Dreamful Bedtime Stories

Myths of Egypt: Set — Bringer of Chaos, Defender of Light

Jordan Blair

In this episode of Myths of Egypt, we uncover the complexity of Set: a god of chaos, but also of protection, strength, and cosmic balance. Feared and revered, Set is the god of storms, deserts, and upheaval who slayed his brother Osiris and battled Horus for Egypt’s throne. So snuggle up in your blankets, and have sweet dreams. 

The music in this episode is Over the Dunes by Jon Sumner. 

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Dreamful is produced and hosted by Jordan Blair. Edited by Katie Sokolovska. Theme song by Joshua Snodgrass. Cover art by Jordan Blair. ©️ Dreamful LLC

Speaker 1:

Welcome to Dreamful Podcast bedtime stories for slumber. I would like to start off this episode by thanking all of our supporters. You all help to keep the figurative lights on for the podcast and I appreciate you so much. If you find value in Dreamful and would also like to contribute to the show, visit dreamfulstoriescom and, on the support page, find a link to become a Buzzsprout supporter or subscribe via Supercast. If you listen on Spotify, you'll get access to subscriber-only episodes and a shoutout on the show. This is the fifth episode in the Myths of Egypt series, where we meet the god born of sandstorms and thunder, the one who shattered kings but held the stars in their courses. This is a story of set, bringer of chaos, defender of light. So snuggle up in your blankets and have sweet dreams ¶¶.

Speaker 1:

Beneath the blazing sky and drifting sands. Balance once held the world in place, but balance does not last forever. In the space between day and night, between the fertile black soil and the barren red desert, a figure stirred, brewing with unrest. Set was born on the edge of the world While his brother, osiris, emerged with grace and order. Set opened his eyes in the heat of the western desert, where nothing grew and everything waited to be taken. His hair smelled of scorched stone. His voice cracked like dry thunder. He was a god of searing winds and Nut the sky. Set was meant to be part of the divine harmony, brother to Osiris and Isis not rest easy. Within the family of gods, he prowled the margins. Where those built, he broke. Where they sing praises, he summoned storms.

Speaker 1:

Set's form was strange and unknowable a beast not of this world, with square ears, a Lion, crocodile, jackal, falcon, but not this one. Set's form was singular, an echo of something ancient and deeply unsettling. And yet, for a time he held his place among the gods. He fought at Ra's side on the nightly voyage through the underworld, standing at the prow of the solar boat sling the serpent Apep, when all else faltered. He was fierce, loyal in his own way, a god of necessary violence. But even the stars knew a storm cannot be leashed forever. The kingdom flourished beneath Osiris. Fields ripened, temples rang with song. The world knew peace, too much peace perhaps, for, said he watched his brother from a distance, watched the offerings pile like praise, watched the people bend their knees in reverence. And something twisted in him. It wasn't jealousy, it was the gnawing certainty that he too was meant to rule, gnawing certainty that he too was meant to rule, that his strength, his fury, his dominion over the wild edges of the earth had been overlooked, his crown stolen before it ever touched his brow. So Set began to plan. So set began to plan in secret. He crafted a box, no ordinary chest, but a masterwork carved of rare cedar, inlaid with lapis and gold. Its measurements were perfect, exact to the length and width of Osiris' noble form.

Speaker 1:

At a grand feast, with laughter rising like incense and wine flowing like the Nile, set revealed the chest. A gift, he said, a game. Let he who fits the box claim it. One by one, the guests climbed in Jesters and nobles gods, in silks and garlands, each too short, too tall, too wide, until Osiris stepped forward. Gracious, beloved and unaware, he lay down inside and the box received him like it had been waiting. In that breathless moment, set slammed down the lid, he sealed it tight with molten lead, he called to his men and together they dragged the chest through the halls, through the gardens, to the river's edge and flung it into the Nile. The laughter was gone, the feast had soured and the world, which had basked in the sunlight of Osiris, shivered beneath the first true shadow.

Speaker 1:

Set stood at the shore as the coffin drifted away, away. He had not only slain his brother, he had claimed the throne. But the gods are not so easily unseated, and neither is love. The coffin, floated, cradled by the Nile, drawn north to the edge of the world, it drifted past reed and root, past crocodile and village, until it reached the shores of Byblos, where it came to rest its journey, closing within the arms of a tree, came to rest his journey, closing within the arms of a tree. The tree, sensing something divine, grew wide and tall around the box, wrapping it in bark and silence until it vanished into its trunk. There the body of Osiris lay hidden, veiled in wood, remembered by no one save one.

Speaker 1:

Isis, searched through sandstorms and moonless nights, her steps guided by instinct and prayer, her steps guided by instinct and prayer. She had not only lost a king, she had lost her love, her future, the soul of the world. At last, she reached the tree and within it the chest, and within the chest, osiris. She brought him home. Set, seething with his stolen crown, watched from the shadows In the quiet, his eyes swept over her beloved. In the quiet, azazis wept over her beloved.

