Lion Head Mesa what a grand and intoxicating innocence

Ah, Pharaoh’s favorite half-pint. With his accusatory bug-eyes.

No matter, no matter.

He turned his head just enough to look at the former vizier, face split around a lackadaisical smile.

Is it not common sense, Neb, that gods speak through priests? He looked to the distant sun.

I was called to return. Akhtar raised his head, feeling the breeze ruffle through his coat.

I am called to many great things.

You will go.

I will go.