Gregor felt the punishing sun beat down on his already raw skin. His breath came in panting gasps as he pushed his screaming muscles to propel himself up the side of the dune, fighting against the sliding sand that tried to push him back down. He had never felt more miserable in his life. When he started his expedition, he assumed the heat would be the worst of the desert, but he quickly realized it was not the heat, but the dryness that tormented him most. The sand rubbed against his exposed skin. The air pressed on him, a hand of god shoving him into the parched earth that every muscle seemed to have to strain against just to remain upright. Each hour spent on the expedition furthered his idea that he would never even reach the end before the desert claimed his life.
As the sun rose higher, he crested the dune and looked down at the valley below, sweat stung his eyes and clouded his vision, but he found himself grateful for the moisture; it was a sign that despite the pain and exhaustion he was not as close to death's door as he felt. Down below in a valley made of several dunes a patch of green and blue blurred in his vision, rippling in the heat. He shifted his pack on his shoulders and blinked rapidly. The appearance of the oasis either spelled disaster for him or triumph. He had studied the map that morning as he left camp; there should only be an oasis once he reached the next settlement that evening, a settlement that was far from this ridge of dunes. Seeing the lush carpet of greens and brilliant blue lake probably meant that, for better or worse, his trek would soon be over.
His heart began to pound loudly in his ears and he gazed at the sign that either he had finally found her after years of pointless expeditions and research or that his “desert madness”, as so many had called it, had finally claimed his life. If the Oasis was real then it was not on any map, meaning that it was the oasis of the sphinx. If the Oasis was simply a mirage it meant he had been neglecting his body's needs and was experiencing the true madness that surely would spell a desert death. He stumbled down the side of the dune, slipping slightly against the loose areas of sand.
Ever since he was a boy, he had been fascinated with the legend of her, entranced by the illustrations of her, the tales dismissed as the ramblings of men gone mad with the heat of the desert. The beautiful Sphinx, a monster of old, so entrancing ancient man had been compelled to labor and craft a giant statue of her likeness in the desert, and tales of her prowess infiltrated the mythology of many civilizations. Was he finally going to gaze upon her? Would he finally be able to test his worth and value against her notorious riddles? Riddles were made even harder by the fact that all those who made it to her would surely be suffering from the mental and physical exhaustion of the elements. Would he prevail? Or would his raw and sun-baked body feed her, nourishing her form? Either way, he did not care, and he knew that more than anything signaled his true madness.
He fell in love with her, through the stories and the illustrations and the mythology, his entire soul and being had belonged to her for years. When he was young his mother would tell him tales of the fantastic myths of the ancient world. The story of the enigmatic creature with the head of a woman and the body of a lion fascinated him, she would devour the unworthy, and reward those clever enough to solve her riddles. When he fell ill as a boy and cancer had ravaged his body he nourished his mind and an obsession began to build for the monster who valued clever wit over brawn. Soon the obsession turned into a deep and unwavering love for her as he devoured myths and studied the nature of riddles and when he recovered and became a man he set out on his expedition, determined to find the object of his love or die trying.
Now as he approached the edges of what very well could mean the end of a lifetime of searching he felt like time slowed, suddenly the pounding in his ears slowed, and the tired desperate aches of his muscles vanished to the background. The trees were closely packed, and the deep jade green of the vegetation made it clear his only path was through two massive palms. He smiled, if this was death he would take it. He walked through the palms into the shadowed oasis, breathing deeply and slowly.
“Greetings mortal” Her voice was somehow the vocal embodiment of everything the oasis would mean to a dying man lost in the desert. It was a deep, smooth lullaby with a sweet refreshing melody. Though it seemed to travel into his body to resonate in his bones as if he was a tuning fork, vibrating down him, it was purely feminine power. He turned and beheld her and found himself devoid of breath or thought in the face of her beauty, even shadowed as it was by the trees of the oasis. She had the same long oval-shaped face with sharp defined cheekbones often depicted in artwork of ancient Egyptian women, leading him to wonder if they had gotten their standards of beauty from her. Her wavy black-brown hair was pinned back away from her sharp-angled eyes by golden pins accented with lapis jewels, and the lapis paled when compared to the blue of her eyes that bore into him, a blue that called forth images of deep cool pools of water. Her lips were curved into a smile that made his knees go weak. Her shoulders and chest were that of the most beautiful woman, smooth flawless skin the color of polished oak, and just above where her navel would be the rest of her body flowed flawlessly into that of a lion, her shoulders leading to massive claw-tipped paws covered in tawny fur.
As he stared at her she sat back on her powerful hind legs and her beautiful white feathered wings caught his eye, such a brilliant white they almost seemed to glow in the shadows, with deep brown feathers along the tops, as if a lesser god was inspired by her wings when making the eagle. Gazing at her form now he realized that she did not have the body of a lion, the wings of an eagle, and the face of a woman but rather all those creatures had her features, for she was the clearly superior version of all of that imagery. Speech and even breath seemed to fail him as he tried to gather his thoughts in her presence, she simply sat, smiling at him as she waited.
