He Who Lives
Where the Day Ends
Where the edge of light lies alongside the edge of shade, Anubis resides - where truth is clearly discerned. Never first, always last, he resides in the cool ending of the day, moving across the desert where the heat of life has passed. He keeps no companion but for the fangs that gnaw at bones, the peaceful crunching in the silent night. The sand shifts in the wind; a shushing rattle. The bones lay half covered. The hounds gnaw away and the sand gnaws away. All things fall to their teeth.
Where the shadows coalesce, Anubis takes form; the sleek muscle of the fanged hound or the sleek eyed knowing of the man. The sleek shadow that moves across the sand and sky, is but his hand brushing over the mortal realm. With cold stars for eyes, with cold stars for thoughts, he exists ever as a fulcrum between the scales; measuring, discerning. The dispassionate knowing that guards against threatening chaos, his eyes measure all things that pass before him.
Like fleeting shadows across the sand, the lives of mortal man brushed past his gaze and were gone. He measured each shadow in exacting perfection. There was no mercy to the edges, no judgement for the transient nature of subjective truths. He knew the bones of their lives, the immutable nature of all things, distilled.
The sand scours the bones clean and he moves ever forward. Amun Ra sets. Amun Ra journeys again through the perilous black toward dawn and Anubis orders the shadows, guards against the chaos of unknowing till Amun Ra rises again. Around him, the shadows cannot remain unnamed, the chaos cannot remain faceless. His clarity guides along the edge where light and dark caress.
The sand hisses; the dry whispers of secrets the living cannot discern. The sand gnaws at stones, at bones forgotten in the sand; at mortals who fade slowly from memory. He cloaks himself in the recursive impossibility of endings: all things end but endings. The day will come again. There will be new bones for his hounds to gnaw into the darkness.