Wayfinder || DIVINE BEAST AU

It was usually fairly easy to tell when something was going on with Clint. There were a few tell tale signs and Natasha had once given an informal presentation on the symptoms to make the rest of the team and their close circle aware.

An uptick in training, sarcasm and jokes. Typically followed by a day or two of silence and middle distance gazes, the duration typically was hedged on the danger level involved. Then a day or two of secretive research and phone calls and flat out disappearences. The final stage was when Clint suddenly hurried and bustled around, announced loudly that he was going to 'handle something', enlisted one of them to watch Hemi and Bed-Stuy in general and tried to hurry out before anyone could stop him or attempt to join in.

They were in the final phase when Clint hurried into the common room and kitchen one morning with a heavy pack on his back, Hemi trotting at his side...

... and a guest.

If thats what it... he?... could be called.

The creature was a mix of man and hyena, walking bipedal on digigrade legs and paws and a towering twelve foot tall entity of solid muscle. He was an albino, white fur with a tint of pale gold undertone, a pink nose and pink eyes and a tall mane of hair that stood up like a mohawk between large, rounded ears. There were gold earrings in each ear, a stud above his eye and when he saw the assembled heroes in the room he grinned and lolled out his tongue between massive, savage teeth to show off a gold stud pierced through it. He was dressed in a worn, black leather jacket, a dense mesh shirt and half shredded jeans. A heavy, gold mace that was easily the length of a man's torso was strapped to his hip.

In a word. He was a punk.

Clint barely seemed to register the strangeness of having just walked into the room with an anthropomorphic hyena the same height as an African Elephant.

He was more concerned with the contents of the pack. It feels like he's carrying a bomb. No. It's more like a brick of acid, slowly eating and corroding away at his spine and flesh from through the pack. Clint can't help but keep rolling and hunching his shoulders, as if he can get the feeling to go away. If anything it made the burden feel heavier.

Clint had never truly hated an object. Sure he commented about hating his phone when it rang or a mug when it cracked and leaked. But this thing? He hated it. Comepletely and utterly loathed it.

He needed to get rid of this thing. Now.

A necronomicon. An honest to gods necronomicon.

When Clint had uncovered a mostly untouched cache of relics in an abandonded P.E.G.A.S.U.S. base outside of Chicago the archer thought he'd just sort through everything in time, stashing it all away for more predominant matters or active relics out in the world. Those were safe and secure, those could wait.

Until he found a case made of solid steel in the very center of the cache that took him almost four hours to cut his way into it. Inside had been the necronomicon. Just the air coming out of it had felt like he was punched violently in the gut.

Every time Clint found himself in the possession of a new P.E.G.A.S.U.S. relic Clint questioned even more the stupidity and sanity of humans in general that they would meddle so deeply into things mortals aren't meant to. Where P.E.G.A.S.U.S. had stolen a book of the dead, an Egyptian one at that, Clint could only imagine and hope that the tomb and temple raiders had paid the price for taking something so grotesquely powerful and poisonous.

If Clint was honest with himself he wanted to leave the thing there. He'd forced himself to haul it out of there, repeating to himself over and over about the disaster that would happen if the thing fell into the wrong hands. Hell, fell into any hands. He'd stashed everything, wrapped the necronomicon in a swath of leather hide and bound with a belt before shoving it into a backpack and stashed it until he could arrange getting the thing back where it belonged.

Which involved the hyena.

"Gimme just a sec, Wep." Clint said, swinging the bag down to sit it on the table, supressing a shudder.

"Of course!" The hyena rumbled before leaning over Natasha where the red head was sitting in a chair working on a tablet, "Natasha!"

"Wepwawet." She replied without looking up.

"Have you missed me?" Wepwawet's voice was low and rumbled and had an Egyptian accent. He towered over her, leaning over until his face was in her eyeline and she was forced to look at him. Easy enough as his head was nearly as big as her whole upper body. Lips curling to show sharp teeth in a grin.

"Like a sunburn." The widow said, giving him a sweet smile before getting up out of her chair. Wepwawet chuckled, grinning doggishly as he stepped out of her space with a bow and trotted over towards the refrigerator, waving jovially at the rest of them, pink eyes glittering in mischief.

