This bit of fiction is based on the fact that both Seth (the Kemetic god) and Jesus Christ share a title “Lord of the Water.” (I found that bit of information here.)
This story also incorporates some of my personal gnosis about my gods.
It was calm, where the two gods stood. Seth found it easier to hold a conversation in the eye of a storm, rather than the middle of the howling wind and pounding rain.
“You’ve done this before, haven’t you?” Jesus said. “Calmed storms, done miracles, saved lives?” He rocked with the waves, keeping on his feet.
“You can do this,” Seth smiled. “I know it’s strange, being in human flesh, but humans can be great miracle workers to, as much as any god.” He changed the subject. “At our meeting in the desert, you said I wasn’t your Father’s lawyer. It wouldn’t have been fair, would it, being tempted by a friend?”
“You wouldn’t have offered me the world, would you?”
“No. Simply strength.”
“I have that.”
“I know.” Seth smiled, a bit sadly. He looked away quickly, before Jesus could see the sorrow in his eyes. Did he know, Seth wondered, what was coming for him? Did he know where preaching about love would get him? Or did incarnating into a human body and mind mean that he had no knowledge of the future?
“You should have seen their faces when I changed water to wine.” The laughter in the other man’s voice brought Seth out of his morbid thoughts.
“You were going to calm a storm,” Seth said. He waved a hand and the calm he had created so that they could speak in peace vanished, leaving them soaked in an instant.
Jesus grinned, holding up a hand. Seth stepped back to give him privacy, to let him pray to his Father. He turned, and began to walk; whatever impression his footsteps left was soon washed away by the waves of the sea.
As he walked, the rain slowed, the wind stopped. Seth stood still, not moving. He would only watch his friend; he would take no credit in this act, make no moves to help him.
As the storm cleared, Seth saw what had not been visible to him before. A ship. Those must be his disciples, Seth thought with a smile. When their paths had crossed, Jesus had always spoken of his followers with love.
He watched as Jesus caught one of the men, pulled him up out of the water when he had started to sink. He led him back to the boat, helped him in, and sat down beside him.
The exact opposite of my brother, Seth thought bitterly. And I was the only one strong enough to–. He closed his eyes. He did not wish to think of Osiris now. What was done was done. But the memories were back.
“Traitor’s son, murderer’s son. Get out of my sight!” He remembered the stricken look on Anubis’s face as those words were hurled at him. He had watched from the shadows, watched his child’s shaking hands as he brought his own uncle back to life. It had taken all his strength not to lunge forward, to grab his son, and run for both their lives.
He had later found the mask in the shape of a jackal on the steps of the temple, and his son nowhere to be seen, his belongings gone from their home. The only trace of him was his footprints, and those were soon swept away by the desert wind.
Perhaps there was truth to that story Jesus had once told him, about the son who came home after many years away. He hoped and prayed it was so. But if not, he would still love him, even as he invented a life for himself elsewhere.
Love, he knew, ran deep like still waters, and could be as endless as the sky.