Lion Head Mesa Lotus

The entrance to the sanctum beckons, sprawling, gilded, wrapped in frescos and year’s old claw-carved reliefs. It was not so unlike the chambers of Pharaoh, but never before had the girl seen a room so tall, so vast. Tipping her nose skyward, she could see no end, and vaulted eagerly out over the red stone, tiny yowls seeping through the opened heart of the concourse.

Sata was there beside her, singing the same gibberish, for all her sister knew. Neith would also find something lacking– not in this moment, but in her sister.

She was weeks away from forming full words, and many months still from understanding the true nature of her shadowed sibling.

For now, Neith was a child, romping, barking, greeting the many decorated servants as they stooped to admire her lilac eyes and pretty voice.