Lion Head Mesa devil like me

the once shabti stormed away. makono stewed in the silence that followed. let the woman range the mesa with her cries of madness or her words of conspiracy.

she called for @Bayek — trusting the medjay to have stayed loyal to her. for she had learned from him! she had become full beneath him!

when he arrived — it is good to see you. and she meant it. rising to face him fully. i know things are...moving. and here she looked to him openly, wondering if he might still speak to her as freely as he once did.

would any?

Bayek answered her call because she would not have summoned him if she did not need him.

Makono looked so young. His heart ached for her. His heart ached for his lost son. These children were forced into such madness. The girl could have learned so much more before taking the throne. She could have been shaped into a leader of the people. Now, she would be faced with anger and blame. The Medjay did not want this for her. He felt weary in his soul.

Pharaoh, he offered a deep bow, respect in the stiff muscles of his frame.

Akashingo is abuzz with the news. How are you faring?

it still jarred her to hear herself be addressed as such. pharaoh, fresh from the cusp of crown prince. somehow she felt like a newborn fawn when faced with the grace of the medjay.

i fair well. hardly. a lost father, an outed shabti. her cheek stung still even if the wound was superficial at best.

i believe we have a few things to discuss, but i would like to...give you space to speak. if you have anything.

Makono had placed the crown upon her head.

Bayek had not forgotten the way they had talked on their patrols. The ways that they had shared with each other. His reservedness was a part of him, but he had always been honest with the young wolf. He would continue to be honest to her, if she would have him in her palace.

I have nothing, Makono. His voice was rough upon the air. I know not why the Pharaoh Ramesses was killed. I only know that you are Pharaoh now and there will be a great deal of anger among your people.

Bayek’s jeweled gaze was soft upon her. He did not envy this role she had been thrust into.

her features softened for but a moment beneath the tiredness that clung softly to her.

have you seen the anger, medjay? her tongue pushed against her teeth for a moment. there is one who must be seen out of the lands already.

perhaps he had heard the raising of voices or perhaps he had been busy among others.

You do not see anger, Pharaoh Makono. It is something you feel.

Bayek regarded her carefully. Anger and fear were strong on the air. They could be felt in the halls of the palace, in the rooms, in the throne. The Medjay was not foolish enough to believe that she did not feel these things, too.

Who is it that you wish to have removed? What have they done?

Makono did not need to justify herself to him. He asked only to know if she would.

scorned, it felt. perhaps it was the stress already wearing her thin that his words felt sharp. pointed. prodding for a sensitive spot in an already wounded pharaoh.

she must become steel.

the once shabti. treva. she shows her anger. a soft sneer upon her features that softened just as quick. i have given her until the next dawn to gather her things, say goodbyes and be gone from here.

she should have ordered the woman dead.

The Medjay nodded his head, understanding.

Treva was the first to express her emotions, to give them physical form. She must have rattled Makono with her force or her words. The young girl did not look pleased. Bayek hoped that she would not let her pride speak for her. The woman who had lashed out had lost a husband. She had lost a home, too. It was only in their nature to respond with loud voices and physical lashings, if they could not express it in a healthier way.

I will be sure she is gone from these lands, Makono. Please, do not let her words or her touch imprint on you. She is distressed. It is not an excuse, only a reason. Bayek did not wish to apologize on behalf of the woman. She should never have touched the girl.

An angrier Pharaoh would have had her killed, he said quietly, amethyst eyes unable to touch her face.

as if makono was not mourning have to lay down her own father. for having to be the one to show him his madness in the mirror that was herself. as if she had not been one mistake away from losing her own entire life.

but, yes, focus upon the poor woman given everything without working for it.

it was a bitter way to think. she knew this. of course. a soft contemplative hum. then he spoke of angrier pharaohs. makono did not wish to say she was too tired to see another dead — nor that she had considered letting the woman meet the ground as well.

i do not wish to be an angrier pharaoh, bayek. here his name was spoken, moving aside titles to reach his heart.

I know. And he did.

Bayek could not silence his worries. He could not quiet the voice of his dead son, bright and joyous in his mind’s memory. Makono had deserved better than this. She deserved to live the life of a child. She should not have to face such daunting tasks with her head held high, her emotions steeled. The Medjay cursed internally at these fates.

Have you anything else you wish to speak on?

For Bayek would listen and he would offer what he could – his mind, his body, his very spirit.

you will always be medjay, this i know. her shoulders softened some. even if her gaze looked upon him like a ruler. but without a jodai present to promote you, let me call you yaret too.

and yet she wondered if he would reject her offer for a promotion. if he might be content as only a mazoi and medjay.

From Mazoi to Yaret, Bayek was humbled.

The man’s head bowed to her. She sounded tired. He wished to take that. He would carry her exhaustion, if the gods would allow him to.

Makono, I am here to serve you however you may need me to. Mazoi, Yaret, it does not matter. You may call me the sand beneath your paws, if that is what you wish.

Bayek was a man of duty and he had grown fond of the girl. Their time spent together had carried remnants of his time with his son. It hurt him to know that he would never see the shining face of his boy again. He could do nothing with that pain. What he could do was help Makono succeed in her role, however she needed him.

he humored her! lips curled softly.

go, yaret. rest. i might call upon you too much in the coming days. she could not say, nor could she know. perhaps brothers would rally. a scorned wife might seek to harm things on the way out.

but those loyal needed rest where they could get it.

Call whenever you please, he said in his grave voice. And it was offered genuinely.

Bayek bowed his head to her – their new Pharaoh – and slipped away from the room. His mind buzzed with hatred for the circumstances that had been thrust on the young Makono. Was it destiny that their rulers should fade from the light of the gods and slip into the madness? The Medjay had seen too many do this. He had known too many vile rulers. There were several that he still hunted; the killers of his sweet boy.

The Yaret did not rest. He put himself to work and hurried through the halls so that he might check on the lady Qiao.