Week 5 Story: I Fled the Feast

I can remember how quickly the humor evaporated from our great hall because it haunts me even now. All the mirth and drunkenness left in the night, like smoke from a snuffed candle, and by the time I realized what had happened, grief had overtaken me. Accepting his death was like trying to breath in a vacuum, like reaching out for something you know is no longer there but which you desperately need anyway. 

We'd been feasting, celebrating my husband's return from the other side of the world. Osiris had insisted on going abroad to teach wisdom to all people. I was less certain. I protected him, kept him safe in all circumstances. He swore to me he would return, with that beautiful crooked smile and the familiar glint in his eye. I remember laughing, relenting, and telling him to come to bed. The next day he announced, casually to the entire court, that he was taking a journey and that I was to rule in his absence. His advisors sputtered and coughed in confusion, but my Osiris just laughed and handed over his scepter. He never worried about me like I worried about him. 
The only threat to my reign was already well-known: Set, Osiris' brother. Jealousy and evil permeate every facet of his being, but Osiris and I both knew that I superseded him in strength and courage. Which is why, to steal my husband's throne, he resorted to wicked trickery.

At the feast, Set brought a chest and the appearance of good cheer. It was a beautiful chest, decorated with rubies, lapis and gold. It was the most magnificent gift of any that had been brought to glorify my husband. Looking back on it, I should have realized that Set could never pay his respects without an ulterior motive. But even I never thought that he would go as far as fratricide. 

He'd made the chest to Osiris' exact measurements, every curve and angle of my husband's body had been taken into account in it's construction. Set had offered the chest to any of our guests who could fit perfectly within its gilded walls, and I laughed along with our guests when Osiris drunkenly crawled inside. Suddenly, like the snap of a crocodile's jaws, Set closed the lid, sealed it shut, and cackled madly as my love thundered in vain against the confines of his tomb. Soon the grand hall was as silent as the echo of his final breath. 

Our guest's fled in terror as Set ascended the dais and assumed the throne, and I, restrained by my brother-in-law's conspirators, screamed until my voice left me. Courtiers who had betrayed Osiris took up his sarcophagus and carried it out of sight. While I wept, Set came upon me. He pursed his twisted lips and hissed like a serpent against my ear:
Run.

"Osiris and the Egyptian Resurrection"
Flickr

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Author's Note:

I read the Ancient Egyptian Myths, and the story is inspired by the story "The Death of Osiris". I have been considering a Portfolio Project, and this would certainly be one of the stories I include. I want to add on to it in the future, and complete the saga from Isis' point of view. Though doing a Storybook of this myth might be better. I honestly don't know. 
First person is kind of difficult for me, because I think it's easier to explain people's emotions as an omniscient narrator. Sometimes we hide our emotions from ourselves, and conveying that while letting the reader know that nothing is actually missing is a challenge. But I think it will be better to try a first person story with this myth because the myth only says that Isis is grief-stricken, and that Osiris was wise, so there is lots of room for me to write them as I want to. 
I know that I'm going to continue this story, probably on my Project website. 

Bibliography:
Egyptian Myth and Legend by Donald Mackenzie (1907).