Eventually, he found his voice and shakily bowed to the myth made flesh before him
“Greetings mistress of monsters” To his dismay his voice cracked as he spoke. He felt flustered and overwhelmed and couldn't decide what aspect of her beauty to gaze on. She cocked her head slightly, her smile growing and hair falling over her shoulder.
“You don't smell of fear as mortals usually do when they gaze on me, are you not shocked by my existence? Or perhaps you feel you must be addled by the heat of the desert and this is not real”
“Oh I dare not let myself fully dream this is real” he breathed, confusion crossed her face for just a moment before her calm cool smile returned he went on “Great sphinx may I kn-know your name?” he asked, shaking with anxiety and nervousness as if he were a schoolboy speaking to a crush.
“Most do not care to ask it, I have gone by many names but the one I like most is Bennu I think, for now anyway.” Her voice continued to resonate through him as if the very sound of it was trying to shift his being. “Now, mortal, comes the time. If you wish to continue to the oasis you must solve my riddle. If you fail I will devour you, but if you succeed you may ask a boon of me” she continued. His heart began to race, the time was upon him, to prove his worth, his value to her. “You may choose not to face this challenge and leave now, but be warned there is no other reprieve for leagues and leagues yet” His throat constricted and he simply nodded. “Also be warned once I utter the riddle you will not be permitted to leave until you answer the riddle” Again he nodded silently. Heart racing he cleared his mind, centering himself.
***
Bennu looked down on the old mortal curled beside her as they lay under the endless night sky. With one long delicate claw, she pushed his shaggy gray hair out of his face, gazing at the lined leathery skin of his face and neck and felt a deep sadness well inside her. How had it come to be that the most important being in all the worlds to her was this fragile mortal beside her? He certainly had not seemed anything special when he wandered into her oasis 50 years ago. Another lost desert mad soul to face her riddle, prove his worth and She would allow him to live, fail and he would become her next meal. Gregor had first surprised her when he asked her name, it wasn't the first time she had been posed the question, but it had happened infrequently enough to stand out. And then he had stared at her with such a strange hunger of his own, one she couldn’t fully understand. Sure some men had looked at her with lust initially, and then horror as her non-human features registered, but the longer Gregor had looked the deeper the hunger in his eyes and scent had grown.
Gregor had solved her first riddle easily, shocking her. Even more shocking, the boon he asked was simply to be allowed to spend the night at her side. The light in his eyes when he had solved the riddle, when he laid a mat beside her that evening, gazing at her as if even the endless sea of stars paled in comparison to her beauty, it was so strange. Bennu couldn’t lie to herself, that first night she was angry. Had this mortal asked to stay to humiliate her? Was he mocking her, asking for that boon? She spent the entire night glaring as the mortal slept, crafting her most difficult riddle, vowing that he would be her meal the next day.
And he solved it! Sure it took longer than the first day, he had sat, a wrinkle forming in his brow and thought, unmoving for hours as she watched him and then quietly he looked up and answered the riddle. Shock and rage had filled her face before she could master her expression. And again he asked the same boon, a night by her side. And again as they lay down he gazed at her with such longing and desire in his nut-brown eyes it confused her.
Weeks passed in the same manner. An increasingly difficult riddle was solved, and a night was spent beside the infuriating mortal who confounded her. And in between, she found an odd pleasure growing at his companionship. He plied her with questions, not about the nature of the world or monsters, but about her. He asked her favorite color, her favorite memory, and why she hid herself from the world. And she found herself curious enough to ask him questions in return, learning he had been a sick boy who grew into a determined man. A man with a fascination for myth, for her. As they spoke the evening of the fifth day of the twelfth week he confessed that it had grown from fascination to obsession to love. This confession had taken her breath from her, love?
And she found that night as she considered all she knew of the man, and love, that he held a place in her heart as well. She, the last of the sphinx, was in love with this strange creature? How could that be? She was immortal, timeless, and undying and he was…. He was so vulnerable. The very next day she had felt the disturbance that told her another was approaching the oasis and found herself fearful, what if his love turned sour when he saw what she truly was? What if her monstrous side disgusted him? She found the idea of him leaving her side caused a strange pang in her chest and made it hard to breathe. When the haggard man had entered the oasis the magic compelled her to approach him. She did not need to feed or drink like mortals, but the magic that gave her life compelled her to ask the riddles and to devour those who failed. She chose an easy riddle for the poor creature entering her oasis as Gregor watched on from the shadows, silent. The man passed, he drank from the oasis and asked for the boon of wealth, she felt the magic of the oasis respond and knew the man would get his wish. Gregor walked to her side as they watched the man walk away. She watched Gregor from the corner of her eye, waiting to see his reaction
“Why did you choose such an easy riddle?” he asked. She hung her head in shame. His strong coarse fingers had brushed her chin, sending a flutter through her as she turned to look at him. “Bennu?” She found each time he said the name she had chosen she loved it even more, as if his words were changing her very being into Bennu.
