Khasekhemwy waved the question aside. “You may call me zekhau. It is perfectly appropriate to use a deity’s epithet in the place of their real name, although there is a subtle formality distinction between using that and seba’iqer or sayedy. Seba’iqer and sayedy are titles, the same as ‘sir’ or ‘ma’am’ in English. Epithets are not really used in modern English, but they stand in lieu of a name rather than a title. Epithets typically refer to a specific aspect of a deity’s godly role, and the majority of them have been derived from polytheism. Each deity has literally hundreds of epithets, so you would not be expected to memorise all of them.” He shrugged. “There is really no right or wrong way to address an original fairy, provided you are polite and avoid using the name. Where possible use that original’s own language or the ancient language.”
He had kept his hands on the mug when he’d set it down upon the table, so he was hunched forward a little. The mug seemed tiny in his hands, which were long-fingered and bony. No deity had ever looked less godly or intimidating.
“I had not appreciated how little you knew of the original fairies,” a light frown creased his brown brow. “I will have to give you an overview.”
He was distracted from doing so when Danny asked about the ancient language. Perking up a little, Khase picked up the book again and flicked through until he found the word for ‘scribe’. He showed Danny the important determinative involved – a glyph depicting a scribal palette – and explained how the determinative of the man at the end of the word indicated that the word referred to a person.
“You would not expect to see ‘the Scribe’ as a name,” he continued. “But as one of my epithets, it would always be written in a cartouche.” He flicked through until he found a name in a cartouche to show Danny: the glyphs were enclosed in a thin piece of rope. “Names of gods or kings are always written in cartouches. Since the original fairies’ names are often avoided, where an epithet is used instead of a name, that is written in a cartouche too.”
He leant back a little in his seat. “I will give you a few deity overviews today, starting with the ones you are most likely to meet.
“The original fairies collectively form an intergalactic organisation known as the Council of Originals, which was formed in approximately 1350 BC. The Council of Originals works to promote peace, both amongst fairies and between fairies and other species; it protects the secrecy of fairies on Earth; and, most importantly, it protects ordinary fairies from the original fairies. Since its conception, the council has grown and developed sub-organisations, most notably the Star Chamber, the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, the Divine Scribes and the Alliance. The Star Chamber is the court which tries original fairies for crimes against the council; the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, more commonly and informally known as the divine triad, is the ambassadorial and diplomatic centre of the council; the Divine Scribes are the archivists, messengers, historians and administrators; and the Alliance is the military and intelligence organisation.
“Tsi is the Chairman of the council; Allianah is the Guardian of the council and the head of the Alliance; Zed is the Intergalactic Ambassador, the head of the Intergalactic branch of the diplomatic triad, the overall head of the diplomatic triad, and the High Judge of the Star Chamber; Mallos is the International Ambassador and the head of the International branch of the diplomatic triad; Lorraine is the Interspecies Ambassador and the head of the Interspecies branch of the diplomatic triad; and I am the Scribe of the council and head of the Divine Scribes. Rhaegar, Xephyr, Gwythr and Charlton are all members of the council but hold no specific role. Sennefer is the only original fairy who is not a member of the council.” He picked up the sahlab and took a sip; his throat had grown dry from talking. “That’s it. Eleven of us left. There were twenty-five original fairies in the beginning; the other fourteen are dead now.”
A hint of emotion crept into his voice somewhere in the last two sentences, and silence fell immediately after. Khase avoided looking at Danny and lifted the mug to his lips again, even though he’d finished the sahlab, just to give his mouth something to do. Fourteen was an awfully high death toll for an immortal race who had only numbered twenty-five to start with.
“Who would you like to learn about first?” He asked unexpectedly, switching tactics to place the lesson plan in Danny’s hands. His dark eyes were unusually bright and curious. “Which of the deities interests you most by reputation?”
khasekhemwy
patron deity of palestine
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