"Hello, sad hayaat qasira! Do you have any camel?" He yanked open the refrigerator, bowing down to stick his head in.

The rest of the team had yet to take their eyes off the giant hyena creature now pillaging the refrigerator with a vengence. Wepwawet hummed happily as he bit into the side of a whole pineapple.

Steve suddenly sat forwards and pinched the bridge of his nose, squinting his eyes tight shut, "I gotta stop being surprised. When will I stop being surprised."

"Surprised about?"Loki emerged from the hallway with all the grace of a man who had just woken but refused to let it hinder him. His long, unbound hair was slightly tousled, falling over his shoulders with effortless disarray, and his nightshirt, silken, of course, hung open at the collar, revealing just enough of his throat to hint at a careless kind of elegance. He was barefoot, an unwitting sign of his comfort there, the whisper of his steps barely audible against the floor.

"Our Hawk has brought home a guest." Thor rumbled with a lopsided grin, as he rose to cross towards his brother.

"Guest is putting it nicely." Natasha said with no small bit of sarcasm in her tone, flipping the next page in her book.

Still half-lidded with sleep, Loki took in the scene before him with slow, deliberate ease, his gaze eventually settling on their towering guest. A brow arched, a smirk barely tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Well,” he drawled, voice still thick with sleep but no less smooth for it, “I must say, I wasn’t expecting such exotic company in my waking hours.”

Loki stretched, languid and feline, rolling his shoulders before raking a hand through his hair. The motion seemed almost absent, yet there was something deliberately practiced in the way his fingers combed through the dark strands, the way his shirt shifted just enough to catch the light against his collarbone. He stepped further into the room, his eyes flicking to Wepwawet’s rather... unconventional breakfast, amusement glinting in his gaze.

“No camel, but you’ll find the taste of Midgardian cuisine to be full of surprises, ” Loki mused, his tone edged with mischief as his gaze roamed, finally settling on Wepwawet with an almost lazy intensity. “And I do appreciate a creature of good appetite.”

His lips quirked, teasing, perhaps even a shade approving, before he tilted his head, looking the hyena god over with a sharp, assessing gaze, one that carried no true wariness, only curiosity laced with something far more indulgent.

“I can’t say I’ve had the pleasure,” he murmured, his voice slipping into something smoother, richer. He stepped closer, eyes flicking to Wepwawet’s earrings, the gold catching in the light. “Those are lovely.”

The hyena god looked more delighted with each new acknowledgement, grin getting wider and attention snapping around as he seemed to debate which way to go first. He shoved the rest of the pineapple and dumped the whole bucket of chicken into his mouth at once, paper container and spiky green leaves and all. Heaving it all down with a crunch and swallow before he took a half step towards Steve then stopped, nostrils flaring.

One deep draw of scent and his huge head jerked around and magneta eyes landed on Loki in his shift.

"COUSIN!" The hyena bellowed, practically leaping the distance between them, scooping Loki up like a rag doll in an embrace, swinging them around once before setting him down again, "Mubarak hadha alliqa!Lunimous as a solar flare, dear kinsman. A Pharoh would weep in jealousy to see you. Wepwawet. The Wayfinder. General of Asyut. In your service."

Wepwawet scooped up Loki's hand, bowing over it until his forehead brushed the Trickster's knuckles before straightening. Huge paw like hands lifted to one ear, neatly unclasping an earring and bringing it down to tuck into Loki's hands. But it was so large and thick that it would be better suited as a dense bangle for Loki's wrist. It was heavy, solid gold of ancient make and etched with fine hieroglyphs.

"It's yours." The hyena god rumbled. Wepwawet turned to Thor, throwing his arms wide. Thor didn't hesitate, grinning himself and stepping up to wrap both arms around Wepwawet.

"And you! It is good to see such a warrior of the old kin!" Wepwawet pulled back and slapped Thor heavily on the back, actually making the thunderer stumble a half step. "It has been many a century since Aesir and Ennead have been in company!"

"And a pleasure to have you among us, cousin! You'll stay awhile, will you not?" Thor asked, grinning.

"Don't encourage him." Clint said absently, his phone pressed to his ear before turning towards the other end of the line, "Matty, hey hi. Can you watch the neighborhood for a few days... yeah just an errand... uh... Wep? Whats the time dialation?"

