A quivering, outstretched talon pointed to the figure of the curved-billed deity through Xantheaa's bloodshot eyes and harrowed breath that measured the countenance of corrosive hatred befallen upon her.
Slowly, she gathered air in her lungs, as if she had undergone a most dramatic session of anaerobic exercise; all to douse the roiling pit of rancor that was brewing inside her chest with every agonizing, spiteful word. "You... did this to me!" she growled, between gnashed teeth.
Noting her apparent change in demeanor, Thoth peered quizzically down at the small harpy in his sacred chambers.
"I invited you in here as a guest." He replied. "It is only natural that one must show deference when given entry to another man's home."
He seemed a little amused that someone would dare to stand up to him in full view. So used to the cowering, tremulous figures of the denizens of his own world was he, that he didn't seem to notice the inherent danger that her demeanor carried with her.
Ma'at, however, remained well-acquainted with the wiles of sinful, hubris-laden mortal impiety. So, she carefully stepped between her husband and his challenger; despite his curious defiance. He almost spoke up against her decision, but his countenance lowered when he met her gaze. She was not even slightly unsure.
Truthfully, Xantheaa was sick to death of getting thrown to the whimsy of the gods. That was the third time her agency had been taken away fully disregarding her will, and had more than enough reason for vexation before he had even met with her. Someone needed to answer for her life's conditions, and all he had afforded her was an excuse to let loose.
"What nature is that?! And who decided that nature should be formed in such a fashion? Was it not for your own satisfaction that honor be settled in such a manner?! You know full well that I did not journey to your domain to be interred without reason nor requisitionary precedent! Have you once wondered how your subjects must feel to be so indefensibly repressed?!"
Ma'at replied, starkly. "Watch your tongue, you Islet Stylite. You stand before the presence of the God of Knowledge. How dare you even suggest that a mortal soul can possess faculties capable of understanding a decision made with a divine level of thought? Your impiety will cease, or I will exact much righteous indignation upon you."
It wasn't a threat so much as a legal disclaimer for what would come next; spoken with all the poise and candor of a lawyer examining a witness in a court of law. In all truth, she was more than happy to defend the honor of her beloved with all her authority—Namely, pure overwhelming physical brutality as afforded by her supernaturally imbued musculature and frame—Thrall heard the promise behind that threat, and went to grab the harpy's shoulder, but she shook it off. She would not be calmed just yet.
"Why, do you not feel so morally satisfied with your sovereignty. Oh, To be able to exact your ideas of justice upon any object that peaks your fancy, except those who have the power to refuse you. You should feel ashamed for your actions. For to me it seems the Egyptians have their prayers answered by nothing more than a bully!"
"Enough." Ma'at bellowed, her voice filling the vacuous space of the structure with its unrelenting force, and thrumming heavily through the stones underfoot. "I am the force that gives justice meaning, and without my presence it would cease to exist. All forms of consequence both karmic and otherwise would vanish without my actions upon this realm. You are so simple-minded that you challenge based on premises you only shallowly understand. You shame your own gods to give voice to such asinine tripe."
Xantheaa shook her head, and smiled at the ground as she thought aloud, "No, it is my understanding that proves how small your grasp on other realms has been; for it is the gods who have shamed themselves." She raised her wings behind her back as if to mimic the form of a sail, as Thrall simply looked on with disbelief—for he knew what was about to come next. He threw his hands before his face to protect his eyes, just in time to hear her meekly utter a single word. "Ruach."
A shower of loose earth and pebbles exploded in a radial formation as a gust of wind burst into her awaiting median coverts—the force exacted therein catapulting her at unimaginable speed, with talons outstretched to rake at the eyes of her mammoth interlocutor. Ma'at had a most superior reflex time, as she consciously registered Thrall's defensive action, and similarly braced her cumbersome forearms in the path of Xantheaa's attack.
Normally, her bronze-like skin, and hypernaturally wound biceps the circumference of an oak tree, would be impervious to any attack within the mortal lands. Her thick hide may dent or even char under the force of a cannon or missile, but things like spears and bullets would ricochet off of her flesh like they were made of rubber. It was to her unconscionable surprise, and the absolute consternation of everyone in attendance, that a gold fluid slowly flowed from the surface of eight vertical scratches that appeared upon her left supinator; just near the elbow.
"Aughh!" She screamed. "You damned akh! How could a mere servant of Typhon injure me?!" She swatted at the fleeing figure as her smaller form quickly circled around for another pass to the titanic woman's backside; rocketing down to leave a row of deep, diagonal gashes across her back. The thick, protuberant muscles lining her back did fairly little to stop her claws in their torturous advance.
Thoth's eyes widened in shock at the sight. It had been centuries since anyone had dared to act in open defiance of the gods of Egypt, and millennia since anyone had even come close to injuring the mighty Ma'at, who was among the most formidable among the warriors in the Egyptian pantheon. Many may profess to more brutal techniques, or mastery of a blade, but all answered to her when it came to straightforward visceral might.
Unfortunately, this was a wholly disadvantageous matchup for the imposing, gigantic Amazonian. Given Xantheaa's tremendous evasive capabilities, and superior piercing aptitude, she could do little more that swing wildly at shadows, as her defenses were slowly chipped away. In this instance the mighty Goddess of Justice was little more than a tatami mat for this lowly harpy to test the sword of her talons against.
"What is this monster that you have brought into my sanctuary?!" he demanded of the spider, who still rested in the safety of his palm. Anansi could only stare in awe at the superior skills that she was able to express, and his gaze became only hungrier.
"I did not know that the creatures of Greece had so much power, my King. I would not have wished any harm to come of you, please let me go with them that we might be free from their aggression. It is me that they want, is it not?" He lied, having no intentions of abandoning the great leverage that had just appeared.
Thoth just shook his head, at the idea. "No, this isn't her own power. Ruach is one of the names in the true tongue; a language not spoken in the world of Greece. I will not have you sacrifice yourself to beings that play with a disordinate advantage." His eyes locked on Thrall, who couldn't meet his gaze. He wasn't about to just let her ravage his wife's form completely unimpeded, though.
So, he whispered, "It isn't fair that you use the power borrowed from another God to sate your lack of devotion, and how can it be allowed that words stolen from another land spread the abandonment your deity cast upon you?" and in that very instant, her spurs caught in the flesh of Ma'at's abdomen.
Xantheaa flapped wildly to regain her past momentum, but all the power had left her wings in that second. "W-what?!" She cried, managing with all her might to remove herself from the skin that seemed suddenly as impenetrable as legends foretold, but not quickly enough to escape the vast, calloused sprawl of her opponent's opened palm as it swatted her from the air.
She crashed into the earth with a force that troubled the heart to witness, sending vast rivulets of blood into her throat and mouth. Quickly climbing to her feet, she dove out of the way of the three ton foot that slammed into the spot where she just was.
Thrall shrieked in loathsome contrition. "Xantheaa! No, look out!" His hands flew to his head as he could only watch in horror at the proceedings. Another fist slammed into the earth, knocking him from his feet.
'What has happened to my power?!' she wondered in complete confusion. 'Ruach suddenly won't answer!'