.
"Enough for one night. You learn fast—too fast. That worries me."
He placed a hand on Kael's shoulder—firm, not gentle.
"Tomorrow at dawn you return. We begin binding shadow. Small shadows first. Never forget: every light you call casts darkness somewhere else. Balance is Ma'at. Imbalance invites Set."
Kael bowed deeply.
"Thank you, honored teacher."
Ptahhotep waved him away.
"Go. Sleep. Dream lightly. The Duat watches those who walk both worlds."
Kael stepped out into the night. The village had gone quiet save for the occasional bark of a dog and the soft lap of the Nile against reeds. Stars filled the sky like scattered faience beads.
He touched the scarab, then the dagger.
Current Status Summary (Inner Ledger View):
• Tier: 0.6 (Nascent Ka – Awakening Phase)
• Heka Capacity: 36/100
• Known Invocations: 2
• Mythos Fragments Absorbed: 1 (Scarab of Khepri – Renewal & Protection)
• Primary Stat Growth: Willpower leading (+1 tonight)
He smiled into the darkness—small, fierce, determined.
The myths were no longer stories on papyrus.
They were code.
And he was learning to debug them.