"Depends on how long you wish to chat with my brother." Wepwawet rumbled, patting Thor and moving back to the refrigerator, reaching in then stepping back again, a bucket of cold fried chicken in one hand a a bottle of honey mustard in the other, "One day if the Sands are favorable then a weeks time here."

"Ennead?" Steve asked quietly, looking towards Natasha.

"The Egyptian gods." She hummed without looking up from her reading. Steven hummed in understanding as they both looked towards Wepwawet over by the refrigerator.

The hyena, popped the top off the mustard, dumping all of it into the bucket, giving it a shake then plucked out a whole, soggy, breast from the bucket and bit into it, carnivorous teeth crunching through bone easily. Natasha made a face at Wepwawet before she and Clint exchanged a glance.

"Seriously?" She sighed.

Clint shrugged helplessly, "I needed someone who can sail."

"You are welcome to join us!" Wepwawet grabbed a whole pineapple out of the bowl of fruit on the counter and bit into the side of it with a crackle and squish, chewing the skin and flesh at once. "Any of you! If you care to be judged before an adventure."

Loki looked rather pleased as he slipped the over large gold earring onto his wrist like a bangle, shaking his head with a self-satisfied chuckle, his expression betraying nothing but effortless amusement. “I suppose I must ask what madness I have stumbled into this time. Becausesurely,” he glanced at Clint with a smirk, “this isn’t just breakfast. Breakfast doesn't usually involve time dilation and sailing? Adventure?"

"Gotta agree with Loki here. What have you gotten yourself into, Clint?" Steve asked, getting to his feet and moving over to look at the heavy pack, flipping the lid back.

Clint glanced at him with a grimace at the pack, "Its... its a book."

Wepwawet snorted and grinned, laughing a bit to himself, "Abook."

The Ennead stalked over, Wepwawet practically bent half to better look Steve in the face. It looked like an adult bending to speak to a child.

"Look at him! You are adorable! Trying to understand such big things for such a short life." Wepwawet grinned toothily in Steve's face. "Hello! Did you know your life expectancy ends at seventy? Are you so excited!?"

Clint paled, dashing the short distance between them and shoved Wepwawet's head up and away, "OKAY. That was rude. Go eat something. Futzing hell."

Wepwawet shrugged and strutted back to the refrigerator to find.

Clint rubbed the back of his neck, "Sorry about him. He doesn't get out much and he doesn't really know how to talk to-"

"People?" Natasha cut in.

"The living." Clint shrugged helplessly.

"Joke's on him." Steve said with a bemused shrug, setting his hands on his hips.

"I am delightful company!" Wepwawet protested as he dug a whole frozen lasagna from the freezer, he neatly cut away the cardboard and plastic and popped off the metal tray before taking a bite out of the frozen brick of meat, cheese and noodles, he ambled over to Loki, giving him a wink as he towered over him. "And where we go good company is a gift. The Hawk says we must go to return thisbookto my brother. And so we go to sail the Duat."

Natasha pinched the bridge of her nose, "Unbelievable."

"Look it's not like Anubis can take a long weekend to make a trip to mortal realms." Clint grumbled.

"Seven to ten buisiness years advanced notice!" Wepwawet whooped.

"And this... Duat? You cannot shorten this journey? Fly? You are a fine pilot." Thor reasoned.

"The Duat is an ocean of sand. It must be sailed. The sky belongs to Ra and his solar boat and his fight with Apropis. To fly is to court the wrath of the sun itself." Wepwawet shook his head a bit, then his grin went a bit cunning and sharp, and he stepped into the center of their circle to turn slowly in place. "Besides. To fly is to miss the sights of the Field of Reed and the Gates. You all may come. But be warned. To cross the Duat you must be Judged. To put your heart on the Scales of Justice. Weighed against the Feather of Truth. So see who you really are."

His attention settled on Clint, voice dipping, "What you really are... I have seen men driven mad by it, bit off their own tongues and fling themselves into the sands and reeds to an eternity of dessication..."

The hyena god lets out a low chuckle, voice brightening, "But! You would be in good company! The Hawk has been Judged. He knows what he is. And so the rest of you might be able to keep your shreds of sanity and we sail to the Gates!"

He shoved the second half of the frozen lasagna into his mouth with a crackle and crunch.

