Lion Head Mesa got a man, don't need him

there was a dark man who had come like a warhorse. if he ever crossed her path, she did not hide her gaze from him. large and muscular. scarred.

she sat in her throne room and thought on this face.

as if she might materialize the man before her. there was an easier way to bring him to her, this she knew. her shoulders rolled back as her spine hardened some. eyes upon a fellahin.

go. bring the man of shadows and seastones to me. she would wait to see the face of @Ingram in her throne room.

he is summoned.

led to the throne room by an attendant to the new pharaoh; ingram's pace slows as he approaches the throne where she awaits.

seaglass gaze flickers over her for a moment before it lowers, along with his head, shoulders dropping slightly in a brief show of submission.

you summoned me, pharaoh? inquires the patronsaint, wondering if he would be welcome here in the wake of political turmoil that had taken akashingo by storm.

of course she had! she lingered in silence for a moment. eyes heavy upon him to see what exactly had come to akashingo in its turmoil.

i did. she tilted her chin up slightly, testing the air around him. plucking for things that might be found. i know nothing of you. a warhorse come to us in a time of change walking my halls. a smile that did not fully reach her eyes.

so tell me.

warhorse.

not precisely a title ingram would've given himself but true, he supposes.

but not a trojan horse.

despite that he is uncertain of what will follow this change and where he fits into this puzzle for his accord was with the old pharaoh and his queen ...and toula! he wonders what this means for the princess of whom he had taken briefly under his wing during her tenure in basilica.

it is not for him to know. at least, not right now. first, came figuring out where he stood.

i am a warrior and a priest. a new acolyte to the deathlord osiris. his priesthood stemmed further back than that, from the moment he drew his first breath, even! praimfaya had believed in a form of reincarnation for the commanders and he has heard their whispers all his life.

but that is going back far.

i was the dreadfather of basilica and now i am simply ingram. a king with a splintered crown lain to rest at his paws: a reminder and perhaps a warning.

aha! Osiris had come to sweep over akashingo with the passing of her father — she had known this the moment she had seen him. hulking and dark, haunting holy places and figures.

did it endear her or sour her?

which do you mean to be most? a priest? or a warrior? senmut might have a field day with this one! she thought of the hemets too. qiao with a sharpness. nala with a tremble. there must be balance in the house and perhaps ingram was that. perhaps her father's passing had brought a kindness to see one of osiris fill the space.

she already planned for him, but listened for the answer he may give.

choose.

he had never before made himself choose: he was both. a warriorpriest. but with vague understanding of how their rank systems may work thanks to toula's teachings, he knows both isn't really an option.

to his roots the patronsaint goes.

priest. it was where obsession would lead him, in the end.

consider it so.

her voice bloomed in the room. some sense of warmth given to him now. you may be a pupil beneath the hem and hemets present now. let the blessings of Osiris flow through you, bring his favor upon akashingo. it is a grand honor.

now she halted, a brow pitched. did he find it tasteful?

it is so.

there is weight of the newly appointed title.

shattered, broken crown reforged into priestcape upon his shoulders.

ingram, hem of osiris. eager student.

thank you, pharaoh. rumbles the patronsaint; soft whiskey steeped in smoke, pitched quiet so it does not echo in the throne chamber. i will serve you and osiris to the best of my abilities.

i know you will,

for there is no room for anything else! lest they bring down the wraith of Osiris instead. perhaps in some ways they already had, but she set it aside.

do you have any worries before you walk from here?

the kindest she has been so far! yet he has earned it, for now.

of worries he has plenty!

not many have to do with akashingo directly.

he thinks of ash paw, of his moonchildren she carries. not his by fleshblood but by choice ... despite the distance between them.

not at this moment. that was not to say he might not confide them with her at a later time. but not now. not yet. not while everything in akashingo — his place especially — is still so new.

good, and she meant it! even for such flatness of an answer. now she motioned softly towards the door, out where the rest of akashingo laid.

go. familiarize yourself with the holy figures, priest and priestesses of akashingo.

he has been sorted, a purpose given. now he can be tested upon it as the time stretched.

as you wish, pharaoh. it feels familiar, this want to follow. simple. almost like donning the cloak of iron guardian but that boy was long gone, killed by the dreadfather. still, there is a relief in no longer being responsible for lives beyond his own.

he takes his leave when he is dismissed, deigning to learn the lay of the land and make introductions.