Adventuring through twisted time.
“I tend to always lose faith in humanity. But then again I was meant to destroy them.”
Hathor was never like the other God’s of Egypt. She wasn’t born like the rest of them. She was made by Ra. Made for one thing. Destroy all humans. For they had sinned and turned their backs on their gods. They ignored the warning signs. The plagues and sicknesses that swept through the land. Allowing them time to atone for their sins before it was too late. Yet, man is stubborn and just as prideful as the gods they served. So Ra created from himself a daughter. Gauging out his eye to create her and tricking her into drinking red-dyed beer to bring the havoc in her to life.
A daughter of death.
A daughter of destruction.
None of the Gods saw the problem when Hathor's first breaths were taken. All of them were so focused on what was about to fall upon their people. Yet that was the problem. Hathor was created with only one purpose. She had no mercy or restraint. Or any concept of it. She wasn’t built with any and was never taught. She was just loosed from The Field of Reeds like lighting striking the Earth.
Sekhmet. That is what they called her at first. The lady of terrors. The gods couldn’t stop her once she touched the earth. They couldn’t reel her back in or calm her down. For again she only knew one thing and suddenly the gods all realized their mistake. She had no compassion. No sense of anything other than what she was made for. For three nights the goddess waded about in the blood of man.
Until Ra, the sun god took pity on the humans that remained. He recalled his daughter with the guise of celebration for her victory. Tricking her into drinking the very thing that made her this terrifying goddess. The blood-red beer soon gets her drunk and before long she forgets herself.
Hathor. She was called from that day forth and made a goddess of many responsibilities the more she showed herself a loyal daughter.
Then the gods around them began to fall.
The gods of Egypt didn’t concern themselves with the fates of the gods from other realms at first. Their fate was their own. Their realm was their own. Or so they believed. Until a minor god among them fell to this war first. That was enough, however, to stir the gods of Egypt into action. Rattling them to their feet and before the throne of Ra.
Here they conspired many a plan to avoid their inevitable fall to Tartarus. Even played with the dangerous idea of resurrecting Sekhmet. Rather than trick her though they welcomed her into the throne room and unfolded their plan to her.
With this war of the gods having reached The Field of Reeds the gods of Egypt believed they could be protected from it. That they could somehow save themselves by hiding behind something or should I say someone they believed to be far worse. They wanted the lady of terror back by their sides as their champion of sorts to save them from this evil.
Hathor listened in disbelief and disgust. She was the goddess of the sky, of women, fertility, love and drunkenness. Not one of death and destruction as they so claimed and this Sekhmet they spoke of wasn’t her, it couldn’t have been. She was just a night terror humans told their kids. Hathor couldn’t remember who she was when she was created. She couldn’t recall the things she’d done as Sekhmet. For now.
It would take time they didn’t have to get her to believe and maybe remember everything about herself without experiencing trauma and shock. Time they didn’t have. Ra, this time told her the truth of what she was drinking. Having refined the red-dyed beer so she wouldn’t completely lose herself and present memories.
Nevertheless, their efforts were futile.
Every god’s fate was already intricately woven together by the loom of Destiny.
When it was their time to fall into the cavity of Tartarus there wouldn’t be anything anyone could do to deter it from happening.
And so one by one, the gods of Egypt fell.
Despite Hathor's efforts as Sekhmet. If it was their time to go. Nothing she did or could do would save her fellow deities. And soon she was the last one left standing.
Yet, when she was felled it wasn’t to Tartarus she was sent. For she wasn’t like the rest of her kind. In fact, she was one of a kind. Her body fell from The Field of Reeds and slammed to Earth. Where she lay hidden and lifeless for millenniums after.
Until the lost tale of the goddess that fell to Earth was found consigned to the grave. Hidden within a dark tomb of a Pharaoh laid to rest in the valley of kings. Discovered by a Templar. One who’d use the information to destroy every unholy creation.
But a hypocrite he was because upon finding Hathor-Sekhmet's body he used the most unholy of magic to bring her back to life. Trapping her within her own body like a puppet. She watched all the destruction she bought upon this world at the Templars command. Far worse than the destruction she had wrecked when she was first created. At least then her Father Ra felt some mercy. Had the decency enough to reel her back in and change her for the betterment of humans.
These Templars however had “righteous indignation”. One that could only be sated by wicked, vicious means. Hathor through everything they made her do never stopped fighting for freedom. And With every battle she won them, she gained more liberation. Unbeknownst to the Templars.
It wouldn’t be until the battle with the Fae many moons from when she'd first arisen that she'd break away from the dark hold over her. The Raven king. The King of the Fae was the turning point in this war and the one who unknowingly freed her. No one knew she was nought but a puppet. Leaving everyone to believe she was at the Templars side on her own.
However, the moment she was free she froze. Felt something snap within her. She thought at first and many times before this very moment on whether she could live without the dark magics that resurrected her. She stayed still. Blood of the Fae dripped from her hands and splattered across her face and body.
She took slow long breaths. Laying in wait to drop dead.
Yet that never happened.
And so, when she realized her life was hers she turned and turned her devastation and destruction on the ones that brought her here. Fighting back the Templars while the Raven King took all the glory. Glory she didn’t care for.
She chased the Templars far from Thistlemoon. Eliminating them all and uncovering the deep cavernous underbelly of a beast, the organization truly was. The time turned. The world changed but Hathor was unforgiving never wavering in her want to gut the Templars and what they turned into as each decade passed.
She hunted them alone for many decenniums. Eviscerating them of their holy books of knowledge and sacred treasures to build her wealth and open her own syndicate.
She used the Templars wealth to build an obscured organization hell-bent on taking them down once and for all.
Hathor also credited an impenetrable alias. Becoming an owner of several different liquor and spirit gardens and establishments of the like.
All the while she and her Syndicate grow ever closer to their final goal.