beautiful boy

ibrahim refused to open his eyes. he floated in the waters, never struggling. he was slow in his trials. alone, the cub was still too young to have understood his teachings until he stood before the gods. taliba, aiman. baba. where was everyone?

the gods had returned him to the waters. did he fail? these tides were gentler, rocking him in their arms like the mother he never had. he nearly sobbed in the warmth. but it was time to go. ibrahim couldn't breathe anymore in these waters. little limbs padded upwards, regretfully tearing away from water mother's embrace. the golden boy tore through the water's seam, and firey gaze looked around.

“baba!” his raspy voice sobbed out, paddling to stay just above the water.

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 a prayer spoken over the water, just as something—no, someone—rose up toward her as the fellahin watched with shock and awe. their Goddess, who called forth one more!—
 was it that? was it not? she did not care, for she would seek to take hold of them in gentle jaws and guide them to shore, if allowed! and if not, if fear struck them and they fled from her, she would offer her body as their buoy; one look to her fellahin had them running to summon @Mesen-ka to where she stood!

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He had been posed by King @Rashepses when a servant burst up the highrocks. 

Mesen-ka was numbfooted and greasyfurred. Tired, but moving, working. Readying to push mazoi across the border with him for the next patrol route. They needed to prepare for the altars of worship.

"I have mazoi ready to follow me across the desert in your name and honor. We can not live in a land bereft of worship and order to the kingdom." His wrist drRoughlroughly against his own chest, firm. "Tell me what it is you seek, King, and I will find it for you." 

Then a servant came.

They waited, but frantically– looking upon them at a distance, brother and brother, and Mesen-ka gave no mind to the fellahin of Rashepses until he heard their shaken breath. He looks to them only once with a silent warning he truthfully had no energy to give.

And still they remained, and in the next moment as the words left the little fellahins mouth, Mesen-ka dishevels and his posture ruins. The peltskin falls from his shoulders and his eyes turn crazed with emotion.

His son! His son! Ibrahim! His voice is raw. "Him!" He breaks the perch and is running. He can not get there fast enough, but he is is running with the fellahin leading way. Take me to my son!

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Squeezing my way in here <3

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From the corner of her eye, she sees her father's autumnal form fly across the sands, servant ahead of him. Something falls heavy into the pit of her stomach. Wordlessly, she stares. Her mind slow, she processes the logical conclusions.

Her father was a guardsman; a kingsguard. A kingsman would hurry to the side of their royal. But her father did not run alongside their king. The full force of their mazoi would be rallied to protect their pharaoh.

Could it be?

Hope's breath filled her lungs and set her limbs into motion. It whispered to her, ordered her to follow. Obeying, sand kicked up from under her feet as she raced after her father. Silent prayers to their gods filled her thoughts. Prayers that this glimmer of hope would not be a dying one.

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