Lion Head Mesa royal falcon flown unto the sun

optional pack activity, one post encouraged, this is the burial of ramesses <3 tagging @Naberius also for visibility since hes got a joining thread

the day of internment dawned dark with rain.

it turned the red sands outside akashingo to the hue of freshly spilled blood; it drenched the mesa itself and thunder transformed the morning into a downpour. 

the hemet-nekheb toula, he meant for her to walk at the head of this column leading from the mesa. the body of pharaoh would be drawn by the fellahin upon a low sledge of skins, @Tuna leading as chosen of the queen.

qiao was not among them.

behind toula and her retinue would come medusa and @Akhtar, who senmut had asked to sing the burial hymns of Osiris as they walked.

@Gucci, @Melody and tavina would bring up the rear, along with the guests @Harakhte and @Akhendes, who had been invited along with the prince's own court to attend this auspicious and somber event.

he himself, senmut, walked before all of them, calling out the titles of ramesses as akashingo proceeded to the tomb that the royal son siptah had seen built before his departure.

"here is Userma’atre’setepenre, Keeper of Harmony and Balance, Strong in Right, Elect of Ra. here is Ozymandias, Lord of the Red Land, Pharaoh of Akashingo." the procession had come to the stones of the great work, and here he helped toula step along the heavy stones. bidding bayek to roll back the weighty cover.

there was a scrape, and then the smell of sweet rot filled the air. senmut did not blink. he motioned the fellahin closer, and in some moments the mummified and skin-wrapped body of ramesses was laid beside satsu, the husk of maggie still curled at their feet, eternal servant to pharaoh and his deepest love.

"let him now go to join Royal and Divine Wife nekubi satsu, known in life as Sobekneferu, Chosen of the Red Sands."

it was done.

senmut looked to the young queen of the mesa now, welcoming her words with his green eyes.

she had been here before. so many months ago now, but the stretch of time felt like years. she had been small, walking near the feet of others, enchanted by the songs of the priests even then. and then, as she was now, she sang. the words rang clear, and her eyes were wet from their tears.
Toula could hear the song of her father in the drumbeat of their steps. and she sang to its tune, though provided different verses, her voice unwavering:

you are anointed with oil
your steps are light
go now to the land of reeds
i will not forget your lessons
i will not forget your love
Ra waits to embrace you
Osiris welcomes you
i will wait to be by your side once more
i will join you in the land of the dead one day
we will remember you as a god
when the river is high we all will remember your greatness
and how it was you who made us

it was Toula now who waded ankle deep in these waters. cold and biting, today, but the dark cloak of bearfur, and her grief, warmed her. Toula ascended the steps, near blind to those beside her—even as they took care to hold her dark, furred cape—now at the peak of her own grief. but this was not goodbye; it gave her much peace.
as Ramesses once had his own loved ones, Toula watched her father be lowered below. @Tuna passed her a bauble. it was a token of protection for her father to take with him, and she placed it where she knew it would go with him, and then she spoke:
goodbye, father. we will see one another again. you shall never be forgotten, nor all that you have built. your divinity continues; here is a place God rests, and as then for her father, an asp slithered over her paw. she felt it a sign of his presence. Toula remained still, lifting her head and peering to Senmut, feeling very good that this place was still so protected—but suddenly, also very tired.
still she stood tall. she was hemet-nekheb now.

poem to eb<3

Tuna did not know the customs of death in this red land.

but what she did know was that death was something that connected all. She wasn't a very spiritual nor even religious being, but Tuna did know that life was precious and often felt to be cut short by the slow sickle of death as He harvest the restless souls for life anew.

so when she was picked for her honoring task of leading the pull, tuna did so with a gentle might underneath the guiding eyes of the hem and her queen. She followed her instructions as closely as she could, thankful for the skins below to help make the drag just a little bit easier on her nimble body.

and once the body was buried with his once-beloved, tuna provided the gift for Toula and would come to stand quietly and attentive to the needs of her ruler. she listened to the words spoken, titles, and special phrases laced with a love so tangible within the air.

tuna did not know this pharaoh. but she knew he was loved, so perhaps that was all the information she needed to make a judgment upon his death.

Naberius stood on the sidelines and he was silent. Their customs may have been of slight difference to their own but as @Tuna had equally thought, death was shared by all, such as life. His sunburst eyes close as he listens to Toula's song, as the body of their once Pharaoh was laid to rest within the tomb. When it is finished, he remains still until it is told of him to be dismissed.

He walked beside a pale ghost, his voice rising and falling every time his feet touched the ground. He did not know this one, he felt as though he didn’t know any of them really. But, Akhtar was a man of many faces these days, so he put on the face of happy, if addled priest.

He let the practiced words tumble from his mouth like a river. His mind rolled in his head like a turbulent sea as he thought, over and over, about hundreds of things. Stupid things, thoughts were. Trapped in his head. But treasonous words were best left out of sight.

He kept up his song until they arrived beside the tomb, and then he would quiet the words, looking to his former apprentice and the queen to be. He felt a little flash of his previous words to the boy he had known and tried to reconcile the image with the one in front of him now.

The royals had paved their path in blood and bone, and buried Senmut at its peak. Internally, he sighed.

Foolish, foolish boy.

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he was soppin' wet, feet caked in bright red mud, pawpads tired form the waddling walk to the valley of royals. he hadn't had breakfast, had not caught medusa afore she rose that morn', and had to leave @Midas home else the poor boy catch his death in this weather.

gucci appreciated how it all made him appear appropriately miserable.

the tomb had fermented a rich, nauseating smell. he caught a peek; the former queen looked nothing like he remembered, more shape than person. eventually, ramesses would be the same. a memory of power, instead of fickle, failable man he was in life.

gucci felt a migraine comin'.

he wondered how many here would let themselves remember the reality of ramesses the second, first pharaoh of akashingo, of the lion-headed mesa it stood upon, of the slithering river and the hunting meadows-

the reality o' man driven by want for fame, for servants, for fucktoys, for a legacy that had scattered to four cardinal directions and left akashingo faltering beneath the rule of children not even third in line for the throne.

gucci shut his eyes, blinded by piercing pain through his skull. the tears were a nice touch.

he had to admit - he'll miss the bastard, and akashingo as it was before grief and treachery.