Lion Head Mesa heaven's not enough

@Zaahira

the blue flower circlet is placed in front of sun. freshly dipped in one of akashingo's many pools, little glittering pearls slither down and stain the altar with its droplets. 

it will die soon, time has already begun to steal its life no matter how much water it is fed. but that is why racharra must keep praying. so that her prayer will not die.

the nebet.
it felt as though it was only yesterday when akashingo took the girl in, large-eyed and wild; she'd been raised by the royals as if she was one of their own, and now she effectively was.
she looks the part, the darling thing; tall and mighty with her father's gait, but regal and sand-touched. zaahira is quiet as she approaches her as though her presence may cause alarm.
nebet racharra, she addresses her formally, breath hitching in her throat uncomfortably. her gaze is soft and pliable as she slinks up to meet her flank. when the jodai looks at her, it's as if she knows her intrinsically. it hurts. you too find comfort in the gods?

the jodai.

zaahira, one from greatwater who followed after its destruction. and much like the nebet, she's found her place in the halls of the red palace. she takes to her role far better than the nebet does though.

the jodai carries a powerful presence. it's familiar, and that gets racharra's heart racing. her fear is irrational, but the girl swore that out of the corner of her eye, she looked so much like her.

racharra sets aside her prayer for now, and addresses the jodai. of course. you of all must most understand why. she says with the slightest laugh.

a pang of recognition roils zaahira's blood. i do, she sighs, settling intently as her tail folds over her feet. They saved us, i think. led us here for our true calling.
she sees much of khaba in the young girl, and yet so much of the desert; it was as if the sands had sculpted her and made her into a power much greater than the lake people could have ever conjured. do you ever miss it? the lake, the jodai asks quietly, coolness melting away into something warmer. for me, it is strange to think i had ever even lived there.

perhaps if the jodai had asked a different racharra — the one that left for moontide but never returned — then the answer could've been different too.
no, i had too few memories of it to miss it. she says curtly after a sigh slips and her shoulders slump for just a moment. it's not my home.
something strange is in zaahira's eyes whenever she looks at the nebet. it swirls around like a dark cloud of dust or a sandstorm. a mixture of beauty and disturbance. but the girl just can't quite place a finger on it, or why.
..but i think the gods really did come to save us. the sun never burned brighter than when akashingo invaded the lake — that's the only thing i remember clearly. it was as if Ra was amongst them, spiritually and physically.

there was something solemn about the way racharra spoke of the lake. she had been all but abandoned to the palace; did her sorry excuses for parents even know where she was now? did they care?
zaahira supposed not.
it was a great day, the tall ears bend back to rest against her skull. i am only sorry you had to bear witness to it. it cannot be good for so young a child to have seen their father apprehended, and for a mother you did not even know to seize you.
a breath, a sigh. sometimes i fear they will come back for you. one or both of them.

it's fine, i barely remember much of it. the invasion caused the least damage to her anyways.

she knew that her mother returning is a dream dead and buried by her own hand, but her father coming back? a nightmare. and one that could still come true. she bristles, and her answer comes cold.
that won't be a problem. it shouldn't. if neither of them haven't done it by now, then they never will.

and, gods forbid, if they ever do, you know that we will protect you from them, she leans back, head tipped toward the sandstone ceiling in order to avoid the harshness of the sun which cascaded over them both. if that is what you would wish, at least.
i know i would give anything to tear into them.
do you ever wish things had been different? do not afraid to be honest with me. i of all people will certainly not judge you, a wistful laugh parts from her lips, then, dissolving as soon as it reaches the desert air. sometimes i wonder what things would have been like if-- you know. none of that had never happened.

mmn. whatever threat could they pose to akashingo, racharra preferred not to know.

of course i do. racharra sighs, though never hesitates. of course i'd wish things had been different. in a better world, everyone could've been in akashingo, or allied. it could've been her siblings and her sitting together in this hall, closer in distance and in heart as they share prayer. instead, the gods can only look down at her and zaahira.