Two Eyes Cenote Shadows fall and hope has fled

Eset was thinking of the little girl from the party as she set about her daily tasks. She keeps to the near edges of the cenote, gathering florals for what would be yet another dinner in the evening. Each day was a party. She was grateful to be kept busy, though she found her focus ebbing.

A desert breeze blows sharp against her cheeks and she lifts her head to see a figure come along with it. The fellahin rises from her crop and brushes the sand from a dark foreleg.

“Welcome,” she greets the traveller, “you have reached the palace of Muat-Riya, reign of Pharaoh Muat-riya Isetnofret Toula of the Red Serpent.” A nose is gracefully inclined. “I am Eset, Pharaoh’s fellahin. How may I help you?”