Two Eyes Cenote [sc] reverse, reverse!

in reference to Satsu’s curse!!!

 

the day had come that she had been made Pharaoh, and it had been brilliant. she had felt sure and certain then, but as she awoke this morning, Toula again was only a girl becoming a woman,
and she felt sick now! sick as she had never felt! Toula’s stomach seized and she rushed to the most private of spots in her chambers, only just making it to expel the contents of her stomach. 
she was not Makono. she was not her father. how could she amount to their greatness? she had been raised to be Queen—to marry for the gain of their kingdom, and now, she was Pharaoh! she had indeed married for the gain of their kingdom, but the elevation of status—asked of her by the Gods—had been a surprise, even to her. 
another wave of sickness. she could not doubt herself as she could never doubt the Gods—but she worried all the same, and did not know why she worried herself so sick. only that it felt impossible to stop. her flanks quivered, and she had only a moments peace to drink from the runningwaters within her quarters. she thanked the Gods that her fiancé was not here then to see her like this—and she blinked away tears, as she simultaneously wanted him there. he who seemed to understand her so well. 
she could not understand all that transpired within her. could not understand this sickness. she swayed in her seat and sighed, pressing her head against the coolstone of the Cenote.

she would not dare.
she would not dare!
down the halls of muat-riya did the shade of ramesses thunder, passing through all in his way. his beloved queen could not and would not. if she meant to divide this by blood, then it was hers which had failed, for ramesses had stood beside makono when she moved Ma'at for herself.
to toula's chambers he went now, where he discovered his divine daughter constricted with sickness. he could smell it upon her, and was rife with anger once more; the honeyed voice reached as ramesses made himself material before her; "sacrifice to her and i will intercede with Osiris on your behalf."
were there not darker ways? chiseling her name from the memory of akashingo, tearing down her tomb; she would dissolve in the Land of Reeds.
but for her, for satsu, he would not entertain such cruelty. she grieved, but she could not change the heart of the gods.

a golden presence. warmth encompassed her—and for a moment she could breathe again without fear of wretching. 
father! Toula glowed beneath him, but soon turned green again. past the next wave of sickness, she heard his words. Toula nodded—it was not rare for her to leave tributes, when the words fully were understood. her, she echoes, eyes turning upward to him, bile still on her tongue. who?

"queen satsu. she loathes your ascension for you are not her own."
ramesses wavered, face mournful; he returned to himself and seemed now to sit alongside toula and looked with great severity upon her. "we quarrel for you, my princess child, my royal delight."

she could have wept to hear the words. they themselves felt a curse to her. oh, and could have?! here they came, the water welling in her gaze. but her blood is my own, she whispered hoarsely—and even though she knew Satsu was not her mother, she has always seen Makono and Ashikaga as fullblooded sisters—and Siptah, her brother!
it would not be the first sacrifice to her—it would not be the last, either. she wished to counsel me, she revealed then, she forewarned me of a curse upon the progeny of myself and— her heart broke, and Toula was sick again. lies, she understood now—lies to end her own royal bloodline. 
perhaps there should have been anger, but Toula found only great sadness. the nausea did not ease. what sacrifice shall I leave? she asked, heartbreak in her voice. her trust had been misplaced.

"but it is not, hawk-in-the-nest. you were born of treva. you can only bear one lineage and it is mine. in the Land of Reeds, she is bereft; in paradise, she grieves, and such ire twists the ka."
regret was woven into him, into all of him, blanching ramesses from ivory light into something greyed and weathered and thinned —;
"bring the flesh of three vipers and seven thornfruits to her tomb. give them in ceremony. mingle your blood with the red dust upon that place. when she sees it, she may know you as you know her."
his tone grew teasing, as if he were telling a child to fix her hair; "and you must wear more amulets, toula, far more. you are pharaoh. each day you must wear items of power and protection, each day you must paint your eyes to turn away the dogshead death."

the truth, and she knew it. her mother, who she loved fiercely and yearned for then, too. 
she would do as bid—she would do it herself. she wondered if Satsu would ever claim her, in her own way, truly and in earnest—
but she was her fathers daughter, more than anything else this day, this hour. she drew to her then the amulet he had made her, so very long ago. I keep it with me always, she breathes. nothing was as important to her as this. nausea gripped her again, but she manages to speak again after swallowing thickly, what else? if only to hear him speak more—if only to hold onto this time with him, to have his guidance she so fervently wished for. 
sickness gripped once more, but she rose and moved to cleanse herself—this task, she must begin now, and she would do it with him. she would ask for more amulets and things of protection to be made.

his lips trembled; he almost wept to see it, and surrounded her with a glowingly soft light; and she was ill. so very ill.
what satsu had rent felt unforgivable.
"make amulets for your own children, toula. make them before they even arrive. before they are even conceived. fill them with all the power of the gods."
with their blessing, she would live to see them grow as he had not for any of his own.

this task was meant for her to do, for her to complete. but she has never killed a viper! Toula was unsteady in her step, but would summon none to aid her—and never, truly, in her devotions. the things she brought were always from her own mouth, her own heart! this, too. 
she listened with a smile to hear his voice. weak, she felt weak—but his voice kept her present. alright, I shall, she promises to him, and you shall see them. I will take them to your pyramid, and again her body spasms— but nothing else is in her, only the water she had drank. 
gone, now. what else? she asks—in this pain, his voice was a comfort. vipers—in this desert, the skin they shed would surely be abundant.

"more? my daughter, trust in yourself. your altars are beautiful. see that you begin building your tomb now, for in good health you may rule till your very death, and each year tribute shall be gathered to accompany you in the Land of Reeds. Ma'at has changed for you, but observe the ancient ways as well. seek the counsel of Amun. set obelisks outside akashingo and muat-riya, pillars to proclaim yourself. betrothe son and daughter to keep the blood. you are pharaoh."
he saw her pain, a sickly yellow pulsing; ramesses did not ask, but passed through toula now, seeking to eradicate it from her very gut with all the power bestowed by his holy death.

her heart swelled to hear him, to hear also his belief. to advise her to trust in herself meant that he, too, trusted in her! you and Makono—you have both left me too soon, comes her quivering voice. but he was here, now, and she smiled up toward him. I wish for all of your wisdom. whatever it is that you think to offer, her eyes were bright. she wanted to be great, as she saw him—then, she had forgotten his own wrongdoings. then, she was again a little girl walking alongside her father. all that he said, it would be done—some of it planned already, in truth, and now she did begin to trust in herself as he did! 
following his footsteps into the river. singing with him to Ra,
and she felt suddenly filled with the light of Him! well enough, then, to begin her search as the pain left her—the evil of it burnt to nothing else within. light seemed to surround her, and she gasped at the feeling!

"then i offer this: do not do as i did. when you are pharaoh, all things are yours. all persons are yours. all lands are yours. it will fill vein and head as never before, not even as queen will you understand what the gods want of you, not until you sit upon the Horus Throne."
"love is poor mortar for a kingdom. love is beautiful, and you must have it, but it cannot be a substitute for all things."
"to be pharaoh is to be alone, toula, even when you are surrounded by those who worship you. remember you now are a goddess, and speak also for them. you are set apart from all else through this."
the vision of ramesses was paling; he had given up a good part of his strength to sunder the effect of satsu, but he pressed forward now to kiss the royal brow.