Djeral and Nergil

Found among the writings of Imir, high priest of Nergil.

And in those days, it was given to Djeral and Nergil to be the keepers of the way between death and life. Nergil was elder, and Djeral was younger, and Djeral loved his brother very much, and admired him. When the task was given to them, Nergil took his brother aside, saying,

              “Little brother, we have been tasked with a sacred duty. Let us swear on the sky above and the earth below that we will keep the way between death and life empty, lest the dead beset the living with their regrets.”

And Djeral said:

              “Brother, it is a good thing you propose, but we should swear such a thing on something worth more than the sky and the earth.”

              “Very well,” said Nergil, “Let us swear on each other.”

And Djeral was pleased. So the brothers spat in their claws and shook hands, and swore on each other. For they were gods even then – young gods, but gods in full, and an oath sworn on a god is not painlessly broken. And the brothers kept the way clear for many years, ensuring the dead could not walk back to life.

              One day, Djeral and Nergil were visited by Serkur. And it fell to Nergil to entertain her while Djeral stood guard at the way between death and life. But Serkur saw how Djeral and Nergil loved each other and cared for their task, and thought of her own sister, and she hated them. Serkur and Nergil drank deep of their bitter desert-wine, and Serkur took care to drink less than Nergil. And Serkur said to Nergil,

              “Nergil, your task is surely noble, and you are well suited for it. I find you clever and strong, and I doubt there is anything you cannot do. Well… save one thing.”

              Nergil was incensed by her words and demanded to know what she thought impossible. And Serkur took him outside, and they looked at the home he shared with his brother, Djeral. Serkur said to him:

              “Your house is grand, as suits you, but it is also tall. I would wager that you could not climb to the top and walk end to end.”

              “’Tis easily done,” said Nergil.

              But when Nergil arrived at the pinnacle of his house, he found it treacherous for his drunken feet, and he tumbled from his roof. And Nergil hit the sand with a sickening thud and did not stand back up. Serkur, pleased with her work, scuttled back to the desert.

              When Djeral came home in the evening and found his brother, he wept bitter tears. But he knew his brother was a god, and death itself would not sway him from his purpose. His brother would simply guard the way from the other end, for he had sworn an oath on him, his little brother. Thus comforted, he buried his brother under the sand.

              And Nergil walked the way from life to death. When Nergil arrived in death, he remembered his duty to guard the way, but thought he might look about a bit and get to know his new country. And there he wandered for a long time, through the valleys and crevices of the land of the dead, where grinning, polished skulls beam at the viewer, where Khontu’s light does not reach, where shadows run like water and vermin scuttle over vermin. Nergil learned much there and studied at the feet of foreign gods – he spent a time in the bottomless swamp of the Nocnitsa, and the secrets they whispered to him cannot be guessed at, but he emerged in an ink-black hooded cloak clasping a tome bound in leathery skin. The tome was called Secret, and in its pages were scribed all the secrets of those who have ever died, and Secret whispered sweet promises to Nergil. He also spent a time in the maddening warrens of Rat, gnawing and writhing in the darkness, and burst from death’s ground, pale and gaunt from his trials and grasping a cruel, curved dagger. The dagger was called Fang, and with it, Nergil could drink deep of lifeblood, and be sated for a time. And with these Nergil carved out a creche for himself among the dead.

              But Nergil missed his brother, and Khontu’s light on his skin, and his grand home in the land of the living. He told himself that his brother would be happy to see him. So one night, when the moon shone dark, Nergil clawed his way out of the sand his brother had buried him in and dragged himself to his door. And he presented himself to Djeral, excited to show his brother his tome and his dagger. But Djeral looked at his brother’s corpse and knew that the oath he had sworn on him had been broken. And Djeral’s heart broke for his brother, and shattered, and grew back pointed and cruel. And Djeral took up his spear, and sent his brother back to the land of the dead, and took to his task with a renewed zeal, cursing his brother’s betrayal with every breath. And Nergil was incensed back, and sent legions and legions of the dead to strike at his brother, and the two hate each other with the hate only love can spawn.

              And Serkur saw this, and laughed to herself.