Speaker 1:

Set struck once more. He shattered the body of Osiris, ripping it apart with divine violence, his fury scattering the pieces across Egypt. Fourteen fragments plumbed to to river, to desert, to stone and field. Still, isis rose with the devotion of a goddess and the quiet strength of morning. She journeyed again alongside Nephthys and, guided by Anubis, she gathered the fragments of her beloved. She named him anew with each one she found, wrapping them in linen and and whispered magic. One piece remained, lost to the Nile. Yet even incomplete, her love shaped resurrection and Osiris returned.

Speaker 1:

Set stood atop the Red Lance, the desolate edges of the kingdom, his crown heavy with conquest, his throne set in shadow. The Nile no longer sang for him. It curved away from his reach, as if the river itself had turned its back. He ruled the upper land with a clenched fist. But the people whispered other names Osiris in the Duat, horus in Waiting, and Isis, forever watching.

Speaker 1:

The wind that once carried prayers to the heavens now churned with silence and unease In temples. His statues were draped in darkness. In hearts, his name stirred dread. He was not forgotten. He was feared. Set became a god of storms, of deserts and isolation. His power was raw, untamed and eruptive, the kind that cracked stone, that rattled the bones of the earth and swallowed caravan's whole. Exiled to the edges, set roamed lands that mirrored his unrest barren, sun-scorched, alive, with mirage. There were gods who sought harmony, and there they were. Set, born of conflict, shaped by it. Yet even in exile, he remained bound to the tapestry of the gods. He would rise again in stories as a force, dangerous, enduring and woven into the very balance he broke. And in the distance, a child stirred beneath the papyrus reeds. Set's name has echoed down temple walls and across desert sands, not always as a curse, but once as a crown. In the early hours of Egypt's rise. He was not a villain.

Speaker 1:

Set was originally a god of might, of desert wind, of foreign soil and protective strength. He guarded Ra's solar bark against the coils of Apep, standing firm where no other god dared, the quarrels of Apep standing firm where no other god dared. And in the deep south, where the land bled into sand, set was worshipped with reverence, his temples rising and nuked. His symbols etched into the memories of kings. The memories of kings. There was a time when Pharaohs bore his emblem, when his name appeared above royal Syrax. Set was strength, set was storm, set was sovereignty. But time changes gods, as it changes all things. As the myth of Osiris and Horus bloomed across the two lands, set's image dimmed. He was cast as the brother who betrayed the usurper, who turned kin into corpse. His red crown came to signify disruption. His dominion over foreign lands was reframed as a threat. And when foreign kings invoked his name, egypt recoiled and Set fell further into shadow by the twilight of the new kingdom.

Speaker 1:

Set was a god spoken of carefully, often with suspicion, sometimes with fear. He was linked to Typhon, the great monster of Greek lore, a god of chaos, exile and serpents. A god of chaos, exile and serpents. And yet, even then, the people remembered. They remembered the one who stood on Ra's al-Burj spear, raised against darkness. They remembered the desert's voice, the sharp-edged god who shaped the storm.

Speaker 1:

Set was never forgotten. He remained in spells and carvings and in the sound that speaks when the wind howls Beneath the blazing sky and drifting sands. Balance once held the world in place, but balance does not last forever. In the space between day and night, between the fertile black soil and the barren red desert, a figure stirred, brewing with unrest. Set was born on the edge of the world While his brother, osiris, emerged with grace and order. Set opened his eyes in the heat of the western desert, where nothing grew and everything waited to be taken. His hair smelled of scorched stone. His voice cracked like dry thunder. He was a god of searing winds and shifting sands, of violence, strength and foreign lands.

Speaker 1:

As the youngest son of Gaeb, the Earth, and Nut, the Sky, set was meant to be part of the divine harmony, brother to Osiris and Isis, kin to the very breath of creation. But even from the beginning, set did not rest easy within the family of gods. He prowled the margins. Where there is built, he broke. Did not rest easy within the family of gods. He prowled the margins. Where those built, he broke. Where they sing praises, he summons storms.

Speaker 1:

Set's form was strange and unknowable a beast not of this world, with square ears, a curved snout and a forked tail. The Egyptians could name every creature in their land lion, crocodile, jackal, falconcon but not this one. Set's form was singular, an echo of something ancient and deeply unsettling. And yet, for a time he held his place among the gods. He fought at Ra's side on the nightly voyage through the underworld, standing at the prow of the solar boat, slaying the serpent Apep.

Speaker 1:

When Olus faltered. He was fierce, loyal in his own way, a god of necessary violence. But even the stars knew a storm cannot be leashed forever. The kingdom flourished. Beneath Osiris, fields, ripened Temples rang with song. The world knew peace, too much peace perhaps, for, said he watched his brother from a distance, watched the offerings pile like praise, watched the people bend their knees in reverence. And something twisted in him. It wasn't jealousy, it was the gnawing certainty that he too was meant to rule, that his strength, his fury, his dominion over the wild edges of the earth had been overlooked, his crown stolen before it ever touched his brow.

