Two Eyes Cenote heliocereus

ummmmmmmm vague about timings bc I'm bad at keeping up w the dramas. if u have time ebony <3

A man imprisoned. A sister sent to Akashingo. Everything was happening so fast, Kheti felt himself slip further and further inside the cracks of Muat Riya. In quiet he would visit the prison, drawing close enough to the cells to hear the subtle croonings of the man within. Safiya did not deserve the venom of Tiye, nor the praise of Khusobek; perhaps it was for the best she was gone so the beast below could never sink it's teeth into her the same way Machiavelli had.

Kheti was profoundly aware that his role was far from small. I would have been happy for you two, you know. The phrase had wormed it's way to a rotten part of the fellahin's heart, eating away at his flesh and blood. It was a heavy responsibility to shoulder, that he was the reason for her uncouth choice of company. Guilt had blossomed where words had hurt - while Tiye was the explosion, Kheti was the catalyst. And he needed to be removed.

"@Khusobek," he found his father nearby. "I want to march."

<3!!!

"good." he had come from tiye's punishment in search of his sons; now he stared down into that resolute scarlet face. "our first task will be to search territories outside the cenote for any sign that our prisoner works with others, or alone."

it was high time the children all chose. he would have made them all mazoi, save tiye, but he had wanted them to have their choice. now it was done; another guardian for the expanse of the pharaoh's kingdom. the icewater eyes glinted with approval despite his soberness.

now khusobek paused; he put to kheti the question he had asked tiye: "do you understand how the man in the cell is dangerous?"

Was he ready for this?

A bird beat it's wings inside the cage of Kheti's ribcage. Their march would take them beyond the walls of the summer palace and into the borderlands where the beast had come from. "Where do we start? What do we know about him?" It sparked a new fear in the boy; for there had never been so much at stake before. And yet to be looked on with such approval made it all seem worth it. 

And then came a question. He knew not what his father expected him to say, and so came to reply with words from the heart. "He is like Machiavelli - a poison to this land." A poison without a cure.

"no."

he did not like to dash kheti's earnestness, but in this one thing he was wrong. and khusobek who had taught such must lay it down now again. "machiavelli bore his imprisonment, his punishment, and our hebsut did not send him away. she thinks of him, kheti, as you must. and as i must."

for a moment, silence as he considered. "i must make a report to our hebsut. and i must speak with kiyya." but he stooped now, looked at the boy. "this man, soto? he is worse. he is worse than poison. you did not see him as i have, my son, and it was i who saw them both. you are right to guard your trust until it is earned, but eset would never suffer a man such as that to walk about unchained beneath our roof."

No. 

It was a gut punch, the rest of Khusobek's words the wind that sucked the breath out of him. Yet he held his tongue, cooling his anger in a way he had not done following his sister's ceremony. 

Was there a chance he was wrong? Machiavelli's teeth had been unmistakable that night - blood had been drawn! "You are right, I do not trust him. Not at all," came his reply, though his eyes met his father's with an honest understanding. "Somehow he has managed to worm his way into Safiya's heart." She had been sent away, but Kheti was sure the sentiment would remain.

But the intensity of Khusobek's gaze now made it clear that the man - Soto - was the true enemy. Worse than poison. What kind of horrors hid behind his song? Nodding stiffly, his wide eyes now looked beyond the cenote. "What has this man - what has Soto done to be so bad?"

"safiya's heart is large." 

and it would be her undoing if she did not learn to temper it. he thought of her now, traveling; his heart hurt. "he brings gifts for her. he lurks along the walls. but more than that, my son, he —" how did he explain to the pure-hearted boy the sort of malevolence which had justified his violence?

and did he wish them also to see this portion of himself?

"he is a rat, kheti. the lowest of the very low. there is no reason for him to bring gifts to a girl. to sing. to wait, to speak with her again and again." and there it was, and he was silent for a long moment, pain creasing his face as he shut his eyes.

He listened and he listened to Khusobek's spiel and with every new piece of information, the boy became a little more conflicted.

Rats were no good; not even his gourmand of a brother would dare to eat them. Kheti would see them sometimes, lurking in the shadows of the store rooms waiting to steal and to feast. 

But rats were creatures too, just like them. What Soto had done did not sound like poison.

In an effort to comfort himself more than anything, Kheti reached to clasp his father's paw in his own. "But gifts and songs are nice things, right papa?" He thought back to the objects left by Machi, struggling to discern the difference between the two scenarios.

"it depends on who gives them, my son." he tried to think, to search his mind; "machiavelli is our servant. he serves the hebsut, as we do. but he serves also us. his place is understood. if he gives a song or a gift, it may be for his own aims. but i have never seen him do violence to another."

he put out his arm, muddied from pacing; he had ignored the rents of teeth but now he showed his wrist to kheti. "he is strong. interrogations should be held with two mazoi."

a lesson under which tutelage he had labored; khusobek drew a breath to ground himself. "never lose your sense of gifts and of songs, kheti. only guard it."