Sky Mesa silk & stone

no posting order! <3 i had an idea
edit: future-dating this for tomorrow/next day

when he quit that prison room a second time, khusobek made his choice with bullheaded anger. it was not impulsive; it was the overbearing act of a father who knew only one way to protect.

he bid @Safiya pack for a small excursion, an overnight camp along the desert's mesa. khusobek promised from there they might see the stars, and he did not lie.

it was @Machiavelli who he chose for the out-run, and as evening darkness gathered in maroon palms the sunlight of day, he pointed toward the far-distant shadow of akashingo. "do you see it, safiya?"

Safiya packed a kit of essentials. Food, drink and followed behind her father. Her sisters words ringing in his head. The bitter tasted of acidic words on her tongue. She had sunk to Tiyes level amd she hated herself for it.

She was surprised to see Machi and thrn she stared at her father unsure. Untrusting. He never did anything without a lesson.

Yes.

Being summoned to leave the palace alongside Khusobek and Safiya was surprising enough, but the fact that Khusobek himself had beckoned him was nearly shocking. Machi trailed behind the pair, his pawsteps light, ears twitching as he watched them in silence.

Khusobek’s anger radiated in palpable waves, nearly hotter than the sun-scorched sand beneath their paws, yet—for now—it didn’t seem aimed at Machi. Still, the tension was undeniable, as Safiya’s mood seemed equally strained. Machi’s thoughts drifted, wondering if this had anything to do with the fight she’d had with her siblings the night of her ceremony. That chaotic evening had spiraled out of control so quickly that even the half-breed wasn’t entirely sure what had transpired.

Had Tiye told Khusobek what happened? Or Safiya, perhaps? A flicker of unease passed through the dog. If either of them had shared the details of that disastrous night, there was a good chance Khusobek had something unpleasant in store. Something that wouldn’t bode well for the one who had dared to call his children gutter rats, even if they had in fact been behaving like them.

Machi found his gaze wandering over the red-furred Mazoi, peering for any signs of a certain thorn whip.

lmk if this messes w the timeline for anyone and I'll move it up a little more! <333

"good."

she would hear the hoarseness in his voice as he unslung his own pack — yam root, mutton, honeyed fruits, even a carefully wrapped bark-wrap of sweet sap, to keep beneath her tongue on a long patrol. all arranged by inji for safiya, silent and solemn-faced the night before.

slowly he handed this bundling to machiavelli, exchanging a long look with the pale fellahin.  there was some understanding now, perhaps.

his heart was breaking, twisting painfully inside himself; he turned toward safiya, lowering himself to her level; "how tall you are, my girl. my fierce soldier." it took more moments than he might have allowed, but the man steeled himself, cupping her girlish face in one broad, roughened paw. "that place is where you are going. you have done no wrong, safiya. it is the man. soto." there could be no farewells or opportunity for the girl to speak any word of this to that creature whom she had visited again.

"i am sending you to akashingo for your own safety. you must ask yourself what a man of that age wants with a girl of your own. it is not my reputation over which i worry, habibti. it is your very body and soul."

"he knows your face, many times. he brings gifts for you. he sings to you; my girl. this is courtship." khusobek drew a great breath. "as mazoi, we protect the palaces. this is your role. you will perform it as magnificently as you have and you will come back to muat-riya wiser."

his gaze was now level on machiavelli, lapping water; "you are her friend. i did not understand. now i do. bring her safely to akashingo. see she is settled. then return. our hebsut will have need of you."

achingly he addressed safiya again. "take the pass down from this mesa; go directly though. luneshale is too far." his eyes asked if she hated him; he could not bear it. but his mouth was set in resolution. "there is a very muddy corridor in the cenote stained with sand and murk each day from our feet. i will see that tiye becomes quite acquainted with its cleansing."

he offered the bittersweet morsel, feeling the great horrendous pain of heart rending once more. if this was where their bond must end, khusobek in much agony was willing to sacrifice it, if only she was safe.

Safiya studied her father. There was a difference to his bearing and his voice. Things he taught her to look for. Something bad was coming. And she felt her shoulders tighten in anticipation.

She saw the pack and stared. This was more than a one day stay. What was happening?

When her father bent to her level, something in her chest tightened and hurt. If she hadn't done anything wrong, why did it feel like it? Was it because she had talked to someone? She had only been being nice. Was it because she was mean to Tiye, was she truly her father's favorite child? Was this her punishment? Because she had been mean?

Then the words came. Soto. She had only talked to him, and even that was not something she had done a lot of. The man couldn't understand her and she couldn't understand him.

Her small lip trembled. But she bit it hard. So hard in fact that blood came. She lowered her eyes. 

A small nod of understanding. Even if she didn't understand. I was only nice to him baba.

She took a deep breath and another. Steeled her spine. Painfully aware that all eyes were on her, and she was close to breaking. 

She took another breath and leaned forward to lean her forehead against his. I'm sorry that I was nice, papa.

Machi took the bundle slower perhaps than it was given, the confusion that initially clouded his expression gave way to a grave, somber understanding. This was not a camping trip—it was a farewell. The weight of it settled heavily in his chest.

He remained silent, allowing Khusobek and Safiya their moment of goodbye without intrusion. Yet, when "The man. Soto." was mentioned, the dog’s ears pricked forward with keen interest. The name was unfamiliar, and it sparked his interest. The explanation that followed, however, ignited more than curiosity. Slowly, steadily, the cold focus of his attention boiled into fury.

Courtship. A child. Courtship.

The thought pounded through Machi’s mind, repeating with mounting intensity. A face formed in the shadows of his memory—golden and silver with predatory eyes of hawkish gold. It took every ounce of control to keep his expression neutral, the quartz calm of his features betraying nothing. Yet behind the statued exterior, the fractured glass of his eyes glinted with a promise of violence. His lip curled slightly— a pleasant smile to further mask the hatred burning beneath it. It will be done, Captian. A promise.

After that, he fell silent once more. Machi’s brow furrowed as his gaze drifted to the girl, small and fragile in this moment, teetering on the edge of tears. Something buried stirred within him at the sight—something he thought long dead. Wordlessly, he turned his head, granting them a moment of privacy.

But even as he did, his thoughts burned with the image of the face. If the man still drew breath by the time Machiavelli returned to the Blue Palace, he would soon wish he didn’t.

"oh, safiya, no, no." khusobek had not cried in a remembered time but he felt the surge of them threaten now. "never lose your kindness, habibti. do not let him take that from you."

"you did nothing wrong." he kissed her forehead and straightened. "i do not mean for you to be gone so long." only that she was departed long enough for khusobek to thrust the man's eyes down his very throat, to bury him in the sand.

"our pharaoh prizes kindness. she is gentle; she is soft, though she is steel as well. you will do well in her halls, safiya."

he felt the stirrings of machiavelli's resolute aura; he joined them with his own and embraced the girl once more. "go now. i will come to akashingo when i am able. send word when you arrive, machiavelli."

if he did not let her go now, khusobek was unsure he could at all.

She did nothing wrong. But she was being punished none the less. She did not get to say goodbye to her mother or her siblings. Granted part of her didn't care to say goodbye to Kheti and Tiye and yet part of her did.  She was being thrust into training before she was well trained. Because she had been kind to someone who she was not supposed to be kind too?

But how was that determined. He had never been cruel to her. He had not spoken rudely to her as far as she could tell. But there was a language issue.

She looked up at her papa and gave a firm nod. Slowly she lifted her pack and she looked to Beastie with a small smile. Though it hurt. It hurt. But she stepped as fearlessly into this unknown as she did everything else. With a held high chin and the spine of a soldier.