"Pass." Natasha said, "I'm only planning on dying once."

"Wait, you're going to die?" Steve asked sharply. "To do this you have to die? Clint-"

"It's not dying. " Clint ptotested, glaring at the side of Natasha's head, she looked up and they stared at each other for a long, silent moment of communication before Clint looked away. "Not dying."

"Of course not!" Wepwawet chuffed, "If it was so, we would not need caution. And if we did not need caution where is the fun, yes?"

"And what, pray tell, is this book that is of such importance that it must be delivered by hand to Anubis?" Loki asked curiously, moving to sit gracefully at the table but not reaching out towards the pack just yet.

Clint fidgeted a bit, "Its... a necronomicon."

"A what?" Steve asked.

"If I may-" Loki reached for the pack, eyes sparking in bright curiosity and mischief.

"Nope, that's okay!" Clint grabbed the pack, pulling it onto his shoulders with a stern look towards the trickster.

Loki only smiled, setting his chin into his hand.

"What does he mean? That you have already been judged?" Thor asked, head cocking to the side, brow furrowed in worry.

Clint shrugged, not looking at Thor and heaved a deep breath, "I've been to the Duat. Once before. Heart on the Scale. All of it. I... don't recommend it."

"Do tell?" Loki prodded a bit.

Clint cast his eyes down, then shook his head a little jaw hardening, "It's... it's finding out what the universe thinks of you... no biases, no expectations... just brutal, raw, reality... and the universe isn't nice. But it fuckin' honest. Even if you hate it. So no. I don't suggest it."

Thor shifted uncomfortably and glanced at Loki, but the trickster looked away. Steve lifted his chin but his jaw jumped a bit. Natasha was staring to hard at the page in front of her.

Wepwawet looked between all of them his face slowly pulling into a grin. "As I said... madness..."

Clint shook his head and turned to push the grinning wayfinder away, "Don't worry, we've got this. I'll be back in a week."

Wepwawet shrugged, digging into the pocket of his leather and coming up with a chunk of charcoal. He stepped up the set of double door at the edge of the common room and swiftly sketched a few fluid and smooth hieroglyphs across the surface. The edges around the door started to glow with gold light.

"Clint-" Steve took a step after them. The archer lifted a hand and waved him off.

"A week." The archer promised.

"If he lives!" Wepwawet barked loudly with a crackle of laughter and he threw open the doors.

They should have led to the hallway beyond. But now a blast of dry, warm air flooded through, flecked with sand and laced with some kind of scent of oils or florals. Beyond was the creaking deck of a wooden skiff, sails flapping in the wind. A rolling sea of a desert beyond.

Clint shook his head as he and hurried through with Wepwawet on his heels and swinging the doors closed behind them.

Clint settled into the rock and rhythm of the skiff after a few steps, turning to watch as Wepwawet as the wayfinder secured the door that now led to the cabin of the skiff then turned to the ropes and tiller.



"Pull the anchor, Hawk! Let us sail!" Wepwawet bellowed.

"Don't sound so damn excited!" Clint grumbled, hurrying to a chain slung over the side and started to haul it up, hand over hand until the heavy, hammer head shaped stone came free of the sand and he dragged it aboard.

"Well done, mortal!" Wepwawet praised and tilted the rudder.

The skiff rocked forwards, the sail shifted under Wepwawet's hands and caught the wind and the skiff set off, skimming over the surface of the sand, Clint stumbled, scrambling to catch the edge of the railing.

"Take it fucking easy, Wep!" Clint snapped.

"Speed is our friend, Hawk! Lest we find ourselves in the company of serpopards!" The wayfinder chuckled.

The archer swallowed tightly and stabilized himself against the speed. "Do we have to go see Taweret?"

"La. You have been judged, the Duat knows the balance of your soul. We need only to get through the Twelve Gates. There, the first! Sia!" Wepwawet pointed to were a set of carved stone columns rose up out of the sands, the glyphs on the stone depicting the sunset and curling snakes. "If we face challenge by my kinsmen it will start here, come stand with me."

Clint nodded tightly as Wepwawet slowed the skiff to a slower cruise, he manuvered back to stand next to the wayfinder, not exactly hiding behind him but certainly trying to look casual. He almost held his breath as they came up to the Gate, then slowly sailed through. The columns seemed to shiver a bit but held steady and Clint let out a breath and Wepwawet thumped him on the back, pink eyes sparking and grinning.