“The reason is shameful,” she admitted. He said nothing, only continued to gaze into her eyes with his steady brown ones “I did not… I did not want you to find distaste for me, for what I am upon seeing me” she admitted, he smiled sweetly.
“Bennu, my love. I love you, all of you. I know the myth, I know you. I see you. I love you” he had kissed her then, softly, sweetly and she found the sensation filled her with such an ache she thought it would shatter her very being, and that night after he had solved his own riddle and they had laid down she found herself praying to the cosmos to give her this man, to make it true that he loved her, that even when he saw the dark parts of her his love would hold.
And it had. The next to enter her oasis had failed, and Gregor had watched unflinchingly as she had devoured the man, his blood spraying her skin and running warm and sticky down her chin. And then when she was finished he had taken her to the pool and helped wash the gore from her. Kissing her lightly again.
Her sister, Sekhmet had once fallen in love and it had destroyed her. Bennu never understood why she had been willing to give up all her power and strength to live a mortal life with her wife, but Sekhmet had. Gladly drinking the wine that their father, Ra, had spelled to turn her mortal and walking away. After only a few months with Gregor by her side Bennu found she understood. She found she too would drink that wine if offered, that she would give up her magic and power to walk the world beside this strange man with the steady brown eyes. She sent a silent prayer nightly to her father. He never answered, either unable or unwilling to grant her Wish.
Years passed in this way, the time flying. Gregor was steady and calm beside her, unflinching in his love of her. He left occasionally for supplies and always returned with a beautiful trinket from the mortal lands for her, or books that he would read to her in the afternoons as she baked in the sun, calmed by the sounds of his voice. She loved the stories, but she hated the cold nights she spent alone.
Slowly Gregor began to go strange. He stopped his voyages out of the oasis, and he seemed to grow more forgetful, and even almost angry at times. Then came the fateful day he answered her riddle wrong.
It happened as they were dozing off. It had become their practice for her to ask the riddle as they lay down for bed and for him to answer just before he drifted off. She felt the magic in her compel her to claim him, she sat up the whole night crying, reasoning how his answer was technically true until the magic was satisfied. He seemed his usual self the next day, unaware of her heartache that night.
She began to craft simple riddles with such a wide window for what was correct, trying to drag out her time with him. There were days Gregor seemed to forget who he was, wandering the Oasis, talking to himself. Some days he did not remember their years together and approached her as he had that very first day, others he seemed a child, unaware of who he was or who she was. Those days hurt her the most, stabbing into her heart. She pleaded at night to all the gods, to all the powers and the magic, pleaded for her sweet companion, for his mind and his wit, for just one more day with him beside her, please.
Then that night came. She watched him, remembering their years, remembering his love, and her love. Knowing how he had changed her, and knowing she did not want this life anymore. Without him what was the point? He had shown her a different way of being, one with laughter and companionship. With soft stolen kisses and warm gentle caresses, where she could be whoever she was and he would remain. Rage filled her. How dare this man come to her, change her, love her, and then leave her! What cosmic joke was this? To show her such contentment, such happiness, and not allow her to keep it? To force her to know it was possible and to endure without it!
His breathing slowed and his scent shifted as she watched him, her anger changing to fear as a black empty pit opened inside her. He let out one last shuddering breath and then sighed out her name. Then his chest stopped moving. She shook him with her paws, kissing him all over trying to wake him, tasting the salt of her tears as she did, but he did not respond. She let out a roar, sending her anger to the heavens, to the gods who had ignored her, to the magic that bound her. She cursed the world, a world that brought her him only to steal him away.
Then she fell, sobbing, her paws over his chest, kissing him still, feeling him grow cold in the desert night, desperately pleading for her magic to bring him back, for her father, for her sister, for someone, anyone. She would give everything, she would be anything just please please don't make her be without him. She couldn’t, she wouldn’t. He was her, he had changed her and shaped her and despite having lived centuries before him she could not see a way to live one more second without him!
Bennu sobbed and raged through the night, feeling empty and hollow as the sun rose on a world she did not want anymore. Sobbing, she fell asleep, still curled around his body, still unwilling to accept that the universe could continue without him, that she could even still exist without him. Bennu was not sure how long she lay next to his cold body, but eventually, she was able to think again. Maybe she could keep him with her, maybe if she ate him he would find a way to exist in her, to be a part of her. In desperation, she tried.
Once his bones were all that was left, she continued to sob, still feeling empty and hollow. Gregor was gone, her one love would never return. He would never kiss her softly again, and tonight she would have to lay under the endless sky without his warmth.
“Please” she sobbed “Please I can't” She finally felt the magic around her response, brushing against her, trying to soothe her, but conveying the same message she knew it would, her future would hold the same thing the world before Gregor held, loneliness. The magic could not bring him back any more than it could set her free. She would continue with nothing but his bones to keep her company and nothing but his memory to keep her sane. She lay down and sobbed quietly, giving into the dark void in her soul that claimed her.
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