Imaginary interview with Horus
by Charactorium · Horus · Mythology · 5 min read
Two young visitors, on a school field trip, stop before the statue of a falcon-headed god. That morning, in the golden light of a temple, Horus agrees to speak with them. They are hesitant at first, then the questions come.
—Is it true you fought your own uncle?
Yes, my child, and it is the greatest sorrow of my story. My uncle Set had killed my father Osiris to steal the throne of Egypt. Imagine: your family torn apart, and the one who should protect you becomes your enemy. I was young, but I did not look away. In the Pyramid Texts, this endless battle is told. I represent the order of the world; he, chaos, the disorder that destroys everything. It was not a fight to win, you see. It was so that justice could still exist. When a son avenges his father, he repairs the whole world.
When a son avenges his father, he repairs the whole world.
—And in the end, how did you win the throne?
Not by force alone, you know. A great trial was needed. Imagine a hall filled with gods, seated, listening to me and to Set, and having to decide who was the true king. It lasted a very long time, whole years. It is told in a very ancient text, the Papyrus of Chester Beatty. I claimed the throne because I was the legitimate son of Osiris. In the end, the gods ruled in my favor. I became the master of the lands of the living. That is why it is said that every king of Egypt is my heir.
One does not become king by force, but because the gods rule in your favor.
—Why do you have a falcon's head? Is it to scare people?
No, not to scare, my child. Look at a falcon in the sky: it flies very high, it sees everything, nothing escapes it. That is me. I am the master of the sky, the one who watches over the earth from above. The Egyptians gave me this head because the falcon is the most piercing, the fastest bird. Imagine being able to see the smallest grain of sand in the desert from the clouds. That is my gaze. When you see a falcon gliding without moving its wings, it is a little bit of me passing over your village.
The falcon sees everything from above, and nothing escapes it — that is my gaze.
—They say your eyes are the sun and the moon, is that true?
Yes, it is a beautiful story. My right eye is the Sun that warms the day; my left eye is the Moon that watches over the night. But during my battle with Set, my eye was wounded, then healed. That is the origin of the Eye of Horus, called the Oudjat. The Egyptians made small amulets of it, objects worn around the neck for protection. Imagine a tiny jewel watching over you while you sleep. It was the most powerful lucky charm in all of Egypt. A wounded eye then repaired: that is the symbol of everything that heals.
A wounded eye then repaired: that is the symbol of everything that heals.
—So all the kings of Egypt were a bit like you?
Exactly, and it is a magnificent thing. Every living pharaoh — the king of Egypt, considered a god on earth — received the title 'Living Horus' as soon as he ascended the throne. Imagine: the king was not just a powerful man, he was my living presence among men. On the walls of Abydos, the names of these kings are engraved, one after another. And this lasted over three thousand years, my child! Think about that: thirty centuries of kings bearing my name. No other god has held the hand of men for so long.
The pharaoh was not just a king: he was my living presence among men.
—What did the king wear to show he was you?
He wore a very special crown, the Pschent, called the double crown. You see, Egypt was once two lands: Upper Egypt in the south, Lower Egypt in the north. Two lands united into one. The double crown showed that the king held both in his hand, just as I hold the whole sky. Imagine two hats fitted together, one white and one red, placed on the same head. When the people saw that crown, they knew: here is the Living Horus, the one who maintains the order of the world. It was more than a jewel; it was a promise.
Two lands united on one head: that is the promise of the double crown.
—Where did you actually live? Did you have a house?
My true dwelling is the sky, my child. But men built me a house of stone to serve me: the great temple of Edfu in Upper Egypt. It is so well preserved that you can still walk through it today. Imagine immense walls covered with carved images, telling my battles against Set, scene after scene, like a great stone book. Every morning, priests entered, lit incense, brought me bread and beer. They served me like a living king. When you touch those walls, you touch over two thousand years of prayers rising up to me.
My true dwelling is the sky — but at Edfu, men built me a house of stone.
—What did the priests do for you all day?
They took care of me as if I were a living being, my child. In the morning, at dawn, when the sun rose, they opened my sanctuary and sang to greet the new day. They brought me offerings: fresh bread, beer, fruits, flowers. I do not eat like you, of course, but these gifts connected the land of men to the sky of the gods. In the evening, they closed everything with other prayers, so that I might travel peacefully through the night and return at dawn. Imagine a house where, every day, people wait for you and cherish you. That was my temple.
Every dawn, they sang to greet the day: that was what it meant to take care of a god.
—Is it true you had many different names?
Yes, and that is normal for a god as ancient as I am. When I was the all-powerful falcon of the sky, I was called Horus the Elder. When I was the little child hidden by my mother Isis, they said Harsiesis, 'Horus son of Isis.' Imagine changing your name according to what you do during the day. Later, I was even united with the great sun god Ra: together we formed Ra-Horakhty, the master of the sun. This is called a syncretism, when two gods merge into one. Having many names is not losing oneself. It is being present everywhere at once.
Having many names is not losing oneself: it is being present everywhere at once.
—And what happened to you when the Egypt of the pharaohs disappeared?
I did not disappear with it, my child, and that still moves me. Even when the Greeks, then the Romans, came to the lands of the Nile, I was still worshipped. The Greeks recognized me in their own god Apollo, the god of light. Imagine: a foreign people looking at my falcon face and finding their own sun in it. That is how my name crossed more than three thousand years. Even today, you may unknowingly wear my eye, the Oudjat, drawn somewhere. Gods do not die as long as children ask questions about them.
Gods do not die as long as children ask questions about them.
This imaginary interview was generated by artificial intelligence from sources documented in Horus's profile. It dramatises what the figure might have said based on what we know about them, but does not constitute attested historical testimony. For primary sources and factual documentation, refer to the full profile.