"See? Now eleven more!"

Clint settled in to stay tense as the hours passed, the skiff skimming the ocean of sand. They passed through each Gate, each the next hour of the night as the darkness fell around them and they sailed under a sea of stars. All guarded by some entity or warning.

Two jackals at the third Gate. A cobra with eyes of fire at the fifth.

They didn't come under challenge until the ninth Gate. As Wepwawet slowed a shape had unfolded from its perch on the top of the Gate. Wings flaring out and a low, warbling growl echoed across the sands.

Wepwawet's ears pinned and his mohawk mane stood on end though he grinned ferally, unhooking the golden mace from his hip, "Ready yourself, Hawk!"

"Is that a fucking gryphon!?" Clint barked as he snapped his bow out, he tugged the string once before notching an arrow.

"Naeam! It seems he takes a protest to your mortality!" Wepwawet locked the rudder in place and advanced, swinging the mace over his hand.

The gryphon leapt up off the Gate, flinging wings wide, soaring up before diving towards the skiff with a shrieking roar.

Clint loosed an arrow, not watching were it sunk into the gryphon's shoulder before he was notching and loosing another, this time striking the wing. The wing buckled and the gryphon roared as it hit the deck of the skiff like a meteor.

Wepwawet lept forwards with a war cry and swung the mace, striking the massive creature with a Herculean blow, making it pitch sideways and stumble. Massive claws ripped into the deck of the skiff, splintering boards and leaving streaks of a scorching black ash along the claw marks.

"Al'asad allaeayni!" Wepwawet snarled, "I just had her oiled!"

The gryphon hissed in his face then reared back in pain when an arrow sunk in it's throat. Wepwawet swung the mace up in a rolling uppercut, smashing into the gryphon's jaw abd sending it pitching backwards. Clint dashed forwards and slammed his shoulder into the gryphon's ribs, upsetting it's weight. The gryphon pitched sideways, raking claws over Clint's arm, leaving gashes and streaks of ash behind, before it pitched over sideways and plunged over the side of the skiff and into the sand. It thrashed like a bird in water, carried by the rolling current of the Duat away from them.

Wepwawet leapt to the tiller, yanked on the sail lines and the skiff lurched forwards, skimming off through the Gate. The current of the sand carried the gryphon to the base of those columns where it climbed up, claws digging into stone and roared after them.

Clint sunk to the deck of the ship, clutching his slashed arm, gritting his teeth against the pain. The skiff slowed and Clint looked up as Wepwawet crouched next to him.

"Hold steady, Hawk. Can't let it fester here." The wayfinder growled.

Clint shrugged out of his pack, "Theres a kit in there."

It was like an adult playing with a doll's purse, watching Wepwawet dig into his pack and pull out the bundle of a medical kit and a thick roll of gauze. "Ever a prepared little hunter, aren't you?"

"Better safe than sorry." Clint said through grit teeth, bandaging his arm tightly, even as the red started to seep a bit through the layers of the gauze.

"Best hurry on our way. Perhaps my brother may be of more help for this." Wepwawet thumped Clint on the shoulder and strode to the tiller.

Clint settled sitting back against the railing of the skiff. He didn't like the way the wound throbbed. It didn't feel right or normal. He glared at the pack, the wrapped book inside. He grumbled some quiet curses and focused on the rocking of the skiff instead of the ache in his arm.

The next three Gates go by in a blur of guardians and sentry beasts but none attack like the gryphon had. Clint's head feels thick and heavy, breathing felt tougher.

"I don't feel right, Wep... should I be worried they... they didn't come after us?" Clint muttered.

"They do not attack because they sense you are dying." Wepwawet shrugged.

"Figures..." Clint grumbled.

"Do not let go of your soul just yet, friend. We are nearly there." The wayfinder commanded and pointed a head of them, "There. Look. A'aru. The Field of Reeds. Paradise."

Clint slowly levered himself up to stand and look out over the bow.

The rolling sands of the Duat, rose and fell like waves, a head of them a long, stone dock led the way up to a tall temple made of swirled sandstone and marble. It was elegantly carved, inlaid with silver and gold and enamel. And beyond it a soft sunrise rose over a vast, swaying field of reeds.

