Ocean's Breath Plateau scarabs

If you'd like, Eminence, Machi responded, falling into step behind Senmut with a sense of quiet reverence. They truly are remarkable, he agreed softly, pondering his companion's offer.

It was a moment before the man spoke again in quiet reflection, Real knowledge is to know the extent of one's ignorance, his voice a near whisper. My mother shared those words with me once, when I was but a boy, He paused, a wistful smile playing upon his lips. Young and foolish, I fancied myself the center of the universe, arrogantly convinced of my own infallibility.

I engaged in an argument over a subject I knew naught about, blindly clinging to my supposed intellect. Oh, I was clever indeed, believing I could speak no wrong, His gaze wandered between the towering trees, lost in a reverie of distant memories.

Needless to say, I was swiftly proven mistaken, and the truth stung worse than any blow I had received, he admitted with a disparaging chuckle. I stormed to my mother in a fit of indignation, demanding vengeance for those who dared to challenge me! How could I, all-powerful whelp that I was, be ignorant of anything?

But, Machi continued, his voice softening with remembrance, she sat me down and offered me a piece of her wisdom. 'Little Highness,' —or some equally endearing moniker— 'Tha' claims to know everythin', yet does tha' know th' best way to catch a hare?' he recounted with a wry smile.

'Of course not!' I exclaimed, my pride wounded. 'That is the task of a servant!' Machi met Senmut's emerald gaze with a grin, before continuing his recounting, 'Then, tha' doesn't know everythin' by tha' own admittance! True knowledge lies in understandin' t'breadth of tha' ignorance.

She was always quick-witted, my mother, He mused, a flush of embarrassment coloring his cheeks as he recalled the exchange with a humorous shake of his head. Forgive me, I fear this tale may not be as enthralling as tales of sorrow, but it is one I hold dear nonetheless, he apologized, his gaze dropping to the forest floor. But alas, such terrible stories are not easily shared, especially with one who bears the dual mantle of holy priest and noble prince, The fellahin added with a rueful smile.

After a moment's pause, Machi summoned his courage once more. If I may be so bold, perhaps we could regale each other with tales of woe over a shared meal sometime. Somewhere quiet, with less chance of prying ears, he proposed, not bothering to hide the note of hope in his tone. There's nothing quite like good food and wine to ease difficult conversations and find humor in the horrific, wouldn't you agree?