The Return of Ra’s Eye

The Eye saw firm ground beneath Ra’s feet, and hurried towards him.

When she had gone away, there had been nothing to stand on. Nu had stretched in every direction, dark water without a shore. Now a ridge of earth broke its surface. Ra stood upon it with his hands open, and Shu was already calling to him.

Tefnut caught her brother’s arm as he stumbled onto the wet ground. Together they climbed towards their father. The Eye followed, trailing a brightness over the water that narrowed behind her until it was only a trembling thread.

She had been with them through the long ages of their separation. Nu had held them all, but there had been no face to return to, no familiar brow above her, no voice close enough to answer. She had carried the memory of Ra into that darkness: the warmth of him, the place from which she had once looked out.

Now he was within reach.

Shu put his hands into his father’s. Tefnut pressed against Ra’s shoulder, and his arms closed around them both. The Eye came nearer, ready to enter the embrace.

Something shone on his cheek.

A drop fell past Tefnut’s arm. It struck the earth at their feet, but it did not sink into the soil. It lengthened. A small back curved where the water had been; hands opened against the mud. Another drop fell, and beside the first creature a second lifted its head.

The Eye stopped.

Ra’s tears kept falling. Men and women stirred beneath him, shaking the wetness from their faces. One tried to stand and sat down abruptly. Another reached towards the water, touched its dark surface, and drew the dripping hand back to examine it. Their voices were thin and uneven. The Eye had heard Shu call across the deep, but never these little sounds, so many of them, each from a separate mouth.

Ra bent over them. A tear hung at the corner of his eye, bright and round.

His eye.

She moved to see his face more clearly.

There was an Eye in her place.

It looked out from beneath the brow she remembered. When Ra turned towards Shu, its light turned with him. When Tefnut lifted her face, it shone upon her. It was settled there, within the warmth the returning Eye had carried in her memory through all that darkness.

She rose before him.

“Look at me.”

Ra lifted his head.

The new Eye looked straight into hers.

For a moment she could do nothing. She had expected the long distance between them to end when she reached him. Instead it had drawn itself into this small, unbearable space: his face before her, her place filled.

“Where am I to go?” she asked.

“You have returned.”

“Where?”

Her brightness sharpened. Gold struck across his cheek and the wet shoulders of Shu. Tefnut stepped back from the glare. Below them the new people lifted their hands before their faces.

Ra did not turn away.

“You were far from me,” he said.

“I was with your children.”

“And I made another Eye.”

She had seen it. Still, the words hurt more than the sight.

The Eye flared. Her light spread over the ridge, revealing every hollow in the damp earth, every ripple beyond it. Heat rose between her and Ra. The water at the shore flashed white, and the people’s small voices broke off.

She searched his face for some opening, some sign that he would put things back as they had been. The other Eye remained where he had made it.

“You gave it my place.”

“Yes.”

Shu stood beside Tefnut now. They had come home together, all three of them. Shu and Tefnut had found their father’s arms. She hung outside him, burning.

Ra raised his hand.

She drew back. She would not be gathered away, hidden somewhere behind that new light.

But his hand passed above his eyes. He touched the bare place on his forehead.

“Here.”

She held herself still. Heat trembled around her.

“Above it?”

“Above my eyes. At the front of my brow.”

Ra lowered his hand and stood waiting beneath her light.

“From there you shall rule over the land.”

The Eye looked at the place he had touched. There was nothing between it and the world. No other brightness occupied it. Yet it was unfamiliar, and the anger in her had not gone out.

She came closer.

Ra lifted her to his brow.

At his touch her burning brightness drew together. It gathered into a long, living curve, warm against him. She felt the strength of a coiled body beneath her, the narrow weight of a head she could raise. Her hood opened.

The Eye stood upon Ra’s forehead as a cobra, upright and bright with fire.

For an instant she looked down. The other Eye was below her. It had not vanished; its light still fell upon the earth. She could feel Ra beneath her coils, steady as the ground beneath his feet.

Then she raised her head farther.

The ridge opened before her. Beyond it lay the dark breadth of Nu. Shu and Tefnut stood to either side, their faces lifted towards her. No part of Ra’s face enclosed her view. She could look outward over everything that had emerged from the water.

Her heat settled. The hard white glare drew back from the shore, and the ripples became dark and gold again.

Below, a woman slowly lowered the hand she had held across her eyes. She looked up at the cobra, then down at the earth, and pressed her palm against it. Beside her, the man who had fallen tried once more to stand.

Ra turned towards them. The Eye turned with him, her hood spread above his brow.