Those who say they know the gods say that Horus, the Desert Falcon, sees all that happens in The Sarklan. A desert eagle flies high above the wispy cirrus, where once a winged camel soared. Its piercing vision spies the temple opening and yet there is no prey in that arid land. But, he who used the raptor knew its import.
Memories stirred in the very heart of The Majestic One of a long lost friend, cursed by the Serpent, crushed by Divine Power, yet not devoid of hope. Resurrection? Could a DEAD God live? Not his place to intervene. All in the hands of mortals now.
The eagle turns and flies away. Ever searching. Ever hungry. But the Eye of Horus fixes its gaze upon the ancient temple, seeing all that can be seen. No other God but one has had its eye upon this place, and He that did would not intervene. Would Anu-Akma be called by the passing of a soul? Even Horus knew not this. He must wait. Like Providence, the fate of one once noble balanced tentatively on the sharp point of a deadly knife.