As the skiff cruised forwards Wepwawet steered out of tge way as a much larger vessel pulled away from the dock, into the sands and headed back through the Gates. A figure moved up to the railing and waved enthusiatically at them from above. A feminine figure with a hippo's head and an elegant ceremonial headdress.

"Hello! Hello, Wepwawet!" Taweret called down.

The wayfinder let out a deep, booming hyena whoop in return, "Mrhban, Taweret! No time to chat! He's hanging on by a thread!"

"Fuck you, Wep." Clint growled, hanging onto the railing to stay on his feet.

"Oh, dear. Well, you are the right place for it!" The other Ennead replied.

"That is what I was thinking! Sail safe, Taweret!" Wepwawet chuckled.

"You as well!" She replied before disappearing out of sight over the railing of her ship.

The two shipped passed each other and Wepwawet steered the skiff towards the dock, slowing and trimming the sail to a crawl. He grabbed up a long coil of thick rope and lept to the dock, swiftly looping the rope around a small pillar carved in the shape of a jackal, then jogged towards the bow, "The other rope, Hawk!"

Moving to get the tie line and throwing it to Wepwawet took far to much energy and Clint clutched his wounded arm and tried not to throw up over the side into the sands. Everything looked blurry at the edges.

"Come, friend." Wepwawet said quietly, climbing back aboard to collected the pack containing the necronomicon and help Clint climb off the skiff and onto the stone dock.

A gutteral, rattling hiss echoed down the dock, making the pair look up. A creature the size of pony was bounding towards them, it looked like a lion but from the dense mane sprouted the head of a crocodile galloped down the stones of the dock towards them.



Wepwawet bellowed a laugh, kneeling as the creature charged up to him like a monsterous dog. "Ammut! The Destroyer! Mrhbaan ya wahshi almufadal!"

Wepwawet scratched and rubbed Ammut's thick mane. The creature plopped happily on his haunches, long tail curling happily and chomping his jaws.

Ammut pulled away and moved towards Clint, if a crocodile could grin Ammut certainly was, nudging his large muzzle against Clint, making him wobble and whimper before Clint scratched him behind the ear. "Hey, Ammut. Good boy."

"Come. We best not wait." Wepwawet urged, walking slowly so that Clint could keep up. Ammut, trotted a bit ahead but never further, staying close.

The walk down the dock was much harder than it should have been. Clint was fighting to keep his focus, the burning pain in his arm starting to pound in his temples. He felt the air cool as they stepped into the shadow of the temple. Their steps echoed and in the shade if the temple a line of people stood waiting patiently.

"Souls." Wepwawet rumbled. "So few in these modern times. There are not many believers like you anymore, Hawk. Even if you belong to the Olympians."

"No accounting for taste," a low, deeply Egyptian accented voice rumbled. A towering figure, even taller than Wepwawet's thirteen foot stature. A humanoid with the sleek, dark head of a jackal, a heavy necklace of gold looped his throat and rings of gold and polished gems in his tall ears.

"Anubis! Akhi al-habib!" Wepwawet surged forwards and embraced the taller Ennead.

"Min dawaei sururi ruyatuk dayman." Anubis rumbled, embracing the pale furred hyena, patting his back heavily then stepped back, canine lips pulling into a slight smile, though his eyes seemed worried.

"And Clinton Frances Barton. Welcome."

"Whole government name, Anubis?" Clint rasped, letting the pack drop to the floor and stepped closer, Anubis crouched and gripped his hand.

"It is good to see you again, friend. But I must ask-?" Anubis cocked his head, ears tweaking back slightly.

"This. I found it." Clint dragged the pack over. "I needed to bring it back to you."

He reached with his good arm into the pack and with difficulty tugged the heavy tome loose. Anubis knelt down and reaching with massive, paw like hands helped extract the wrapped book and took it, unwinding the belts and thick blanket that had been tucked around the book.

Surprise crossed his lupine face as he leafed through the pages on pages of heiroglyphs between the covers of burnished gold.

"A Book of the Dead... how came you by this, the Huntress' hawk?" The Ennead of Death asked quietly. His head cocked slightly.

