Reincarnated In Vikings

The Solar Barge sailed onward, its hull glowing faintly under the magnificent canopy of stars. Silence lingered, broken only by the hum of the cosmic winds and the soft crackling of residual flames from the recent battle.

Ra leaned heavily on his spear, his divine form shimmering as he teleported in a burst of golden fire. He reappeared near Merlin and Horus, his presence commanding yet weary. As the flames receded, Ra returned to his mortal guise. With a subtle groan, he sank onto the steps leading to his throne, uncorking a jug of wine. He drank deeply, savoring the taste of life in a way only one who faced death every night could.

Horus stood silently, bowing his head out of respect.

Ra glanced at him, his gaze sharp and knowing. "You know when to keep quiet," he remarked.

Horus nodded. "There are no words for that."

Ra's expression softened, revealing the heavy weight of his eternal duty. His voice, tinged with sorrow, broke the silence. "How different things would be if I could dwell amongst my children in the garden of the Nile... Instead, it is my burden to fight the demon Apophis night after night, so that Egypt is not consumed by chaos."

Horus said nothing, his face grim.

Ra pointed a weathered finger toward the dark abyss below. "There are things worse than Set."

Horus stiffened, his voice laced with anger. "You're wrong."

Ra raised a brow, his tone cutting. "You'd say that? Even after what you've just witnessed?"

Horus's fists clenched. "That demon didn't rip out my father's heart. That demon isn't the one sowing war among the gods. It's your son."

Ra's shoulders sagged slightly, his voice carrying a mix of sadness and disappointment. "Both are my sons. They are equal in my eyes, as are all my creations. Set's path is uncertain, but that too is my will."

Ra studied Horus intently, his gaze piercing. "Why have you come here?"

Horus hesitated, knowing he would receive no direct aid. "Allow me to fill my flask with the waters of creation."

Ra tilted his head, considering this. "The waters are not mine."

Without another word, Horus leaned over the side of the hull, dipping his flask into the shimmering liquid. The Water of Creation sparkled as it flowed, not quite liquid, not quite air, a substance imbued with life itself.

Ra watched silently before speaking. "You plan to quench the desert fire? Bold. But if you kill Set, you will be king. How will you rule?"

Horus shook his head. "I don't know. I don't plan to rule at all."

Ra frowned, studying his grandson's resolve. "Grant me the power to fly again,"Horus pleaded.

Ra's expression darkened. "I heard your plea the first time. The only way to regain that power is to find it within yourself."

Frustration boiled over in Horus. "Without my two eyes, I doubt I can defeat Set!"

Ra sneered, his tone sharp. "Be strong. You've grown lazy in your despair. Have you forgotten that the life of a god is a journey? When you stray from your path, you weaken yourself."

Ra waved a dismissive hand. "Until you understand that, I have nothing more to say."

Horus turned away in anger, walking to the side of the barge to scream into the void, his voice swallowed by the silence of space.

As Ra drank from his jug, he turned his attention to Merlin, who had observed the exchange quietly. Ra raised a brow. "Do you have something to ask me?"

Merlin stepped forward, his voice calm yet probing. "Yes. Why do you stop yourself from punishing Set?"

Ra frowned slightly. "What do you mean?"

Merlin smiled faintly. "Although I am not perfect, I have a very good understanding of emotions," he began, studying Ra intently. "And you are very angry and deeply disappointed with Set. You wanted to punish him—truly punish him—but you stopped yourself at the last moment. Why?"

Ra's hand tightened on his jug of wine, the only sign of the storm of emotions swirling beneath his composed exterior. His fiery eyes locked onto Merlin's, searching for the motive behind the mortal's words.

"You presume much for a mortal, sorcerer," Ra said slowly, his voice carrying the weight of the cosmos.

"Perhaps," Merlin conceded, his gaze unwavering. "But it's not presumption—it's observation. You held back, even though Set's betrayal is a wound to your very essence. Why?"

Ra sighed heavily, setting the jug down beside him. For a moment, his gaze drifted to the endless expanse of stars surrounding the Solar Barge.

"It is not a matter you would understand," Ra said, his tone softer now but still guarded.

Merlin leaned forward slightly, his voice low and deliberate. "You're holding back because Set has a role to play, doesn't he? Something critical—something that even you can't do."

Ra turned his gaze back to Merlin, his expression unreadable. "You are perceptive, for a mortal," he admitted reluctantly. "But this is not your concern."

Merlin's smile widened, though it held no mockery, only understanding. "Let me guess," he continued. "You believe Set is the only one strong enough to take your place—to fight Apophis in your stead. That's why you gave him the desert to rule, isn't it? To prepare him for burden of loneliness in this darkness."

Ra sighed deeply, taking a long sip from his jug. "Set was chosen to bear the burden. Osiris could not; his heart was too gentle. I gave Set the desert to rule because his tenacity and will are unmatched. He is the only one who can stand against Apophis in my stead."

Merlin hummed.

"But," Merlin added thoughtfully, his tone now laced with concern, "have you considered whether Set even wants that role? He's never sought duty—he's sought power, recognition, and Egypt itself. Do you think he'll willingly leave his throne to fight Apophis every night alone?"

Ra's lips tightened, but he said nothing.

Merlin added softly, "Do you think Set is selfless enough to defend Egypt from the shadows?"

Ra's jaw tightened, his grip on his spear firm. "He will understand what is at stake. He will see reason."

Merlin tilted his head, his expression skeptical but respectful. "I hope you're right. Because if you're wrong..." He let the implication hang in the air.

Ra's gaze darkened, his inner turmoil clear. "It is a burden I must bear, sorcerer. What is done cannot be undone."

Merlin nodded slowly, understanding that this was a god's way of saying the discussion was over. "Very well," he said softly, stepping back. "But remember, even gods are bound by the choices they make."

Ra didn't respond, his eyes fixed on the horizon as the stars shimmered around them. As Horus soon returned, his expression bitter. He hadn't heard the conversation; Ra had ensured it.

With a wave of his hand, Ra summoned a glowing portal. "Off my boat, the both of you."

Horus scowled. "We'll leave, but I will avenge my father—with or without your help."

Without a word, Merlin and Horus stepped through the portal, leaving Ra alone under the canopy of stars. The weight of eternity bore down upon him as the Solar Barge sailed into the endless night.