Chapter 1 of 3 - A Stone’s Path
As the sun falls below the horizon-and the equines find their way home for the night-a certain statue stretches, sore from his daily routine of standing stock-still. His name is Hapi, he was once the god of the river which he now spends his days watching as it lazily drifts by. But no more, he has long since ascended from this realm, his only link to this world the statue which his son, Ramses, crafted.
Every night, he is freed from the forced position of the statue, and is able to wander the city until the sun rises once more. He enjoys his nighttime excursions as standing on that rock all day makes his hooves itch. He absentmindedly runs his fingers through his mane and flicks his tale, testing the air. Satisfied he gives a mighty heave and jumps silently into the air flapping his wings gently so as not to wake anyone.
Hapi flies around until he spots the dwelling where his son resides, gently landing in front of it. He waits there for precisely six minutes and twenty-three seconds, when Ramses finally appears.
The creature that just walked from the shelter was a spitting image of his father. Ramses was a winged minotaur, and he was a demi-god living among mortals, only he knew of his father’s true existence, and only he knew of his life status; which was exactly the way he wanted it.
Ramses has inherited his deitic father’s longevity and has consequently been through many events in his life, both good and bad. A long time before he settled in Dehenet, he was recognized as quite a hero by his people. But those days were over, he has failed. The last of a dying race, and he must live with the guilt of causing its destruction. Of course, there were other minotaurs in the world, they just didn’t have wings, so it wasn’t the same.
Hapi motioned for Ramses to climb onto his hand, as he could not hope to keep up with the god, even in his statuesque body. He then took off once more into the air, and soared under the stars to the mountain range that split the land, ending the desert and instating a region of fertile soil with forest and plains abound. It was a short flight for him, but would take any other creature upward of four months to brave the desert heat and even spot the range on the horizon.
Setting down on a clearing that he and his son frequented, Hapi looked over the world he has known for much longer than any other creature alive today, and was content. He would suffer any number of hours in the sweltering desert sun, as long as he can continue to have these moments- these moments of reflection with his son.
Hapi usually thought about the times before the ascension, when this land was filled with beings such as he, when it was a blank canvas- a playground for the gods. But this time, he simply sat and watched his son as he thought of his own adventures throughout the land. Hapi felt sad for Ramses, as he knows the trouble and pain the last of the winged minotaurs has been through; he knows the guilt that must weigh down on his shoulders, the guilt of surviving, the pain of losing the entirety of his race.
Ramses was indeed thinking about the fall of his race; about his narrow escape; about the reason the Guardians actually attacked his people; about his failure to protect his people, his failure to live up to his title, his birthright, his father. He remembered it well, and wished he didn't. Yet, Ramses wouldn't forget it for the world, he wanted to remember; he wanted to know that he had failed, that he needs redemption.