"It was in an old lab. P.E.G.A.S.U.S." Clint swallowed roughly, his throat felt like it was thick with ash and sand.

"A part of your crusade then." Anubis rumbled.

"You know about that?" Clint asked.

"All of the Old Kin know about it, Hawk." Wepwawet chuckled, "You are a famous mortal. Stout. Bold."

"And true. Shkran lak, my friend." Anubis closed the tome and with a twist of his hand it was tucked away to some place unseen. "I owe you a debt. But more pressing matters. I must ask. Have you come here to rest?"

Clint's brow crunched together,"Rest?"



"You are dying." Anubis said matter of factly.

"The ninth Gate." Wepwawet growled, "The Ashen Gryphon."

"You didn't say it had a name." Clint growled, "Stuff with names is always so much worse!"

"A testimate to your strength to have made it so long, friend. I cannot heal you wholly, but I can draw the ash from you and ensure your soul is stitched in place. You will have to do the hard work of healing on your own." Anubis' head cocked to the side, his expression shifting to look soft and kind.

They always said that the truth of Death was that it was kind.

"But. If you wish. You may choose to go on." Anubis shifted and looked back towards some point in the depths of the temple, where the line of souls stood in line to enter the Field of Reeds, a sweet scent drifted towards them.

"...you mean die?" Clint asked.

"I would escort you myself." Anubis nodded. Ammut chuffed and nudged Clint's side. "Ammut as well it seems."

"It would be a well earned rest, Hawk." Wepwawet rumbled.

"No further pain or the weight of life. An eternity to live all the bliss of what you leave behind. You deserve such a thing." Anubis hummed.

"... but the Scales-" Clint stuttered out.

Wepwawet snorted and growled. "Ma'at knows your heart is not heavy, Hawk!"

"I'm not a good person." Clint said quietly.

"Axra min kida mafiiš!" Wepwawet barked, "Short lives are stupid!"

Anubis glared at the albino hyena god then focused back on Clint. "You have a rare thing. It is your choice."

Clint looked passed Anubis' shoulder to the distant point beyond.

Choice. A choice to live or die. On his terms.

To just stop. Put it all down and rest. Die. Just die. Let it all go and just... be... stop being a weapon, stop fighting, stop killing, stop stop stop...

Clint swallowed tightly, almost choking on the taste of ash in his throat. "... I can't. Not yet."

Anubis nodded, "Very well. Your arm."

Clint felt a bit hollow but he held out his arm, Anubis gently cupped his arm in massive, paw like hands. With a claw he sliced away the bloodied bandages. Then he seemed to carve in the air over the wound, fine golden lines sketched into hieroglyphs. Clint flinched, fresh pain blooming in his arm as the ash slowly slithered back through his veins and started to collect and coil into a swirling ball, the heaviness and ache in his head and body ebbed, the faded enough just for the familiar burn of pain to settle in.

He at least felt more clear headed than he had since before the gryphon attack.

"There. And for the soul." Anubis drew another hieroglyph in the air over Clint's heart. Internally he felt something pull taught and he choked on his own breath, breaking into a heaving coughing fit.

"Ah. To live." Anubis chuckled and got to his feet.

Wepwawet rumbled a laugh and slapped a heavy hand on Clint's back, making the archer stumble, "Fastest I have seen a mortal use a debt, certainly."

"Consider it a freebie." Anubis rumbled, "The debt stands, call on me when you have need."

Clint forced his breathing back to nirmal but his voice came out harsh, "Thanks."

"Now I have souls to attend. Sail safely to the Gate of Osiris." Anubis hummed, "No dalliances, brother mine."

Wepwawet saluted smartly. The Ennead of Death shook his head and with Ammut on his heels strode down the long way of the temple towards the passway to the Field of Reeds.

"Come then, Hawk. Let us return you to the drum of mortality." The wayfinder yipped.

"Try not to get me almost killed this time." Clint turned to start along the temple track passed the line of waiting dead and onto the stone dock and towards the skiff.

"Certainly. A relaxing cruise on your way back to the Material Plane. Perhaps the sceneic route? Surely your friends will not miss you a few more days." Wepwawet rumbled, walking on his heel.

Clint curse, "Shit! I forgot its a week's difference... I should have chosen death."

The wayfinder let out a bellow of a laugh.