Luneshale Pass emotional torture

Youth. Sweetness. Kindness. A mortal’s fleeting delights. A mortal will marry for looks, for laughter or status. Possibly, even, for love. If Rashepses chose in this way, he would have wed his priestess, or the first man he’d ever taken to his bed. But the Gods marry for blood.

“Your Queen will marry an eternal son,” his voice was prophetic. “This is a half-life for her. It is transitional, a short period before moving into the next. Your Queen is deathless,” the riverlord postured in kind. His smile commiserates the mortal condition.

“Any man can learn to offer mortal joys, Zaahira. Our names will live on through centuries. We will become like Iset and Horus and keep watch over the mortal generations to come; your children’s children, and their’s.”

Vein for vein his line was pure. His father was God, his brother was God, Rashepses was God, and when he put a son in Toula, he would be also a God. Because the Gods marry for blood.

“Do anything for her, Zaahira. Serve her with loyalty undying because she is your Queen- but remember, she is my Goddess.”