Speaker 1:

So Set began to plan. In secret, he crafted a box, no ordinary chest, but a masterwork carved of rare cedar, inlaid with lapis and gold. Its measurements were perfect, exact, to the length and width of Osiris' noble form At a grand feast, with laughter rising like incense and wine flowing like the Nile. Set revealed the chest. A gift, he said, a game. Let he who fits the box claim it.

Speaker 1:

One by one, the guests climbed in Jesters and nobles Gods, in silks and garlands, each too short, too tall, too wide, until Osiris stepped forward. Gracious, beloved and unaware, he lay down inside and the box received him like it had been waiting. In that breathless moment, set slammed down the lid, he sealed it tight with molten lead, he called to his men and together they dragged the chest through the halls. They dragged the chest through the halls, through the gardens, to the river's edge and flung it into the Nile. The laughter was gone, the feast had soured and the world, which had basked in the sunlight of Osiris, shivered beneath the first true shadow.

Speaker 1:

Set stood at the shore as the coffin drifted away. He had not only slain his brother, he had claimed the throne. But the gods are not so easily unseated, and neither is love and neither is love. The coffin floated, cradled by the Nile, drawn north to the edge of the world, it drifted past reed and root, past crocodile and village, until it reached the shores of Byblos, where it came to rest its journey, closing within the arms of a tree. The tree, sensing something divine, grew wide and tall around the box, wrapping it in bark and silence until it vanished into its trunk. There the body of Osiris lay hidden, veiled in wood, remembered by no one save one.

Speaker 1:

Isis searched through sandstorms and moonless nights, her steps guided by instinct and prayer. She had not only lost a king, she had lost her love, her future, the soul of the world. Alas, she reached the tree and within it the chest, and within the chest, osiris. She brought him home. Set, seething with his stolen crown, watched from the shadows In the quiet. His eyes swept over her beloved Set struck once more, he shattered the body of Osiris, ripping it apart with divine violence, his fury scattering the pieces across Egypt. Fourteen fragments flung to river, to desert, to stone and field. Still, isis rose with the devotion of a goddess and the quiet strength of morning. She journeyed again alongside Nephthys and, guided by Anubis, she gathered the fragments of her beloved. She named him Anu with each one she found, wrapping them in linen and whispered magic. One piece remained, lost to the Nile. Yet even incomplete, her love shaped resurrection and Osiris returned.

Speaker 1:

Set stood atop the Redlands, the desolate edges of the kingdom. His crown heavy with conquest, his throne set in shadow. His throne set in shadow. The Nile no longer sang for him. It curved away from his reach as if the river itself had turned its back. He ruled the upper land with a clenched fist, but the people whispered other names Osiris in the Duat, horus in waiting, and Isis forever watching. The wind that once carried prayers to the heavens now churned with silence and unease. In temples, his statues were draped in darkness. In hearts, his name stirred dread. He was not forgotten, he was feared.

Speaker 1:

Set became a god of storms, of deserts and isolation. His power was raw, untamed and eruptive, the kind that cracked stone, that rattled the bones of the earth and swallowed caravans whole, and swallowed Caravan's whole. Exiled to the edges, set roamed lands that mirrored his unrest barren, sun-scorched, alive, with mirage. There were gods who sought harmony, and there they were set, born of conflict, shaped by it. Yet even in exile, he remained bound to the tapestry of the gods. He would rise again in stories as a force dangerous, enduring and woven into the very balance he broke. And in the distance, a child stirred beneath the papyrus reeds.

Speaker 1:

Set's name has echoed down temple walls and across desert sands, not always as a curse but once as a crown, in the early hours of Egypt's rise. He was originally a god of might, of desert wind, of foreign soil and protective strength. He guarded Ra's solar bark against the coils of Apep, standing firm where no other god dared and in the deep south, where the land bled into sand. Set was worshipped with reverence, his temples rising and nuked, his symbols etched into the memories of kings. There was a time when pharaohs bore his emblem, when his name appeared above royal Syrax. Set was strength, set was storm, set was sovereignty. But time changes gods, as it changes all things. As the myth of Osiris and Horus bloomed across the two lands, set's image dimmed. He was cast as the brother who betrayed the usurper who turned kin into corpse. His red crown came to signify disruption. His dominion over foreign lands was reframed as a threat and when foreign kings invoked his name, egypt recoiled and Set fell further into shadow by the twilight of the new kingdom.

Speaker 1:

Set was a god spoken of carefully, often with suspicion, sometimes with fear. He was linked to Typhon, the great monster of Greek lore, a god of chaos, exile and serpents. And yet, even then, the people remembered. They remembered the one who stood on Razprow spear raised against darkness. They remembered the desert's voice. The sharp-edged god who shaped the storm Set was never forgotten. He remained in spells and carvings and in the sound that speaks when the wind howls ¶¶, ¶¶, ¶¶, ¶¶, ¶¶, ¶¶, ¶¶, ¶¶, ¶¶, ¶¶, ¶¶, ¶¶, ¶¶, ¶¶, ¶¶. © transcript Emily Beynon you.

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