The Immortal Realm
Baalat leaned over the vision pool, intent, watching as Urhi-Teshub took refuge in a quiet alcove. He fell to his knees and wept, grieving, begging Teshub to restore Istara's heart to his. She glanced up as her consort, Horus, entered the hall, a small smile lifting the corners of his lips.
"You must be bored, to come here." He moved to her, curious. "What are you watching?"
She turned away. Without her gaze upon it, the scene faded, and the surface of the pool solidified, turning silver.
"Nothing of interest."
He lifted his hand to her, and she went to him, letting him take her into his embrace, his lips meeting hers, as fierce as the first time they touched, eons ago. He broke away, nodding at the pool.
"The others are talking, saying you are spending too much time here. You know it is useless to watch. You only torment yourself, seeing what we no longer have."
Baalat scoffed, dismissive. "I was curious to see what the mortals have made us into. I have a new name now, in the empire called Egypt, I am Hathor."
"And, are you still my consort, or have you gone to another?"
Baalat smiled. "I am still yours."
"At least our love remains sacred," Horus said, dry, eyeing the dormant vision pool, "even when all else is lost."
As he led her from the room, Baalat looked back, her heart filled with longing. Soon, she promised herself, she would return.
Hundreds of thousands of years ago, soon after their self-imposed exile, she had created the vision pool, yearning for the mortal realm. In its awakening, the pool had granted her a gift. She had seen the future. Her future. At first, she had been afraid, but as the epochs passed, she found her feelings shifting toward anticipation, then impatience.
At long last, the mortal Istara, had been born, and Baalat had watched her grow into a woman, suffering each agony with her, locked inside the immortal realm. Now, after eons of waiting, the time was approaching when everything would change.
Soon, Istara would set Baalat free.