In the golden age of Egypt, Thoth was a god-king, his temples alive with incense and chants. The Nile mirrored his image: ibis-headed, eternal. He met Isis in a shadowed chamber, her eyes like polished obsidian, a senet board between them.

“Another tablet?” she asked, moving a piece with deliberate grace. “You hoard secrets like a dragon.”

“This one is creation itself,” Thoth said, his voice low, magnetic. “Rule with me, Isis. We’ll reshape the world.”
She leaned across the board, her breath warm against his cheek. “Let me touch it first.”

Their alliance was sealed in nights of sorcery and passion—spells woven in the dark, bodies entwined atop silken sheets. The tablet’s light bathed them, a third presence in their union. But Osiris, her husband, discovered them, his rage a tempest. Anubis, jackal-headed and silent, flanked him, claws gleaming.

“You’ve defiled my house!” Osiris roared, hurling a spear of shadow.

Thoth countered with a burst of glyphs, the air igniting. The palace trembled as magic clashed—sand turned to glass, the Nile churned red. Anubis lunged, jaws snapping, but Thoth vanished in a swirl of feathers, tablet clutched tight. He glanced back at Isis, her face unreadable. “This isn’t over,” he whispered, and the wind carried his words away.